Ok, so I loved Kallie Purie's ‘Confessions of a Serial Dieter’. I can follow some of her crazy diets but cannot follow the lunatic workout routines.
I am not obsessed with getting to that perfect weight but when I try so hard shouldn't I get somewhere near? Between the autocratic 8 and a half office punching in and punching out, Gurgaon commute, work and home chores, I follow a Shikha Sharma bland diet and stagger on the treadmill for at least 4 times a week and no more. When I sleep late, I wake up late so the morning sleep devours my sparse workout and what follows are a couple of sad and yawning smileys on my BBM Status. Nothing more to cover up the guilt. During the evening travel, back home, I lust food. The growling tummy conspiringly blinds my mind with images of the fattiest foods possible. The domino’s pizza which I haven't eaten in over months, lovingly beckons me, adorned with extra melted and sizzling mozzarella. Or the Mc Donalds (which is now 2 minutes from home) dangles the red hot New Mexican spicy collection. The paneer tikkas do a brave bungee jumping in the mint chutney. After the starving journey ends, what follows at home is an overdose of diet biscuits and mixtures. So I have happily done away with the fat laden chips (at times there are left over from the last night party and sympathetically find a way to my growling tummy) but that does not help. And no, I don't even want to look at fruits or milk when I am so ravenous.
I love and hate food. For most of the foods I love, I have tried to start hating them. Even in weak moments, they remain ruthlessly ignored. The forgotten Ferrero Rochers yelp every time I open the fridge but I rudely skim out the cucumbers and shut the door of the fridge hard. The cheese slices endlessly wait to rest on the soft bread slices but they are left cold and unwanted. But I cannot ignore the chocolate layered doughnuts or the doughnuts flooded with the smoothest and thick coffee flavored liquid. And I cannot ignore the heavily fried papris or any shaped pasta and I cannot resist pita bread waiting to bathe in the olive oil smeared hoummos. So for those who love me, please do not get these sinful things near me, ever.
But then how do I get to my perfect weight which lives happily ever after in the far far away land?
Any agony aunt (or size zero lass) has answers to my love hate problem?
