I lost two pounds. Which takes me to nine pounds away from my pre-Buttercup weight. (Also important? I gained 45 when baking the cute little bun in my oven.) And?
I celebrated with a brownie.
It might seem counter-productive, but I would like to blame The Husband. He is the one who offered it, after all. And because the brownie was eaten under the guise of peer pressure (read: he offered it. I said yes. End of story.) I believe the calories actually helped give me a leg up on next week's little ego-dump on the scale.
I should probably explain because it really wasn't as bad as it all sounds. The story started when The Husband and I drove out to Costco today. Since we only go when we run our of toilet paper, we like to make a traditional stop at Ecelctic Cafe. They have a to-die for gluten-free menu and because it's all real ingredients, I get to get all Bring IT when I see the menu. My favorites are the black bean tostada and the avocado salad. I get them every time.
We ate. And? It. Was. Good. I've been gluten-free and eating almost no grains for months now (except for the Dorito incident, but we've all forgotten about that, right? Good.) And of course, honey and maple syrup have taken over for sugar in my sweetening arsenal.
After 3.5 years of busting my ass at the gym and trying failing at every diet known to cellulite and muffin tops (see? I actually wrote muffin this time!) I was pretty much open to anything when The Husband came to me with online research showing connections between PCOS and gluten free diets. Then my twitter pal @vdemetros (also gluten free) suggested I give up the grains and sugar habit as well. I was already eating clean. And Buttercup and the Husband are Celiac, which means I only got to gorge on All Things Gluten like pizza and bread and pizza and bread and did I mention BREAD? when I was out and about on my own. And really? We all know how often that happens. So really, when the Grain-free, Gluten-free, Sugar-free change-over happened, the actual difference in my diet wasn't as big a shock to the system as the mental I WANT IT for all the crap I couldn't eat anymore.
But ya know what? I've been eating clean for a while now. Dropping the gluten was a piece of cake. And the inches on my waist (which I am not counting but trust me...I have a WAISTLINE now) and the slowly disapperaing Ass-Tau (kind of like a plateau, but much less attractive on a map) means I can't boast about my ability to serve a five-course meal on the shelf I used to hide on my backside. And we all know that is a very. good. thing.
And did I mention that because my life is always 16 different kinds of crazy I haven't had a chance to workout except for walking my dogs. Which is important, people, because it proves to me that working out until I was blue in the face wasn't doing me a damn bit of good until I also figured out the right diet for my body. Now, if I can just hire a maid, a nanny, an accountant, a personal chef, and a driver so I can have the necessary time I need to devote to a good 60 minutes of cardio every day, I'm sure I'll be passing GO! and collecting my MILF card before we run out of toilet paper again and The Husband offers me another brownie.