So on January 2nd, I started the Whole 30 program.
See, on December 30th, my husband Josh said from across the room “What about Whole 30?” and I said “I dunno. A friend did it and lost, like, 20 lbs in a month.” and he was like “Hey, I can buy all the books off Amazon and get them delivered today.” and I was like “Eh, okay.”
December 31st, Josh asked me if I was okay. “Why?” I said. “Because you look like you’re in pain or something.”
No, I was just reading the rules for the Whole 30 plan. And maybe I did find it painful. No dairy. No grains. No legumes. No sugar. No cheating. No slip ups. No weighing. No measuring. No peanut butter. No peas. No beans. No rice. No soy. No alcohol. No vegan sweet potato chips even if they conformed to all the food rules. But oddly enough – yes to regular potatoes.
By the end of the book, I became resigned to doing this plan. Because it was December 31st and I had to do *something*. It was in front of me. What the hell? So I printed out a handy shopping list from their site, went to Whole Foods, read every friggen label. Stared at all the coconut/almond milk coffee creamers. Became one of those obnoxious people stressing out over not being able to find ghee. Handed over all my money to the cashier.
Day one started with a lot of food prep. I had a plan. I’d make spaghetti squash. We all know how that turned out. I spent an hour and a half hungry while making dinner. Because “no snacks” is one of the rules.
Day two found me cooking lots of meat. The hope was that if I could cook some stuff ahead, life would be easier.
Day four saw me wanting to stab people with one of my dull kitchen knives. Except all my knives were dirty. Everything in my kitchen was dirty. I had used everything trying to make meals out of the recipe section of the Whole 30 book.
Day 7 – at Whole Foods again
Cashier – So, how are you today?
Me – Well, I’m on this diet thing, so I want to stab people.
The first week, I went no where except the grocery store to get more Whole 30 compliant food. It was easier to hermit than to figure out how to either eat or avoid eating while out.
Day 10 – my friend calls
Friend – So, how is it going?
Me – I just want a fucking tablespoon of fucking whole milk in my fucking coffee, is that too much to fucking ask for?
Day 11 – my husband tries to make one meal easier on me and asks if I can have Mexican food.
Me – shrieking like a banshee – I DON’T KNOW IT DEPENDS ON WHAT THEY PUT IN THE FOOD
Day 12 – Josh cooks dinner but it’s not quite right for this plan, even though he tried. I contemplate having a glass of water for dinner because it’s easier than having to think about what to put in my face. Eventually I make what I call a “sad salad” – which has also been many of my lunches.
Day 14 – while at Target
Cashier – So, how’s it going?
Me – I’m on this “eating plan” that’s supposed to “change my life”. Which it will because by the end of the month I’ll probably be in jail for murdering someone.
I’m now on Day 17. I’m supposed to have “tiger blood” or some shit like that according to the book. It means I’m supposed to feel great and have lots of energy and my skin should be glowing enough that it’s seen from outer space.
Guess what I’ve got? Not any of that. What I do have is burgeoning food aversions, a cranky-ass attitude, and a fear that I’m developing an unhealthy relationship with food. I’m also prepping myself mentally for Day 31 – when you’re supposed to start to reintroduce all the foods you haven’t been eating. Not because I’m afraid one of them is going to make me feel bad. No, I’m more worried that after all this deprivation, I’m going to fall off the wagon spectacularly and undo any weight loss I’ve had from this.
Granted, the Whole 30 people will tell you – this is NOT a diet. And it’s not. It’s a way to become a control freak over how you eat. It’s got you reading bacon packages to find hidden sugar. It has you paying $7 for a bottle of vinaigrette so you can be “compliant”. You’re supposed to become more in tune with your body while breaking bad food habits. All I’ve gotten so far is a bad attitude. It’s supposed to be freeing – I’ve found it confining. I nearly cried in Whole Foods the other day over it all. I don’t feel any better. My psoriasis is still there – in fact, I’ve developed a new patch on my other eyelid, so now both eyelids have patches. Awesome.
I’d sick and tired of it all. But I’m sticking to it out of some sort of madness. Maybe because I need to lose weight. I need to do something. But after day 30, there will be no more Whole 30 in my life. This shit’s ridiculous.