Chalain and I joke about low-carb dieting all the time. See, we know it works for us, but both of us “fall off the wagon” from time to time.
I’m not sure of the origin of the “on the wagon” metaphor, but it’s very visual for us. See, when I stop low-carbing it’s usually because of stress, and I begin to crave comfort foods. That means chocolate, french toast, and big bowls of fried noodles. And from there things usually progress into a diet where I’m living off of “spaghetti toast” (toast with marinara sauce) and chocolate milk.
And Chalain and I describe it not as “falling off the wagon” but as “leaping from the wagon, stripping naked, and running off into the woods to play with the faerie folk.”
Low-carb dieting, for me anyway, is a discipline that helps me break my addiction to dancing naked with elfkin.
For the last three weeks I’ve been stressed, and I’ve made it further and further into the woods. The brownies and I had quite the mosh pit last week, and Saturday I realized that I was back up to needing two naps per day, and still not having any energy. So Sandra and I agreed it was time to get back on the wagon.
Firing up the low-carb diet is not easy, because I have two days of comfort food cravings. This can be offset with medication (mostly caffeine, ibuprofen, and chromium) and exercise, but the side-effect is 18 hours of being wiped out in weird ways. Chalain and I describe THAT not as “getting back on the wagon” but as “getting on the wagon by standing in front of it, letting it hit you, and then getting caught up in one of the wheels.”
So… today I’m back under the wagon. The theme-song? “The Wheels On The Bus Go Round And Round.”