The title may be a bit overblown, but I’ve loved the word “plethora” ever since Chevy Chase, Steve Martin and Martin Short rode forth in The Three Amigos, and I don’t get to use it nearly enough. So, there’s that.
Anyway, I’m wrapping up my thirteenth week on Take Shape for Life. With 56 pounds vanished into the ether, the compliments flowing like box wine at a sorority party, and my waistline shrinking faster than Chumbawumba’s record sales, it’s still one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. I’ve also picked up a handful of tips that can help make the process easier, cheaper, or a bit more varied.
Mio
Any minute now, the music’s going to begin to thump, and those labels are going to come off. Hot.
If you’re like me, you used to drink soda like the US Navy guzzles diesel fuel. I used to stare at empty cases of soda in my fridge, wondering how they had managed to vanish so quickly after I’d bought them. On a Saturday, I could easily kill a dozen cans on my own. But even diet soda has the nasty habit of throwing a drag chute on your weight loss progress, so it had to be shelved.
Enter Mio, a delicious miracle in a bottle. Mio has been described as “Kool-Aid for responsible adults” by my girlfriend, and the description is apt. Of course, instead of boatloads of sugar and that syrupy flavor that six-year-olds adore and adults find to be vomit-inducing, this has a range of flavors much closer to what you’d taste in Gatorade or Crystal Light.
See, for some of us, the idea of drinking straight water just isn’t as rewarding something with some flavor. Mio allows you to get that flavor, but keep pounding back the water in a way that isn’t a miserable chore. Plus, if you really find yourself hankering for a soda, grab some carbonated water, toss in your preferred flavor, and go to town on that bad boy.
Turkey
I have a bit of an indecent relationship with hot roasted turkey right out of the oven. Jen and I have come to an “understanding”.
Lean and green meals are easily one of the highlights of my day. While I do maintain that the majority of the Medifast meals are actually quite good, there’s still something cathartic about going through the ritual of preparing a meal, and serving it up steaming from the oven. However, it’s very easy to fall into the trap of running to the grocery store every day to buy your lean and green fixings. This gets expensive. Fast.
Flapping to the rescue is the noble bird that Benjamin Franklin wanted as our national bird instead of the bald eagle. (True story.) Turkey is one of those rare meals that’s as good for you as it is delicious. I do mean delicious. Seriously, if your mouth isn’t watering at the thought of steaming roast turkey being carved off a golden bird, you’re either a vegan or dead. Maybe both.
Generally, people only find themselves buying a whole turkey in preparation for the alcohol and resentment-fueled revelry that is Thanksgiving. But when the grocery stores aren’t gleefully jacking up the price in preparation for frantic holiday homemakers scrambling to find a bird at the last second, whole turkeys are relatively inexpensive. You can walk out of the store having spent around twenty bucks, and when you’re done roasting, have enough servings for a week’s worth of lean and greens. Eat it that night, dice it up with peppers and onions, or chop some and throw it on a salad to make a regular green chicken salad feel like the sad little punk it is. You’re happy, your budget is happy, and you can nosh down on delicious white meat while Ben Franklin screams, “I told you so, dammit!” from beyond the grave.
Beware the snacks
Sneaky little bastards, aren’t they.
One of the positives for TSFL is that it recognizes a tiny little detail known as reality. There are going to be times when, for whatever reason, that three hours between meals stretches like taffy and you feel your stomach rumbling so loudly that annoying rednecks ask if that thing’s got a Hemi. (Fun fact: it is legal in all states except Delaware to punch them right in the throat when they ask that. In Delaware, you’re allowed to shoot them.) As such, TSFL provides a plethora (oh, yeah. That’s the stuff.) of options for snacking. There are limits, but if you just can’t wait, you can chomp down on a dill pickle spear or some celery until your next meal arrives.
I do, however, want to warn you about two of these allowed snacks. The first is peanut butter. The approved snack is a spoonful, but those of us who have spent years finding ways to cheat on diets will tell you that a soup ladle is “technically” a spoon. In addition, I’ve spoken to a number of fellow TSFL coaches that have stories about clients who have plateaued, but as soon as they deep-sixed the peanut butter, they got back on track. Far too many brands are loaded with sugar or sweeteners. In my personal opinion, it’s not worth the risk.
The second of the potential land-mine snacks is almonds. Almonds are delicious, healthy alternatives to many other snacks, and TSFL cheerfully says you can have ten as a snack.
Ten.
Ten almonds.
If you told a squirrel that he could only have ten almonds, he would scamper off, find a secret government facility, lap up the brain-enhancing juice, enroll in an ESL course, study late at night after he got off his shift at Hobby Lobby, graduate second in his class (it’s all politics; Jose was clearly in good with the teacher and besides, his verb conjugation is so much sloppier), hail a cab, negotiate a reduced rate because he didn’t have any luggage, drive back to your house, knock on your door, nod in a friendly but non-committal way to your neighbor as he waits for you to get to the door, look up at you, and tell you to go f*ck yourself with a tree branch.
It is humanly impossible to eat ten almonds if more than ten almonds exist in a one-mile radius. In fact, if you ever meet anyone who can eat ten almonds and then says, “No thanks, I’m good,” hit them with a crowbar, call the Men in Black, and get to probin’, because that sumbitch is an alien in disguise. I promise you, you can begin nibbling these nuts with all the good intentions in the world. You’re still going to find yourself staring at an empty can wondering where your life went wrong.
Anyway, that’s a few pointers. I understand three isn’t really a plethora, but I’ve now gotten to use the word plethora four times in a single article, and if I ever hit five at once, Chevy Chase will let me wear his hat. I feel very certain about this. I’ll have more pointers in the future, so if you have any suggestions, please email me or hit me up on my Facebook page and let me know.
Plethora.
