Fools, money, parted--you know the drill

One of the most overwhelming dangers of the Internet is the false sense of intimacy it provides. Even smart people can (and do) fall prey to this; back in the early days of "phishing" I thought I was updating some information for eBay and as a result got my bank account cleaned out. I got the money back but it didn't change the fact that I felt like a complete moron when I found out what had happened. A lot of times it takes situations like that to wake people up, but when something is glaringly obvious and still people fall for it, then whine about how they got ripped off? To paraphrase Seinfeld's Soup Nazi, no sympathy for you.

And so it is with me and Kimkins.

If you've been around the low-carb world for more than a couple of years you have undoubtedly encountered the sordid saga of one Heidi Diaz, who one day got it into her head that she wanted to be Grand Poobah of Something and came up with Kimkins, essentially a low-fat low-calorie low-carb plan. She created a website, charged people thirty bucks for the privilege of accessing her wisdom, and essentially had thousands of people falling all over themselves to sign up. The devotees raved about the ease of the diet and how wonderful "Kimmer" was and how beautiful she looked after losing all the weight and Heidi basked in all the attention. If someone dared to express even the slightest doubt about the Almighty Kimmer they were immediately banished from the cult website. At its peak Heidi was literally raking in millions of dollars--raising the admission price helped with that--and got Kimkins a cover story in Woman's World magazine.

As it's said, absolute power corrupts absolutely. Our Heidi got greedy and mean, and Kimkins wiped out in spectacular fashion complete with lawsuits galore. That didn't surprise me. What did surprise me were the enormous amounts of people who gladly handed over money to someone who, to her credit, never claimed to be a doctor or any sort of weight loss expert except for her personal experience. Hell, she even got people to work for her that had never met her in real life. And the merry chase she led Jimmy "Livin' La Vida Frankenfoods Low-Carb" Moore on when he was blustering all over the place that Kimmer was Teh Awesome was one of the best 'net trainwrecks I've ever seen. Now there are websites for "Kimkins survivors."

Back in the day for shits and giggles I checked out the Kimkins site. The first thing I saw was a picture of actress Jaclyn Smith. Below was a blurb along the lines of "Ask me, Kimmer, how I got to look this great!" When I pointed out on the forum I was visitng at the time that it was Jaclyn Smith, you would have thought I said "the Antichrist." "No, it's not, it's Kimmer!" cried the acolytes, even after I linked to a Jaclyn Smith fan site that had the identical picture. These same people were the ones crying loudest about how Heidi ripped them off when everything went down. Countless blogs kept track of the downfall, all outraged that they had been led astray by some fat housewife from California. And I just watched, and occasionally snickered.

A good rule of thumb to go through life with is don't give money to strangers. I have broken the rule occasionally, but never in large amounts. How often have we heard about someone supposedly down on their luck that everyone runs to give money to, only to learn that the whole story was bullshit? I've seen many instances on the 'net of this as well. If someone has their hand out asking for mandatory donations? Walk on by. I don't care if they're offering the secret to eternal life ... or a quick easy way to lose weight. If you're dumb enough to do it and get ripped off learn from the experience instead of whining about being a victim.

So yeah, Oprah.

By now everyone's heard that Oprah Winfrey, the Goddess of Daytime TV, is back up to 200 pounds (at least that's what she's admitting to). Like many things Oprah does this was reported as news of the utmost importance and has been a hot topic in the blogosphere as well. Of course the low-carb/zero-carb blogs are sniffing "well, she just needs to eat like US!" And therein lies the problem.

It is amazing to me how many people gush over how "real" Oprah is, and her latest trip up the scales has her fans billing and cooing about how BRAVE she is to come out and admit what anyone who's stood in a supermarket checkout line could have told you six months ago looking at her magazine--she's porking up again. "I have trouble with my weight toooo!" they say. "Oprah's just like MEEEEEEE!"

