Starting My Diet Tomorrow…
They say the first step is the hardest. Nonsense. The hardest part is the first morning.
Anyone who has ever planned to “start a diet tomorrow” knows exactly what I mean.
As a “still fairly young grandma,” I’ve got plenty of frontline experience in this department.
I fear no challenges — I can handle a three-year-old in turbo mode, survive a weekend with the grandkids, and even log into Canva without tears.
But dieting and rational eating habits? That’s a whole different battlefield!
Of course, I can lose weight! Two years ago, I dropped four kilos in just a few days and kept them off for over a year.
Back then, I started quite sensibly — a three-day fast, followed by a smooth transition into keto.
The “WOW” effect showed up in week two, and I wasn’t even hungry. I felt energized, light, and unstoppable.
Oh, the pure joy when my favorite jeans and tops got to experience a “second youth” right alongside me!
I felt free, weightless, fantastic!
I used to stroll past croissants with an air of superiority, and they sat quietly on the bakery shelf, powerless to tempt me.
Those days are long gone. Croissants no longer stay quiet.
Now they tease me, flirt with me… and shamelessly call my name — especially when I pop into the bakery before the grand family invasion of kids and grandkids.
Recently, though, I’ve been having these interesting states of consciousness regarding my decisions about reducing… well, let’s be honest — my calorie surplus.
Day One. The Heroic Beginning
The alarm rings. 8 a.m. Time to rise and shine.
My morning stretch on the yoga mat is now a sacred ritual.
I look in the mirror and promise myself:
“From today: no sweets, no carbs. Fasting! The Rodzeń brothers would be so proud!”
Two hours later, I’m wandering around the house as if looking for yesterday.
Deep down, I can feel the familiar dread creeping in…
Memories of past fasting disasters come rushing back.
By 11 a.m., I’m already picturing the migraine that will, without a doubt, explode inside my head any minute now — just like last time.
So, being the reasonable woman I am, I decide to tweak my diet strategy:
“Okay, maybe not a full-on fast… It’ll be safer to start with keto — especially since I’ve been practicing intermittent fasting for a week and already have some tiny victories! Jumping straight into fasting sounds a little extreme. Better to start keto and keep something in my stomach.”
By noon, two eggs and crispy bacon hit the frying pan.
I sip my coffee enhanced with a spoonful of coconut oil and pretend it tastes amazing.
Soon after, as I’m loading the dishwasher, I realize I still feel… unsatisfied.
I reach for an avocado — after all, on keto, avocados are practically sacred.
1 p.m. – The First Dilemmas
Around 1 p.m., my childhood friend drops by for coffee.
She shows up at the door carrying a box full of éclairs and other sinful little pastries.
It’s been ages since we last met, so clearly, this is the perfect occasion to… indulge a little.
But no, I stand my ground:
“Not today! I’m strong!”
And then, as I pour the coffee, my eye catches a lonely croissant left over from yesterday.
It’s a little dry, which, of course, my brain instantly interprets as:
“It’s no longer a pastry. It’s basically a grain product. Practically healthy!”
I’ll just tear off a tiny piece so it doesn’t go to waste.
I convince myself this is my new method of easing into keto — step by step.
I forgive myself instantly, and a new “diet strategy” takes shape in my head:
I’ll start by reducing calories, not slashing them dramatically.
Yes, today I’m beginning with a low-carb diet, and I’ll ease into full keto later.
Perfect logic, perfect comfort. Subtle difference, massive relief!
3 p.m. – Reality Hits Back
My friend leaves, I throw on my jeans, grab my backpack, and head out to help my parents with shopping and dinner prep.
Meanwhile, hunger is growing, traffic is a nightmare, and stress levels are rising.
I stop at my favorite BP station to refuel and… there it is.
The Moment.
On the counter lies HIM.
The Croissant.
Golden, buttery, warm, flaky perfection.
Calling my name in stereo surround sound.
And right next to it — a promotion on caramel latte with foam. The universe is testing me.
My inner dialogue goes something like this:
– “Izabela, you can’t.”
– “But it’s just one croissant.”
– “And keto?”
– “Croissants are buttery. Butter equals fat. Fat is keto-approved!”
Logic: 10/10.
Willpower: 0/10.
I leave the station with a caramel latte, the croissant… and two brown sugars, because black coffee is basically punishment.
Evening. The Grand Finale (and Tomorrow’s Motivation)
I get home late, exhausted after a long, demanding day.
All I want is to curl up on my leather sofa with a hot cup of lemon tea.
The TV’s on, the cozy blanket’s ready, and Mirek is hunting for a comedy to help me unwind.
But somehow, I end up in the kitchen.
The fridge is covered in magnets from our travels…
They don’t just decorate the door — they pull me in like a tractor beam.
Before I know it, I’m opening and closing the fridge repeatedly, looking for something… anything.
What exactly? I have no clue. Maybe yesterday’s willpower.
Mirek glances at me and delivers his favorite line:
“Close the fridge, woman, or we’ll lose all the cold!” 😅
Frustration kicks in, and I launch into a dramatic monologue about the cruel absence of chocolate ice cream in our house!
He tries to talk me down, but my puppy eyes win, as always.
He puts on his sneakers, takes pity on my late-night craving, and heads to the store.
Fifteen minutes later, I’m happily seated with a spoon in one hand and a tub of chocolate ice cream in the other.
Peace restored. Balance achieved.
And as I polish off the first spoonful, I start planning my brand-new diet strategy… naturally, for tomorrow.
Summary
That’s what my “weight loss journey” looks like these days, in a nutshell:
Plan — ambitious.
Execution — creative.
Result — croissants, caramel coffee, and chocolate ice cream before bed.
And tomorrow?
Tomorrow, of course, I start my diet. Absolutely. 100 percent.
Unless… my friend drops by again. 😉
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