I'm going to do something very brave here. Show you something I don't want anyone to see.
It's my gut.
Well, it was.
I'm going to show you why I'm doing The 4-Hour Body diet. See, we were at a playground for a playdate, and my friend Jenny used her amazing camera to take a picture of me playing on a climbing wall thing. I loved about 75% of the picture.
The smile, the hat, the shoes. But then I saw my gut and got all queasy.
Surely it doesn't look like that?
That's not how I picture myself.
But there it is.
I'm pretty sure that was the day that Dr. Krog brought home The 4-Hour Body by Timothy Ferriss. We started reading it, and I was desperate enough to be open to the hardest, cruelest diet I'd ever encountered.
It works like this:
Eat 3-4 meals per day. Eat only meat/eggs, green vegetables, and beans/nuts.
No dairy. No sugar. No grains. No shrimp. No chocolate. No honey.
No alcohol except dry red wine.
Once a week you can eat whatever you want on Binge Day.
Also, buy a kettlebell and swing it 50 times, 3 times a week.
Also, record your morning and evening weight.
DOES THAT NOT SOUND LIKE MY OWN, PERSONAL VERSION OF HELL?
But I started it. On the night of March 26, I weighed 142 pounds.
For perspective, I was about 132 for all of high school, 135 for married life, went up to 177 with each kid, back down to a comfortable, eat-whatever-I-want 145 for post-baby life. I'm 33, and I'm 5'6". My BMI is totally normal, but I've never been proud of my body. I despise exercise of the gym/running/aerobics kind. And I freaking love cupcakes or anything that involves cakiness and frosting.
And, thus far, I have lost 8 pounds. In a month.
I started the 4-Hour Body that night and have only cheated one time in a month, and that was to have a drink at a big, extended family dinner. And, as Tim Ferriss tells you to do, I excused myself to the restroom before and after that amaretto sour for 60 air squats and 30 presses in my fancy dress.
And not to get all reduxy on you, but whenever I see this pic from yesterday's circus blog, I can see such an amazing difference in my body that I have to smile. My arms have tone and definition. My stomach is slimmer. My legs are slimmer. There's a dip under my ribcage. And I feel great.
I'm sleeping better. My skin is better. My attitude is better. And although sometimes I crave carbs with the passion of a thousand fiery stars, I am able to reject them. And then I buy myself an almond croissant on Friday night in preparation for Saturday morning, and it is the most delicious almond croissant that has ever existed.
If you, like me, have spent your entire life with a mental image that doesn't match your actual pictures, hoping that one day you'll find a secret bullet and look like you want to look, you might want to check out The 4-Hour Body. I'm now seeing it as less of a diet than an overall life plan. I'm starting to believe that my lifelong addiction, sugar, is a poison.
I have this silly life goal to get below 130 pounds. And it looks like that might actually happen, right in time for bathing suit season.
For the record, I'm not writing this blog post in a "Please, everyone hop into the comments to tell me I look better or was just fine the way I was" sort of way, although I know Urfa will, because she is the sweetest person I've ever met. It was important to me that I show you that picture I hate so much, that triggered such self-loathing in me. If reading this book can make you feel as great about yourself-- and as healthy-- as I feel right now, it'll be worth it. This blog has seen me go vegetarian, vegan, dairy-free, sugar-free. You name it.
This is the first thing that has actually worked.
The 4-Hour Body takes guts.
And it pretty much obliterates them.