I personally have nothing against Oprah. Anyone who can go from abject poverty to three-times-over billionaire without whacking somebody gets props from me. But a little fact seems to slip under everyone's radar ... she's an actress. She got her start in TV news, where anchorpeople are required to constantly feign emotion. When she made the jump to films, she was nominated for an Oscar for her role in "The Color Purple" and that in a lot of ways spurred the talk show. She can ACT like she gives a shit about you when in fact she lost herself in her own PR a while ago. Come on, who else would buy a magazine just to put her own face on it every month? Who else would charge her minions $200 a pop to hear her mouth platitudes Dale Carnegie would find stale? She pays people to tell her what she wants to hear. In this case, it's that she has a bad thyroid, that her hormones are out of whack, that it's not her fault. No one's going to tell her "you're eating too much fucking sugar and Bob Greene is a crackpot and Dr. Phil has no right to have any opinion on diet considering he could stand to lose about fifty pounds and we all know you have a crush on that Oz guy which is why you have him on every other week."

Maybe someone has told her. But ... she's Oprah. One word from her can get your book on the best-seller list, have your movie gross another $10 million, get your own talk show. She will listen to only what she wants to hear ... and she doesn't want to hear that she can't eat mashed potatoes again, just like a crack addict can't get told "you can't smoke rocks anymore."

So ... I'm back.

Time to get this place fired up again. I'm pretty sure zero carb is the way I need to go. I feel my best on it and I do lose weight. Back to the gym too, but more as a sleep aid than a weight loss aid. I'm not going to worry about portion size or how many pounds a week. I'll just eat meat when I'm hungry.

8 Simple Rules For Following Low Carb (Because You People Are Starting To Piss Me Off)

I’m still a regular visitor over at the Low Carb Board That Shall Not Be Named. There’s been a flood of noobs over there since those studies came out a couple of weeks ago that low carb might not be all that evil. Now I don’t claim to be any great diet guru but Jesus, even when I was first starting to get into this I didn’t ask the stupid shit I’m seeing there. Since I would get flamed to a crisp for saying anything remotely negative like “really, you’re this dumb and you’ve reproduced?” I will write my list here.

1. READ THE FUCKING BOOK. Atkins, Protein Power, Carbohydrate Addicts, whatever you’ve decided to do. If you’re cheap you can find all of them in used bookstores but for the love of God read the damn thing. There is a 99.9999998 percent chance that what you’re asking will be found in the book. Don’t say you’re following XYZ plan and make it blatantly obvious you picked it because your 28-month-old DD sounded cute when she said the name.

2. If you have to ask “can I eat (whatever)”, you can’t. See rule one for clarification.

3. Many people wiser than me have said this--if you try to recreate the way you used to eat on a low-carb plan you will fail. Just because it’s sugar-free low-carb shit doesn’t mean it’s not shit.

4. When in doubt, eat meat and veggies. Actually, when in doubt just eat meat. You don’t need veggies—that’s a holdover from the indoctrination we got that veggies = health. They don’t.

5. Ketostix are useless unless you’re a type 1 diabetic. Because you know what happens once your body gets used to using ketones as fuel? The sticks stop changing color. Also pink or purple is no indication you’re losing weight. Lora Ruffner of the Low Carb Luxury site once got stalled for a SOLID YEAR—and all the while her ketostix were nice dark purple.

6. Scales? If you weigh once a month or so, okay. Three or more times a day? Useless again, particularly if you’re a woman. Go by how you feel and how your clothes fit.

7. Don’t panic if you don’t drop ten pounds in the first week. Don’t panic if you’ve been losing relatively quickly and then tail off. Just don’t fucking panic, okay?

8. It’s very easy to stress out about eating too much/too little, exercising too much/not enough, responding badly to food, etc. That’s the beauty of eating this way—you can tweak to your heart’s content. Try different things and find what works for you. Just because someone has 5000 posts on the board doesn’t mean they’re not talking out of their ass. Pay attention to those who’ve lost weight, or those who seem to be honest about everything. There’s a lot of people who just use the place for social hour. You can tell who the serious ones are—even if they joke around.

