I’m torn between “holy shit, I wish I had three more months” and “holy shit, I cannot wait to eat something besides chicken, fish and spinach“.
I can definitely feel the effects of eating low carb during this NPC Bikini prep. Long term, this is not a sustainable diet for me. My energy levels are rock bottom.
The plus side is that I give zero f***s about 90% of the things going on around me, which is probably the first time in my life.
You want to cut me off during my morning commute? Don’t care.
You want to show up 10 minutes late to a meeting you called with no prepared agenda? Whatever.
Basically all of my energy is spent standing upright, so I have nothing left for any bullshit. I feel like I’m living in someone else’s body. Not only because my body doesn’t LOOK like my body, but also because normally I am SUPER passionate about basically every little thing there is to be passionate about. This includes (but is not limited to) a proper way to put spoons in the dishwasher. However, with this mood altering low carb diet, it’s like I get to try out being someone else.
I bet my blood pressure levels are great right now.
.Except when I remember I’ll be on stage in 7 days. Then a lightening bolt of fear strikes through my body. The hairs on my arm stand up and I think “probably should have gotten laser hair removal there too”.
But since I don’t have the energy to care, I don’t.
So it finally happened. I stopped losing weight and inches. Which translates to “bye carbs” because I am still waiting on abs to appear in time for my first NPC Bikini Competition.
I could tell you it’s totally fine and I’m totally fine and it’s awesome and I’m handling it like a champ. But that would be a LIE.
It sucks. I didn’t even realize how beneficial the very small, very pure, amount of carbs I was eating was…until they were gone.
It’s not so much that I feel hungry. I just feel empty. And weak. And like I need to eat at least my body weight in cheezits. Or goldfish. Or white cheddar cheese puffs. Or Doritos (are you sensing a trend here, people?).
Forget 24 days to go.
96 more meals to go.
48 portions of fish to go.
72 servings of spinach to go.
144 more eggs to go…but only the whites.
And then I’m indulging in a cheese-flavored-chip-and-cracker buffet. I want a bowl of each. And not like a cereal sized bowl. A popcorn sized bowl. OF EACH.
I can’t wait (except I can and I will because I am not going to blow all this effort with only 24 days to go).