It is 07:00.00 hours as five naïve dieters begin their mêlée with the enemy – fat. Secluded in the mountains outside of San Diego with the addition of a “Fad Diet Queen” neighbor, each has agreed to go on a Miracle Diet, which claims to take off ten pounds in three days.
Perfect timing, as it is a three-day weekend. Here are the trials and tribulations of the Battalion Six. Meet The Troops I am a mother of three, with the tummy to prove it. I am moderately active, exercising three to four times weekly but have never attempted to diet.
Kate, my sister and active mother of two, considers herself a little less than toned and would like to drop a few pounds but has little willpower. John, Kate’s husband, travels frequently. Although exercising regularly, he is finding it difficult to lose those last 10 pounds and has begun looking down the back alleys of fad diets for a quick fix.
Perry is my teenage daughter. She would like to lose some weight – but considers surfing the net physical activity and is hoping for an easy out. Meg is Perry’s friend. She is active, but not at the weight she would like to be. She is willing to try a short-term diet (if it doesn’t interfere with her weekend festivities).
The Neighbor is a mother of two, finding it hard to lose the weight she gained with her second child. She exercises regularly, but the pounds are not dropping fast enough. Saturday, 07:30.00 :: Dieters: 6 We are drifting towards the kitchen. John, Kate, and I sit down to a breakfast of dry toast, two teaspoons of peanut butter, one-half grapefruit, and all the coffee or tea our stomachs desire. We are biding our time, drinking plenty of water, writing a grocery list, and trying not to think about what we are being deprived of. We go to the local coffee house to buy some java. Between 8 a.m. and 10 a.m., approximately 24 ounces of extreme caffeine has been ingested into my body. I cannot sit still, am finding it impossible to stay focused, and must admit, want to throw in the towel already! Upon our return, Kate makes breakfast for the little ones. She is gazing lovingly at each strawberry as she slices the fruit, pining for just one pancake as she serves the stacks, and salivating at the orange juice she is pouring. For a moment, I think she is going to break. John seems to be doing just fine, although I do notice him squeezing every last drop of grapefruit juice from his half and eyeing toast crust about to be thrown to the dogs. He decides to make a family website to keep busy. Perry and Meg join the regime. Perry has already faltered by eating some cereal before beginning the diet. It probably messes with the “miracle” chemical interaction, but she doesn’t seem bothered. Meg has high hopes, but within an hour, she waves the white flag and begins enjoying her weekend.
Looking back on everything, I wish I had seen the wisdom of her ways! Saturday, 12:30.00 :: Dieters: 4 We have lost two soldiers from the front line. Meg in the first hour and sometime before noon Perry has called it quits. As I look out into the backyard, I see her laughing, smiling, and eating – a beautifully layered sandwich fit for a general. As for the forces still remaining, our rations consist of plain tuna, dry toast, and again all the caffeine buzz we care for. John is still doing well. He isn’t complaining. I think his silence is for the morale of the unit. Kate and I are not so team-oriented. We have already started our descent into the philosophical depths of dieting…would Plato have tortured his body in this way, the inhumanity of it all, what is perfection, and related topics.
No one really wants to hear this right now. Kate has started asking me if we should just stop and try again in a few days. Although I want to, I resist. After all, I need to continue this experiment for the sake of…what I am not sure. Lack of rations hinders clear thinking! Kate and I take the three small ones to a birthday party. I am pumped so full of caffeine, I may just explode. There is a table full of delectable novelties, each one calling my name. The grapes are whispering sweet nothings in my ear, as I feed them to my daughter. Kate is making the rounds, but stops by to say that she has seen the fruited fork awfully close to my mouth. I deny the accusation, but know deep down inside, I want that fruit. Actually, I want to be covered in fruit, with whipped cream, in a mosaic tile design as I – curses, my daydream has been interrupted! The Neighbor introduces herself…we discuss the diet. She seems calmer than I, but she is also more serious about wanting to lose weight. As a clown entertains the children, I realize that I must make my escape now – before the cake – the cake with whipped cream frosting… My caffeine high has said its goodbyes and I have freed myself from the “birthday party from dieter’s hell” only to realize I am working on an incredibly painful headache and have the energy of a sloth. As it turns out, this weekend is going downhill faster than a sloth on a toboggan.
Who thought of dieting this weekend, anyway? Oh, me. With no one to blame, I have come to this conclusion: Dieting sucks! Saturday, 15:00.00 :: Dieters: 4 – barely Kate is back from the festivities. We both assumed that if we could make it through the party, we were home free. You know what they say about assuming! Earlier, while buying presents for the party, we bought a carton of Little Debbie® Swiss Cakes out of sheer rebellion, not realizing this box would be our demise or savior – depending on your point of view. We debate breaking open the box one last time. I am not clear on the details of the next fifteen minutes, but all I do know is that by 15:15.00, Kate and I have finished the entire box of Swiss Cakes and two large glasses of milk. Yes, we are broken, but quite giddy and rather satisfied with our revolt. Saturday, 15:30.00 :: Dieters: 2 John is impressively steadfast. That is, of course, until we get to him. Our mission – make him eat! It takes a good half-hour before he cracks. But once he does, Kate is on the scene creating a makeshift version of strawberry shortcake (pound cake, strawberry ice cream, and whipped cream). John takes one bite and knows he has made the right decision. He is even appreciative of our covert operation to break him. With each bite, I see a coolness come over him.
We have a healthy, satisfying dinner, and enjoy the evening. No remorse. Sunday :: Dieters: 1 Well, we’re now down to one unwavering dieter: The Neighbor. How ironic; the only person left standing, did it alone. So much for the group support method! We do not hear from The Neighbor, but she is in our thoughts. Monday :: Dieters: 1 The Neighbor has done it. Not only has she survived the weekend, but she has seemingly defeated the enemy by losing five pounds. We have not lost any weight, but we have not gained any either. Call us the Switzerland of weight loss. Tuesday & Beyond – Back to Reality My thoughts: fad dieting is simply the wrong way to lose weight. Yes, The Neighbor lost five pounds, but it’s only Wednesday and she has already regained two and a half of them. If you really want to do battle with the bulge, change your lifestyle, exercise a little more, and analyze your current eating habits. In the real world, the benefits of healthy living far outweigh the temporary weight loss you will obtain from any Miracle Diet.
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