Let me have men about me that are fat;
Sleek-headed men, and such as sleep a-nights;
Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look.
He thinks too much. Such men are dangerous.
Caesar speaks about Cassius in the play ‘Julius Caesar’, but the lines do not hold much relevance in the modern context.
They are no longer easily accepted by many people, including myself. The ‘lean and hungry look’ is currently trendy.
To confess, I have been battling the bulge for a while now, and I have lately decided to take the fight directly to it. When tipping the scales, there is frequently a steely resolve coupled with stoic indifference. Here, the logic frequently hides the truth, much like New Year’s resolutions.
This realisation came when the scales stayed put despite my best efforts, which included many Internet searches, attentively viewing slick videos, and rigorously adhering to various diet regimens. The idea of achieving that ‘lean look’ felt like an impossible goal, and the circumstance was depressing me.
Helpless, I therefore made the decision to follow my close family members’ counsel and give up any hope of keeping my transformation plan a secret. What came next was an outpouring of sympathy and sage advice. Being a doctor, my husband insisted that I only eat foods with a low GI index. My older son, a health enthusiast, gave me clear instructions on how to go on a calorie-deficit diet and assured me that would do the trick. My younger son, a fitness expert, solemnly informed me that with age the metabolic rate lowers, and so he insisted on aerobic workouts with the proper diet. The final say, however, belonged to my sister who encouraged moderate eating as opposed to pursuing these tricks.
The replies left me feeling incredibly moved and overwhelmed. Now that I had more options, each of which seemed to be the best, my position had become worse. I now incorporated a little of each of the aforementioned advice and restarted like a competent juggler. A few weeks later, when I stepped on the scales with trepidation, I noticed with horror there was no change. Not only did the scales refuse to budge but they also refused to conspire with me on my weight loss journey.
I was at this point, saved by the proverb “When the going gets tough, the tough get going”, which inspired me to look everywhere. And I waded through a sea of literature on “How to lose weight?”. As foreseen, I came across numerous options, including intermittent fasting, the keto diet, the zero-sugar diet, and others. Some people solely advocated for “superfoods” on the one side and wholesome, natural foods on the other.
After painstakingly sifting through the facts, I narrowed down on details that would suit me and made significant modifications to my regular food intake and physical activity. It has been quite some time now since I have gone near the scales. Kept under the staircase, it challenges me to step on it. Finally mustering courage, I once again stepped on it after a month or so.
To my amazement and delight, my weight had decreased by a few grams. Yet, my euphoria now borders on nightmares because if I’m not careful the scales have threatened to exact revenge on me for my momentary victory.
nimyvarma@gmail.com