Go in peace.

Tweaking like a meth addict

The Carnivorous Regime continues, with some success and a lot of playing around. The only dairy I eat these days is heavy cream, used to boost the fat content of stuff like chicken breasts and tilapia (the only fish I can eat that doesn't gross me out). It is carefully measured out as well. Red meat was banished temporarily, only to be brought back. Tonight I ate whole eggs for the first time in a while to see if they affect me. Still keeping green stuff to the weekends. I dutifully plug in my numbers into Fitday, averaging about a 60/40 fat/protein ratio and about 1700 calories. And I go to the gym at 4:30 in the morning for either a couple miles on the elliptical or lifting.

My suspicions about my scale being off? Correct. I bought an analog scale and found I was 220. And I kept being 220. The little voices started whispering. Maybe Good Calories, Bad Calories is bullshit. Maybe you'll have to start doing low-fat like you used to. Up the fat. Lower the protein. Get rid of the veggies.

At the same time, though, there were encouraging signs. My jeans were getting extraordinarily loose in the legs and ass. A favorite pair of black suede ankle boots that were sitting in my closet for five years because last time I tried to wear them the zipper only went up a half inch could now be zipped all the way (and worn to a concert). A pair of pull-on khakis that I'd bought three years ago no longer gave me a continent-swallowing camel toe and could be worn in public. My original engagement ring--yes, I have two--which similarly sat in my ring holder for about the same amount of time as the boots in my closet now sparkles on my right ring finger. There is a definite hollow beneath my breast bone that doesn't require me sucking in my stomach to see it. I sleep a little better. My nails are growing nicely. My gums look awesome.

And Tuesday the choir of angels sang as the scale read 215. The scale at the gym was 218.5, leading me to believe that this is accurate. There was joy and perhaps a little squeeing.

I don't miss veggies or sweets. Heavy cream, a past bugaboo, looks like it can be controlled. The only thing I want now is for my weight to start with a 1. Maybe before my birthday in two months. Maybe sometime this year.

The Episode In Which LRA Becomes A Carnivore

A few weeks ago I volunteered for my city's Race For The Cure with a few other people from my company. There were pictures taken for the company's in-house magazine and they were forwarded along to us. I was only in one. That was plenty because I looked completely awful in it. I know it's said the camera adds ten pounds, but I didn't think that would include a double chin and a bright red face.

So I slowly gathered my resolve and three weeks ago I cut all plant life out of my diet. I eat mostly meat, some egg whites and a little cheese and butter (and I'm, ahem, cutting the cheese once it's gone). I do have green stuff with one meal on Saturdays but that's it--yep, I've turned into the freak for whom vegetables are treats. And ... I'm feeling better. One thing I noticed immediately is that my normally crappy gums look gorgeous now. I have a cleaning in three weeks--thanks to said crappy gums and teeth I have to get quarterly cleanings, but I am hoping that this new regimen might aid in getting me down to twice a year like normal people. I've lost three pounds, down to 211, and in addition to my gingivitis clearing up my face is a little less red (I suspect I might have rosacea and this regimen is supposed to be good for it), I'm not bloating/retaining water and I'm sleeping a lot better. I've also returned to the gym with a vengeance, back to my 6x/week workouts. I have to do that since I spend the majority of my time sitting on my ass staring at a computer screen. Best of all ... I'm not hungry. I don't have the urge to go face first in a bucket of cream sauce or cheesecake (even if it is low-carb). I eat my two meals a day and I'm good to go.

Mmm, meat--om nom nom nom ...

WTF?

