I thought, initially, "24 hour fast: that could be neat. Gandhi did all the time." With my beach vacation quickly approaching, I decided to try one of those lemonade, cayenne pepper diets. A nice two day pre-beach push for flat and skinny. The first day would begin at midnight on the 156th day of my challenge. It would end 15 hours and 20 minutes later.
I made two liters of the so-called "lemonade," amped and ready to be a bikini bomb shell in 48 hours.
I drank a half liter and decided, a bikini bullet casing would do.
The thing is I workout fairly regularly. I run, I lift, I eat healthy. I indulge in booze and fatty foods from time to time but all in moderation and rarely to my own detriment. I keep a decently healthful lifestyle. I would be throwing myself on the proverbial gym room floor in classic DJ Tanner fashion attempting to achieve something I've already got; a body I'm happy with.
Diets and fasts cause, what my nutrition genius roommate calls, "metabolic damage." My metabolism works pretty well already. I've learned how to eat properly so that it would. There's no quick fix for the slight roll here or the way elastic may pinch there. She pointed out I could cut back on carbs and water to see a moderate difference in three days and I may. Ultimately, I'm ok with how I look, even if the girls under the umbrella next to me look better. It's sort of like that episode of Sex and the City, Season 2, Episode 17, where the girls realize they'd rather be comfortable where they are in their lives than desperately grasping at some perfection that doesn't exist.
Why hurt my metabolic system in such a fashion for a few days on the beach, which are meant to be for relaxation and enjoying the company and comfort of close friends? I see no reason.
