I’m Down a Handful of Pounds. Merci, “Flex-Frenching!”

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As a follow-up to this post,  this and this from June and July, here’s a quick update–and the last post that I’ll do on weight loss for a while since there are plenty of weight-loss blogs out there and you don’t need one more from me, although I’ll likely give another update in 6-8 weeks. (If you haven’t read those earlier posts yet, they may be helpful when trying to understand this one, so go check them out, they’re kind of brief).

Suffice it to say that “flex-Frenching” is working incredibly well for me!

It’s true (c’est vrai!) that weight loss of less than a pound a week would drive many a dieter bonkers. However, a) I don’t exactly consider myself a “dieter,” per se, because that implies calorie-counting and regular weigh-ins and meal planning to levels that I’ve not participated in and b) because I don’t know the French word for “dieter.”

And it’s also because over the last six weeks or so, I haven’t paid as much attention to what I eat, as I have to how and when I eat it. I generally consider myself a pretty healthy eater, so the actual food that I put in this mouth is less of an issue than the quantities and borderline-obsessive frequency with which such things as apples and almond butter and carrots and hummus make their way into this body.

All that said, following the rules that I laid out in the first post about flex-Frenching (at least, about 90% of the time for nearly all of them) has made all the difference.

With the exception of a return road trip during which I had a horrible drive-thru meal of a milkshake and French fries (not so French), I haven’t eaten a single thing in the car (a huge change). And with the exception of a handful of snacks, I haven’t eaten a single meal on the sofa (an enormous change!).

Sitting at a table, watching the birds or Ella play in the yard while I eat breakfast and lunch has left me not a only a few pounds slimmer, but feeling quite a bit more civilized, too. And, since civility in every form seems to be in short supply these days, if something as simple as sitting a table to eat brings some sense of it into my life (and leaves me a few pounds lighter, too), then I’m all for it and I highly recommend it.

Here’s another great thing about that: In the “old” days, prior to flex-Frenching, it might take me 15 minutes to eat my breakfast on the sofa while perusing the interwebs. Now, it may still take 15 minutes, but after sitting at the table enjoying the view and letting my mind wander for a bit, I come back to work feeling refreshed and refocused. More productive. Just better. Even in the sweltering summer heat.

For those who would be in a tangle if they didn’t lose two or three pounds a week, I also say this: There’s not been a moment when I’ve felt deprived. Why? Because I never need to say no to anything I want to eat, if I actually want it. If I’m unsure, I ask myself if what I may potentially pass up is special: Is it something I wouldn’t eat often, did someone put their love and time into making it, is it something I’ve never tried before? If any of those are true, I go for it. If it’s a bag of baked cheesey doodles, well, maybe I’ll eat a bunch, but maybe not. I try to avoid those things but I haven’t absolutely sworn off anything.

And don’t get me wrong–I’m sure if I passed up the baked cheesey doodles, maybe I would lose a full pound (or more) a week. I’m still stuffing myself into size-too-small jeans because I don’t want to buy replacements. I still walk a little differently because my body is differently laid out from the extra weight. And I haven’t done Barre3 in about six weeks and rapidly lost muscle tone, so I need to get back on that.

But as far as the actual poundage, I consider it especially great in light of the fact that I typically gain 6-8 pounds each summer. If I can peel off a few instead, then it’s like double the progress (like when I would bartend or wait tables on a Friday night: Instead of going out and spending $100, I’d make $200, which put me up $300, in my mind at least. Double-super-bonus).

Overall, flex-Frenching is tres bon and I’ll continue with it indefinitely, forever, maybe?

PS: I recently found out through the magic of DNA testing that I’m about 1/3 French, too. But that’s the subject of another post. Oui, oui, oooh la la!

{Photo credit: Photo by rawpixel.com from Pexels, thank you! Who doesn’t love some French bulldogs?}

{Note: Although it’s not very apparent from these last few posts, this blog is actually about trying to heal autoimmune disease. And these are my own experiences with applied kinesiology, which clearly aren’t meant as medical advice for anyone else. But I know a lot of friends and family members are grappling with a huge variety of autoimmune issues and other ailments, so I’m happy to share my experiences. And if this is your first visit and you’d like to follow chronologically, click here. Otherwise, enjoy!}