Hi, here again. (waves)

A couple of weeks ago I went up to Boston to visit with friends and take in a Yankees/Red Sox game at Fenway Park. Since I am a Yankees fan and was decked in navy and gray from head to toe, I am almost certain that a Red Sox fan saw this, went "ooh, Yankees fan!" and coughed on me. My certainty comes from the fact that the next day I was constantly clearing my throat. On the plane home my throat was sore and with dismay I could feel my temperature rising. The next morning, I awoke with a 102-degree temperature and horking up stuff that looked like alien life forms. I went to the local urgent care center (which is also my PCP) and after they got my info they brought me in and popped me on the scale. Last time I had weighed myself I was still in the 215 area. The urgent care scale, however, showed 224. "Maybe it's your clothing," suggested the nurse. Um, no, I don't think a sweatshirt, jeans, sneakers, underwear and socks weigh nine pounds. Conclusion--my scale is off.

This morning for the hell of it I weighed myself. 209. I'm still only eating one meal a day (and not exactly sticking to low carb) so I chalk it up to the recent illness. I must admit I'm considering buying another scale (analog this time) to see if my current scale, which is digital, is off. Or maybe the urgent care scale is. I haven't noted loosening clothes, but then they haven't tightened either. Hmm.

I'm still rundown, but I've been sleeping a lot and I need to get this place fired up again.

Buckling down

I have been inspired by the ever-awesome Tracy at Fear and Loathing in the Kitchen and her posts concerning being a total carnivore. With the exception of some carrots in a stew I made Sunday, a few marinated mushrooms (Costco sells them, oh dear Cthulhu they are the bomb but I do mean only a few, maybe fifteen for the entire week) and some almond milk I have eaten nothing but meat, eggs, a little cheese and fat since Sunday. I'm still doing the one-meal-a-day thing. The other night I killed half of a fairly sizable chicken, did steak and eggs a couple of times. I made rev rolls last night, but instead of six I made twelve little ones. I bought some sausage patties, cooked them up, and made the wheat-free version of one of my favorite treats, sausage and biscuits, with the rev rolls. Yum. Oh--and I've dropped about five pounds. Up yours, low-fatters.

As I said in my previous entry, I'm practically positive that the intermittent fasting has played a huge role in me being able to maintain but not lose weight. The non-loss of weight I blame on alcohol. I love to drink, always have, but lately it's just been getting ridiculous. Let's put it this way--if I gave you amounts someone would be coming down and either hustling me to an AA meeting or throwing my ass in rehab. However, compared to a few months ago when I was getting smashed pretty much every night, more recently I've been confining it to the weekends. Now? It's out of the picture, at least for a while. I'm fortunate in when I decide to quit something I can do so pretty easily. I smoked for twenty years, but nine years ago I decided to quit. The last time I had a cigarette, two years ago, it tasted so fucking awful I thought to myself "How the hell did I do this for so long?" There was a period of five years where I didn't drink. That's the whole point of anything--quitting smoking, quitting drinking, quitting a bad habit, losing weight--you have to WANT to do it. If you don't want to, no amount of rehab or meetings or patches or support forums is going to help your ass.

However, I'm trying not to look at this as a "just lose weight" thing. I tend to fixate on that and it's not good for me to do that. Right now it's basically detoxing. I'm feeling better, I'm starting to sleep better. And the gym is calling my name. I want to start pumping iron again, get some strength and stamina back. And when I want to do something, I do it. One day at a time ain't just a seventies TV show, you know.

Hello. (waves)

Yeah, I've been gone for a while. Had a LOT of stuff to deal with that I don't really want to get into--it'd bore you anyway.

The deltoid pull actually turned out to be a small tear, so I was on doctor-mandated "no weights" orders. As a result, I've pretty much stayed away entirely from the gym. However, I just got clearance to start again and to stay the hell away from the fly machine that injured me in the first place. Dude, I don't do machines anymore.

I haven't lost any weight, but I haven't gained any either--I stay right around the 215 mark, and the jeans I bought in my last entry still fit nicely. Lately I've been only eating one meal a day, through I throw in an extra here and there just to shake things up, and I credit that for the maintenance. I will admit to breaking down and eating flour and rice once in a while. I can do rice, but flour ALWAYS makes me regret it.

I got a Nano and wireless headphones for Xmas which I'm dying to try out at the gym.

Anyway, I'm back. Hope someone missed me.