That's what I'm trying to tell myself, anyways.
We all have our greatest trap - ice cream is mine. I probably love Chicago deep dish pizza more, but you can't get that so much in the San Fernando Valley.
I think about ice cream at least a few times a day. Sad, but true. I fantasize about it when I pass a grocery store or Coldstone Creamery, I crave it when it's even the slightest bit warm outside, my heart beats faster when I hear the siren-like song of an ice cream truck. I'm stuck in a truly Pavolvian nightmare.
But I have to fight it. Because if I allow myself a little, I won't stop there. I am trying to stock my fridge with tolerable substitutes - fruit bars, popsicles, light sorbet. But even in these I overindulge. It's a constant battle, and so far it's been a losing one, but I haven't given up the fight.
Maybe I need to picture the head of someone I hate atop every ice cream cone. Maybe I need to hit myself in the face every time I take a bite, so that it gives it a negative association. I don't know what the answer is. Maybe there isn't one. Sometimes I feel as if ice cream is far too powerful for me to even attempt to combat. It is my Goliath. My delicious, creamy Goliath.
Starting weight: 222.4 lbs
Day 179 weight: 212.8 lbs
Total loss: 9.6 lbs
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My husband is the exact same way. He would not even eat one bite of my pomegranate non-fat frozen yogurt (which does not even remotely qualify as ice cream) because it would trigger an ice cream bender. Good luck conquering ice cream.
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