The 5th Notch

I profess repeatedly that this is a Science Experiment, denying most vehemently that it is a "diet". But in actuality it's a test of resolve, pure will power.

I only eat one day a week. The other six days are filled, from sun up to sun down, with pills, oils, supplements, and various other crap I can barely pronounce. Food is a visceral experience that most people take for granted. I know I did. We use every sense at our disposal to consume it. We take it in with our eyes; we can smell it, hear the sounds it makes as we tear it, cut it. We take it in our hands, finally taste it as we corral it into our mouths, and chew. For six days out of the week I am denied that. I hold little tasteless, white, off-white, and yellow capsules. I pop them ask quickly as I can into my mouth and wash them down with water. It's the antithesis of eating. I'm left wanting, longing. But it's not hunger. I crave the experience. I lust after flavor. All the while I'm surrounded by delicious food, the smells of cooking, people eating.

In the first few days of this experiment I found myself walking, quite absently, to the refrigerator. I wasn't hungry. But I wanted texture and taste. This is undoubtedly a pitfall of many a determined weight-loser. Each time though, I caught myself at the threshold to the kitchen and turned back around shaking my head.

Don't get me wrong here, there is some flavor in my day. Unfortunately, to a one, they make me a bit queasy. I power through them, shake violently while I will myself to move past the flavor, and come out the other side no worse for the near retch. But, I'm stubborn. I'm going to keep pushing this experiment until it's just not constructive to keep doing so. And since I'm now using the last hole in my belt, it's still constructive.

Day eighteen of 90. Tomorrow I eat.