My husband assures me that Day 3 and Day 7 are the hardest days for the Paleo diet. Today is Day 3 and I’m already sick of eggs and salad and grilled chicken. My ears perked up when Mr. Right mentioned that barbecue is an acceptable food. I may go smother myself in brisket tonight before our dinner party that will be filled with all sorts of splendid goodies that I’m not allowed to touch.
But I’ve been assured that if I’ll plug through that I’m going to feel AWESOME very soon. Very, very soon… (said between clenched teeth). And, I’m happy to report I’ve lost two pounds in the past two days. You may think it’s just water weight, but I’m going to celebrate and use that as incentive to go another two days. And then two more… and you get the picture.
My low point was when I was standing in the cafeteria, amidst the chaos of the noon lunch hour, googling to see if I’m allowed to eat cottage cheese. Please, Lord, let me have cottage cheese.
Not Paleo. So none for me. It’s so silly the things I’ve crave when I’m told I can’t have something. I become a strong-willed teenager when I’m denied bread. Bread smothered in melted cheese, dipped in marina sauce and washed down with a cold Diet Coke.
In the meantime, if you need me, I’ll be googling new Paleo recipes because I heard a rumor there’s a Paleo-friendly banana bread somewhere out there in the universe. And banana bread may be just what I need to make it another day.