The Magic Diet

[For those of you who aren't on Facebook (all two of you), or who somehow missed the new Sweet Tea, here's my article for the January issue.]  

The Magic Diet

Admit it.  We all want it.  The Magic Diet that will melt away the pounds like hot butter, and buff the muscles to a six pack.  What’s that?  Butter?  Six pack?  See how quickly I get sidetracked when thinking about The Magic Diet?  Just that one sentence alone was enough to make me gain 3 pounds. Believe me.  If there were a Magic Diet out there I’d have found it by now.

Growing up, I didn’t have to worry about weight.  My mama was a tiny little thing, and I was just barely over 100 lb soaking wet all through my teenage years.  Everyone used to tell me “You’ll never have to worry about your weight.”  (Pssst.  Don’t ever tell that to anyone.  Some people are silly enough to believe it.)

I didn’t experience the “freshman 15”.  Nope, that was kid stuff.  Instead, I experienced the “bridal bloatfest”.  When I married at 21, I was horrified that it took a size 9 wedding gown to hold my bloated body.  What had happened to my size 5 and 7 jeans?  I guess being so blissfully in love was a calorie magnet, and I had ballooned up to 114 lbs.  If gaining weight was the sign of bliss, by the time I gave birth 5 ½ years later, you’d have thought I was the owner of Disneyland (The Happiest Place On Earth).

    

Some people take up a new craft or hobby.  Some people take dance lessons or learn a new language.  Some people search for the answers to the mysteries of the universe.  I began The Quest for The Magic Diet.  The one that would allow me to swallow a pill, or meditate, or listen to subliminal messages to give me the desire and the willpower to fit back into those jeans.  Forget the 5s and 7s, I would have been ecstatic to see ANY size in the single digits!

 

My library expanded.  I purchased every diet book on the market.  I read them all.  Some of them I tried, some of them I decided were either too dangerous, or the food choices left me gagging.  There was the grapefruit and boiled egg diet.  The Lemonade Diet. The Cabbage Soup Diet. The Richard Simmons Method.  Medibolic.  Scarsdale.  The Banana Diet.  The Ice Cream diet.  The Zone.  The Mayo Clinic.  The Eat Like A Tree diet. The Full Plate Diet.  The Weigh Down Diet.  And that’s only a few of them. Needless to say, I’ll never have to buy another door stop again.

 

Back in the olden days of VHS cassettes, I bought enough exercise videos to rival the Great Wall of China.  And like The Great Wall, they just sat there, not doing a darn thing to take the weight off. Today I have no less than 10 “workout” DVDs.  I can Walk Away The Pounds, Dance Away The Pounds, and Hypnotize Away The Pounds.  They just sit there too.  Collecting dust.  Hmph.  And they were guaranteed to work!  Wonder if I can get my money back?

My repertoire of exercise equipment isn’t too shabby either.  I have stretchy things, and springy things, and special tone-up sneakers.  I have a pedometer, an MP3 player and some kick-butt ear buds.  I have my very own personal treadmill. Inside my house. Plugged in. And up until a few months ago I had a membership at the Wellness Center. Then I figured for that monthly payment, I could buy myself a lot of groceries and fast food.  You know that didn’t end well.

And now, a bride again at age 53, the “bliss” seems to come at me even faster.  I’m at the happiest place I’ve ever been in my life. Healthy, awesome family, beautiful grandchildren, and the most wonderful husband. Bliss, I tell you!!  I guess that explains it then: I bump into things I didn’t used to bump into. Sometimes when I walk through the room, things just seem to topple over all by themselves.  And then I realize it was my butt that toppled it over. 

Something’s gotta give.  And it ain’t gonna be my waistband.

So here we find ourselves in a brand new year, with a clean plate … err… clean slate, and once again embrace the resolve to start all over.  To get it right this time.  And we will do it.  Because after all my extensive research, I have learned that there really IS a Magic Diet.  Four Little Words.  Eat Less, Move More. Find your magic and make it work.  You’re not gettin’ any younger, and unless you already found your magic, you’re probably not gettin’ any skinnier either.  Eat Less, Move More.  Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to make room in the closet for all those clothes that are hanging on the bars of my treadmill.  I’m ready to get my Magic on. I’ve got some movin’ to do!