Mostly, I was good. Certainly more good than not. I haven’t been in a McDonald’s in months. When I was drawn toward the office candy machine, I didn’t even look at the high-fat choices. I got a box of Cracker Jacks or dumped a prepackaged low fat hot chocolate into my coffee, trying to push the chocolate and caffeine buttons while hopping nimbly over the fat.
It became easier with time. I struggled with the feeling that I was being unfairly deprived. Then, at a certain point, I made my peace with it. The cravings for fatty foods, for pastries, for chocolate ice cream began to dissipate. In fact, after about six wees of eating light, going for that napoleon wasn’t as pleasurable as I’d anticipated. I imagined it congealing in a big lump in my stomach. I also noticed my overall energy level was improving from lighter fare. A lunch of barbecued ribs, french-fries and creamy potato salad at Billy’s used to leave me ready for a two-hour nap—and nest to useless in that afternoon meeting.
