A fourteen-day chocolate fast A permanent break with chocolate, inspired by A Year of No Sugar, a stepping stone to becoming Added-Sugar-Free (Mostly!).
Day 3 (May 3).
I’ve been distracting myself with plans for other sugary deprivations. Or rather, I call it the elimination diet. I’m a picky eater. Very picky. So I decided last year or so, that if I was going to change my diet, I was aiming for “normal”–pizza, hotdogs, popcorn, and the like. But healthy. Like salads and brown rice. I’ve made some mega strides since I discovered Fat, Sick, and Nearly Dead last year on Netflix. I’ve been juicing veggies and fruit and drinking it daily for months now. Joe Cross changed my life. But I think A Year of No Sugar mentioned something in passing about seeking foods with five or fewer ingredients. Something to shoot for anyway. What is “disodium guanylate” anyway besides the twenty-somethingth ingredient? I don’t know. The workers at Pringles probably don’t know. Maybe their chemists do.
I’ve also been distracting myself with non-dietary mountains to conquer. Such as my lack of useful networking knowledge despite my getting a two-year degree in it back in the early, early 2000s. So from the interloan library, I picked three computer-related books, and I am determined to conquer my ignorance and actually understand some of what the vendors are trying to sell me and my workplace.
I had on and off again cravings today. Thing is, at work it is a lot easier to try things you normally wouldn’t. Because you are trapped. I don’t have a bear trap on my leg or anything, but if I didn’t bring it, and unless I buy it, there is no chocolate there. And I don’t buy anything. I don’t like to carry change, and I’m too lazy to use a vending machine anyway.
So sweet potato chips. By Heartland Harvest. Thing I want to eventually replace Pringles Cheesy chips with. My crunch fix made from just three ingredients: sweet potatoes, cottonseed oil, and seat salt. Those weren’t as good as the ones we made ourselves just the day or so ago–not as sweet, that is. But they were plenty fine when it was between that or gnawing on the fake wood of the desktop. Mighty fine. Strangely enough, as I gobbled them down, I thought they were almost sweet.
Sweetness, I have learned, is all context. Eventually I will be able to taste the 1g of added sugar in some of my snacks and think, “Wow, that hits my sweet spot!” Right? Right?
Oh, and if I need more than that, well, there was always my emergency stash of raisins. I miss the chocolate on them, but still, in that moment, oh so sweet, oh so good.
What would have been even better–that red I glimpsed out of the corner of my eye was a KitKat. That I could eat. Without consequence. Sigh.
I can do this.