The Hollando Diet

It didn’t take me long to get down to 178, but once I got there I managed to stop for a while. In the last few days I finally seem to have broken through that plateau, and hit a new low of 176 this morning, down between six and seven pounds over the two weeks since I started. Which, all things considered, is not bad at all. My energy level is up from the exercise, and while I haven’t eaten as much of my favorite foods as I used to, I haven’t suffered intensely from the lack, either.

I even had a slice of pizza last night, which sounds like diet treachery, but compared with the four slices I would have had this time last month really isn’t all that bad. I’m not treating this as a diet, anyway. It’s no good if I can’t keep it up, and that means learning to go to a pizza place and order one slice rather than the whole pie. So while six pounds in two weeks isn’t Atkins level results, it’s nothing to sneer at and I’m in much less danger of catastrophic failure than I would otherwise be.

I’ve toned the exercise regimen down a bit, and I’m now doing half-hour interval training on the elliptical four or five days a week. Because the interval setting changes resistance up and down during the course of the workout, the body has to work harder to compensate, rather than settling down to maintain a set level of effort as efficiently as possible. And I’ve started incorporating other kinds of exercise as well, using a few free weights and an exercise mat, all purchased inexpensively at my local Target. And I’ve started to get a little weekend use out of that expensive gym membership.

Next time: how I learned to love carrots.

Tomorrow has arrived. I was “good” today. I managed to consume tuna for breakfast, and I ate lean barbeque for lunch, namely baby back pork ribs and jalepeno sausage. Perhaps that was not so lean after all.

I jogged for the first time in a while, and I suffered the customary embarrassment of being out-of-shape. I was lapped thrice by an attractive young lady. I didn’t mind.

In my sleepy state, I can type only simple sentences. Sleep pours over me… like molasses over a bunch of pancakes with bacon and eggs and sausage at IHOP…

Wait! That was a slip. No more of that weakness!

The Chinese buffet beckons. Will I heed its call?

Despite the contemporary American tendency to conflate the two, you may recall that there is a difference between “dinner” and “supper.” Dinner is the main meal of the day; supper is the evening meal. They need not coincide.

Until relatively recently, in fact, dinner was commonly served in the early afternoon. Many ethnic families preserve a vestige of the old practice on holidays: our Italian side, for example, traditionally serves Easter Dinner at 2pm. Some English families, I believe, still have the relatives in for Sunday [afternoon] Dinner, with roast beef and all the trimmings.

I bring all this up because, as part of the diet, I’m trying to take my main meal at lunchtime, with something lighter, typically a salad, in the evening. The theory is that I’ll be much more active after lunch than after supper. Even an afternoon behind a desk — which is never spent completely behind a desk, of course — must burn more calories than the typical weeknight procession from table to couch to bed. And there’s always the formidable walk home …

Something Holland said in I’ll Be Good Tomorrow didn’t quite hit me until just now. Adopting a healthier lifestyle doesn’t mean giving in to a more monotonous one. My own approach hasn’t forced me to cut (much) from my traditional diet, although the portions are smaller.

In fact, the whole experience has led to increased creativity in my hunting and gathering. If I can’t head down to the Border Cafe for a Chicken Burrito smothered in cheese with a big side of jambalaya, I need to find something else instead - and a can of tuna doesn’t really hold up in comparison.

Granted, at the moment I don’t know exactly what that alternative is, but I’m sure I’ll find something.

This morning I tipped in at 178.2 pounds, off by five over the last eight days. Last night also marked what is almost certainly an exercise record for me: my eighth consecutive day of getting a reasonable cardiovascular workout. And seven of those eight days featured a full fifty minute push. Saturday I did a 25 minute workout instead, but at a higher intensity level, and took a several mile walk that day too. And I’m not feeling any particularly compelling physical reason to stop, now that I’ve actually figured how to keep my brain engaged during the process (or get it fully disengaged, depending on how you look at it).

I don’t really remember what my previous consecutive workout days record was, but it couldn’t have been over five. Since I’m now on day nine, I’m definitely in uncharted territory, and should be able to push it a few more days at least.

The “eat sensibly” diet has been relatively easy to stick with, despite a few minor setbacks. I’ve been eating a lot of sushi, and things seem to have settled down in general. The overall eating plan has been close enough to normal that I’m not feeling particularly deprived, although I’m certainly spending more time hungry than I otherwise would.

