I’m currently several hours into the fourth day of my first ever carb-less week and I figured that if I have to suffer this pain, then so should you. It’s hell. Pure, unadulterated, carb-less hell. But can I give up? No, can I shit.
Firstly, my boyfriend knows I’m attempting it and we are competitive to within an inch of our lives. Giving up four days in would provoke a barrage of ridicule and smugness (despite the fact that I’m usually pretty healthy and he exists solely on pizza, chips and chilli sauce wraps, supplemented with whichever multipack chocolate bars are a quid in Asda this week). Don’t give me all the ‘aww but he should support you!’ bollocks either – 10 years of romancing does not a fairytale make and I would vomit into my carb-less supper if my beloved was to rub my back and utter the words ‘stick at it baby, I believe in you’. I know, I’m a die hard romantic right?
The second reason I must stay in this carb-less hell, is that I have a hen do on Saturday. With a new mum. Who has shed about 6 stone to become a total goddess AND a mum AND the bride-to-be. And it’s not just down to the wonder of breastfeeding either – she’s actually refrained from eating anything slightly fun for ages. It’s like a baby popped out and a salad popped in. I on the other hand have no new baby excuses to play on and have spent the last god knows how many months complaining that there aren’t enough Smarties in my cookie or cheeses on my cheeseboard.
Seems I haven’t blogged in weeks (months?), I decided to share with you the ten stages of a carb-less day. Sorry. Send cakes. And potatoes. All the potatoes.
1 – Wake up to the sound of your rumbling stomach begging you to annihilate a bowl of Cookie Crisp. And not one of those shitty ‘recommended 30g’ portions either. A proper bowl with just enough milk that you can pass it for cereal and not just a bowl of biscuits, and where you have to sit down really steady so they don’t overflow all over the settee.
2 – Notice that when you lay really flat, like press-yourself-into-the-mattress-and-really breath-in flat, you might actually see the shadow of a hipbone. Decide it is all worthwhile and that you will continue the fight with gusto.
3 – Decide that after three full days of saintly low carb behaviour your skinny trousers will surely fit. After all they weren’t that tight before and it has been three full days.
4 – Squeeze trousers over calves (maybe carbs go straight to my calves), then over knees (who even has fat knees?), then over thighs (nope, carbs definitely go to my thighs). Button at the waist and experience a fleeting sense of excitement as they fit. Try and bend down to put on shoes, go back upstairs and change trousers so as to avoid a certain wardrobe malfunction involving showing Wayne in Customer Service more arse than he’s ever seen before (including his own)
5 – Go to Asda, spend £2 on a salad of one solitary slice of ham and a single egg (cut in half so it looks like more – I know your game Asda) and another quid on 4 grapes and half an apple thrown in a pot. Low carb goddess I may be, organised enough to make my own salads I am not.
6 – Eat three Babybel Lights for breakfast. Crammed with saturated fat but NO carbs. And if it’s good enough for Emily Blunt in The Devil Wears Prada, it’s good enough for me. Drink nothing but green tea and sugar free Vimto. Enjoy the extra time away from your desk that comes with excessive toilet visits
7 – Point out to everyone in the office that you’ve got a salad for dinner because you’re ‘Off Carbs’. Realise you’re that dickhead who goes on about diets and exercise all the time when nobody gives a shit. Look at the girl on marketing’s family-sized Galaxy like it contains the secret to unlocking Beckham’s boxers
8 – Rejoice when you spot a recipe for Kale chips on Pinterest. Because that is basically crisps. And OMG crisps.
9 – Boil two bags of Bird’s Eye frozen vegetables for your dinner instead of one because you’re a fearless bastard who doesn’t take shit from anyone.
10 – Go to bed at 9pm, spend an hour looking at Paleo recipes on Pinterest (WTF is Paleo anyway?). Fall asleep feeling pissed off because you can hear your boyfriend eating a Toffee Crisp downstairs and you forgot to go to Asda at dinner for some Kale for your crisps.
So there you have it. Eat your carbs kids. It’s not worth the earache you inflict on everyone around you when you don’t.
Oh, and kale crisps are a load of bollocks. It’s basically just burnt cabbage. And not even the nice sort that cheap Chinese restaurants sometimes try and pass off as crispy seaweed either. Sorry…I’m just hungry.