Though I've lost a lot of weight in the past year, I told myself this summer would finally be the summer I walk out of the pool glistening like a Davidoff advert and showing off my chiselled 6-pack. The reality was that I looked down and realised I hadn't reached any of my goals for a toned body because I haven't stopped eating crap ...I've just exercised and maintained the same "skinny fat" shape. So whilst struggling with both weight and writers block, I thought like a true artist and decided I should put myself through, and therefore write about, something so challenging, gruelling and demanding on both mind and body that I'm bound to win a Pulitzer.
I decided to go cold turkey on sugar.
I know, right. Single-handedly tackling this country's obesity problem.
Part One: The First 8 Days
DAY ONE:
11.14 - I swear to God I feel ill; I know that’s ridiculous and it’s all in my head (and I’ve just got back to work after ten days in Marbella) but I really do feel shaky.
12.31 - So what the fuck do I have for lunch?
I’m getting a cold sore. I’m actually getting a fucking cold sore. I haven’t had a cold sore since I was about ten. This is disgusting! …I wonder if you can rub sugar directly on to a cold sore?
21.00 Oh wow, just read that sugar travels to your brain on the same path that heroin does. I’m on a heroin withdrawal like Mimi out of Rent. Can just imagine by day four that I’m going to be wandering around the apartment clutching a tea light and singing “Would You Light My Candle?” on the hunt for a Dairy Milk wrapper to suck.
DAY TWO:
7.15 - I thought this diet was supposed to aid a better night's sleep. I, on the other hand, have woken up thinking my phone's having an actual joke with the alarm. It cannot be the morning. No. I've only just lay down.
9.21 - So the crankiness has set in. It’s like I have no filter! I can't believe this is what two days of sugar withdrawal does to a person.
12:01 - Seriously, though, what the fuck do I have for lunch? Soup is full of sugar, apparently,
12:25 - Ooo grilled salmon has only 0.1g of sugar (AND 13G OF FAT?!)
12:30 - Fuck it I'm having microwaved grilled salmon. But with what? Research into other people who've done this tells me I'm supposed to sprinkle things like "carob beans" on to home caught fish (sorry, let me just get my spear out and go stabbing in the Bridgewater Canal) with a handful of fresh kale. Anyone who genuinely knows what a carob bean is come see me so that we can stop being friends.
13:30 - in the aisle of The Co-op - WHY DOESN'T ANYWHERE FROZEN MICROWAVABLE GRILLED SALMON?!
21:00 - I've been shopping but only lasted about two hours. And eating something actually only made my energy levels dip even more because there was no sugar in it. Clearly my personal sugar addiction was much worse than first thought.
21:30 - I have had to get in to bed. Like I've actually had to because I sat down on it and couldn't get back up again. Surely this is all in my head? Sugar can't physically affect a person this much...can It?
DAY THREE:
7.15 - Another morning of waking up to thinking I've only just gone to sleep. When does the "oh my God you wake up feeling completely different" shit start?
11:50 - Very nearly buckled at the sight of some strawberry pencils at work. I could so easily chow down on a strawberry pencil or four but it's only been three days and I would love, for once in my life, to actually complete a goal (without minor cheats along the way). I have instead opted for a handful of Snackrite pretend Pringles that are actually only <0.1g sugar per 30g! They're full of salt and other shit but give a fuck because I'm not on a diet I'm on a sugar boycott. They are not one in the same.
17.50 - So I've taken a tiny foot off the bandwagon (trust me, I've been known to dive spectacularly off it so this is pretty good) by having barbecue sauce on my meatballs for dinner. To be fair I figured it's probably not that sugar-ific until I researched and found there's, on average, around 10g of sugar in one serving. Shit.
DAY FOUR:
12:59 - Whoever the fucker was that thought It's acceptable to bin/steal/move the tin opener in the office kitchen needs to get their fucking head sorted. I've just had to spend 20 minutes of my life using a pair of scissors to stab open a tin of tuna to put on my measly salad. Symptom check: yes, irrational bursts of anger are still very much present.
DAY FIVE - SEVEN:
7am-11pm - Abyss.
7am - 11pm - miserable darkness salvaged, ever so slightly, by vodka and slim line tonic. Lots of Iit.
7am - 11pm - hangovers are shit with no sugar but I'm starting to feel a bit...normal?!
DAY EIGHT:
9:30 - Feeling incredibly smug after walking past a sign for Oreo, Peanut Butter, Banana Nutella and Ferrero Roche milkshakes and not even quivering slightly. Every morning I walk past that sign on the way to work and this is the first time I haven't slowed to a time-lapse pace to deliberate having one as a 'breakfast snack'; James 1, Sugar 0.
10.56 - Water, water, everywhere and not a drop to drink. Except for the dribble falling on to my keyboard. It's my colleague's 40th birthday and there's a tray of cupcakes, a red velvet cake, a strawberry and white chocolate cake (my favourite) and a shit tonne of Haribo. I can live without the Haribo but fuck me...red velvet cake. COME ON!
11.00 - I will not eat those cakes. I treated myself to wine at the weekend and glared at the biscuit tin for two days. I will not fall now. I will not eat those cakes.
11.02 - I could have half a cake.
11.03 - I will not have half a cake.
11.10 - I ate one cupcake. I hate me.
