Doing a diet is hard. When you seeing a woman with perfect body smiling while eating her salad, its fucking fake. Salad can’t tame the hunger, Nasi Padang surely can. Drinking water wont stop the craving, sweets and doughnut and lots lots of carbs would do. Diet is hard especially when your starting point is 85kg and losing 5 or even 10kg wouldn’t made anything noticeable from your body. Technically speaking, I need to lose at least 30kg until I hit the magical scale of 55. Which is a long way to go because its week 3 already of OCD and gym and I lost merely 2kg. Yes, my scale now is 83kg.
Running is hard, gym is hard, pushing your leg to keep on bumping the road is hard. The sore, pain and exhaustiveness is hard. I fell asleep with sore arms and torso and legs and basically every muscle in me screaming for mercy. Not to mention all the bad words that comes from orang orang kurang bahagia across my running track.
Can’t eat anything you want is hard. I know OCD allows me to eat anything I want in my 6 hours meal window but to think that “When I’ll hit the 55 if I still ate 3 huge portion of meal?” restrain me from taking another scoop of ice cream, or buying gorengan, or making pasta like I usually do. Can’t fulfill your craving is hard. I woke up in the middle of the night thinking of martabak telor and taking esilgan instead so I can fall asleep without buying them in hurry.
Keeping the motivation alive is hard. It’s day 15 of OCD and I already broke my window meal 3 times. Not to mention the sweets, gorengan and large portion of lunch that I take in daily basis (even though it still in the meal window), to maintain the energy and willingness to go to the gym after a loooong tiring working day is hard. You know, there’s so many night I’m thinking about cancelling the gym because I do so many task at work, that I deserve to take a rest and watching TV. Some night I made it, some night I don’t.
Waking up at dawn to run is hard. I’d rather going back to sleep after solat subuh than pushing my tits on running bras and lace the shoes for another torturing activity. Right after that I’d felt the hunger yet the clock is 6am, means 7 hours to go before I allowed to eat. It feel stupid to drink so much water when you know you could’ve ate, you know, bubur ayam.
But its day 15 and I’m not giving up yet.
This is the longest period of dieting I’ve ever take. My past diet program is either extreme (like a whole week of not eating ANYTHING but an apple) or backbouncing and I’ll back to my old routine in no time. This time I’m trying to build a consistency rather than a shortcut. 15 days to go and my body will get used to it, I believe. Routine is what keep us stable, and I’m breaking my routine so it’s gonna make my world trembling, for sure. My digestive system that comfortable with savory-large portion meal will scream for more when I cut down the portion to half and change my daily meal into less savory dishes. The hunger is tame-able, the sore and pain of working out is heal-able. My organs will get used to it, my brain would have a whole new perspective and stop to stimulate the craving.
And then comes the question of “Why?” from everyone who knows that I’m doing this diet thingy. Then comes the compliments about I actually looks good even though I’m fat. Comes the encouragement even, to don’t bother suffering myself because I’m beautiful just the way I am. The last words comes from my dad actually, when I’m explaining my diet and refuse to eat at our Sunday Family Lunch.
To be honest, I don’t even know what is my reason of doing this.
I mean, my current weight is not jeopardizing my health (yet). I’m 85kg with a normal blood sugar, normal blood pressure, not having any major health issue but maag (which by doing the diet my maag is actually in harm) so I don’t think that much of “Aku diet biar sehat” because I’m fat and the doctor says I’m healthy.
I don’t want to impress anyone since I’m in the state of ‘being alone and not placing any interest to any men’ and I certainly believe that anyone who approach me would be okay with my weight since they can clearly saw that I’m fat. So no, there’s positive reason of why I keep on the diet track and pushing my limits to do the gym.
What’s left is an anger.
I’m driven by this negative emotion. I’m mad, I’m angry, I’m disappointed in the top levels of disappointment. At first. But then comes the week two, a month passed by since I drown in tears and nights of overthinking until now, I feel absolutely nothing. I even forced myself to cry by remembering the good and the bad memories but no, not a single tear comes out. So I can say that I finally overcome that. I finally done.
So my only reason of dieting is no reason. I just want to change and doing something new, this whole new habit would work on me and somehow makes me more excite to live. To keep myself challenged, to feel better about myself by achieving the milestones I made. Because we all need to do something to keep on going, right?
I’m fat and keep on running.