Let me ask you a question: Have you ever felt extremely guilty after eating something you “shouldn’t have” while trying to lose weight?
Believe me, I know how you feel. Like I said, I’m no different than you.
So did I quit?
Not this time. Even with my royal screw-up hanging over my head, I knew I needed to get back on track.
So I did what any good fitness pro would do: I stood up, brushed off the dirt, and got on with the plan.
Now for the really embarrassing part.
No more than a few days later, temptation decided to rear its ugly head once again, this time in the form of not one, but two large, freshly baked pizzas sitting on my kitchen table as I walked through the door from a long day at work.
Apparently, my roommates at the time didn’t much care that I was “on a diet”. Nice looking out, guys.
So I get offered a slice, and naturally (so as not to be rude, of course) I accept.
Before you knew it, that one slice turned to two, then three, and it wasn’t long before I had put the finishing touches on nearly an entire large pizza.
Can you just imagine what I’m thinking at this point?
Just in case you can’t, let me get you up to speed: I’m thinking I might as well find a new freakin’ career path because I can’t even manage to resist the same cravings I regularly tell my clients to withstand.
Talk about a humbling experience.
So you’re probably wondering, did I quit after yet another “screw-up”? Surprisingly, (even to me) I didn’t.
Believe it or not, the next day I woke up, did some cardio, and actually managed to have a pretty successful remainder of the week diet-wise.
Then, the day I had been dreading—weigh-in day—finally rolled around.
To be honest, I stepped on the scale that day for one reason: to find out just how much ground I had lost—and would therefore have to make up—over the course of that last week.
Well, I never found out that number.
No, it’s not that my fat butt broke the scale, and no, I didn’t suddenly, albeit conveniently, forget how to read.
You see, when I looked down at the scale that day, I discovered something pretty unreal—despite having just experienced the most undedicated week of my entire dietary life, I somehow managed to lose three pounds.
A simple weigh-in fluke? I’m right there with you, but get this: No more than a few seconds later I grabbed the measuring tape from the bathroom sink only to find out that my waist measurement went down a full inch to boot.
I was floored. This made absolutely no sense to me (at least at the time it didn’t; now, it makes all the sense in the world, and I’ll soon fill you in).
So what in God’s name happened?
How in the world did a week full of pizza, pasta, and pastries pull me straight out of a fat loss rut and supercharge my results way beyond what I was able to accomplish by staying “strict” with my diet for weeks beforehand?
Is there an explanation?
You better believe there is.
In fact, I’ll go as far as to say that the information I’m about to share with you will probably prove to be the biggest “ah-ha” moment you’ve ever had.
You see, if you’ve ever started a diet only to quit a few weeks later from a lack of results—if you’ve ever seemingly done everything right only to find that the scale wouldn’t reward you for your efforts—or if you’ve ever given up your favorite foods in the name of health and weight loss only to later discover that the sacrifice didn’t quite pan out, I’m here to tell you…
It’s NOT Your Fault
Simply put, “diets” can’t work.
If you tried ‘em and failed, you’re just like 99% of the rest of the world, myself included: normal.
You see, any time you restrict calories, you literally “program” your body to fight against your every effort to lose weight.