As Holland noted earlier, there’s some night-to-morning fluctuation, with the morning weight generally being the lowest of the day. Before bed last night I weighed 180.0, resulting in a 1.8 pound overnight loss. My goal for the next two days is to end a day under 180 as well as starting it there (which I’ve done for the last few days). I hope to hit at least 175 by the end of the weekend.

For the first time in ages, I broke through the 170 barrier this morning, landing at 168 pounds according to my trusty bathroom scale. That makes for a net 17-pound loss since I began the diet four weeks ago today (including the Texas trip, during which I gained five pounds), and seven since the start of the cigar competition. It also places me within striking distance of my “safety” goal of 165. I am pleased with the progress. Avanti!

With apologies to Patsy Cline, I have found some data that bear out my personal experience with walking and weight loss.

There is an interesting front-of-the-book piece (last item) in the September Atlantic about a correlation between sprawl and obesity. A new study shows that residents of more densely populated counties weigh less, on average, than those of more sparsely populated counties. In a graph not reproduced online, New York County has an average weight of 161 pounds for a 5′7″ adult. The City and County of San Francisco comes in a distant second at 164 pounds. But bringing up the rear (and doubtless a sizeable rear at that) is suburban Geauga County, Ohio, which sprawls out from Cleveland. The average Geaugan weighs just under 168 pounds, seven pounds more than his counterpart in the Big Apple.

According to The Atlantic, the study’s authors hypothesize, “Cities encourage walking and physical fitness … whereas suburban homes are so far from friends, stores, and workplaces that even the most health-conscious residents are forced off the sidewalk and behind the wheel.”

Here we have another arrow in the quiver of New Urbanism, a movement to which I am very much attracted.

As a random aside, it appears that I lost three pounds overnight. Actually, I lost three pounds over fifteen hours. I wonder if fluctuations in body mass such as these are typical? I imagine that when I’m at the higher end of my weight spectrum, then fluctuations are likely to be more pronounced, but three pounds in fifteen hours?

A failing dieter’s most common refrain must be “I’ll be good tomorrow.” For about seven years, that refrain has been my own. Tomorrow, though, I must be good.

In September, I plan to interview for a job as a financial planner. Any work in sales requires great attention to one’s appearance, of course, and with the exception of weight, I am usually cautious in my self-presentation. I prefer to overdress, I am notoriously conservative in my selection of ties, and I try to match my polished shoes with my belt. Weight, though, has not been a priority.

Given the rather limited diet of my youth, I have explored a wide variety of foods, beginning with the cultural chaos offered by New Haven’s dining scene. Starting a healthy diet now hardly means the end of that worthwhile sense of culinary curiosity. Yet moderation must now govern my choice of portion sizes, and for once I need to consider the choleric implications of what I consume.

I plan on a shopping trip one month from tomorrow. That day, September 16, will be my birthday, and I intend to go on a spree to update my belts, shoes, shirts, and suit selections. Thus I have a motive to target a reasonable weight that I feel I can maintain.

So it begins tomorrow. The temptation is to engage in another “Hollando Tuna Diet” for two weeks, followed by Phase I of South Beach. That ought to promote a fairly rapid loss of weight. Thoughts? Smirks? Giggles?

For the record, a quick trip to the scales reveals that I weigh 180 pounds. My target weight is 156 pounds by September 16. Yes, the goal is an extreme one, but I have done this before and I can do it again. Gold’s Gym, the Baylor Bear Trail of jogging, and Chicken of the Sea will all help.

Like Will, I am on the cusp of a milestone. Despite last night’s two whiskeys at Tosca, despite Thursday’s Mexican indiscretions, the scale this morning said:

170.

Maybe, just maybe, the accelerated progress owes something to the extra walking I’ve been doing. For much of this week, I’ve shunned the buses and cabs I normally take in favor of my own two feet. I’ve walked both to work and back again. Leaving aside significant detours into North Beach, that’s one mile each way, including a steep, almost Sherpa-worthy ascent up Nob Hill on the way home. The sights — from the Victorians on Taylor Street, to the exoticism of Chinatown, to the spectacular view down Mason all the way to the Bay — nearly make up for the exercise involved.