It’s been a little over a week since I got back from Boracay, and since my return, I’ve lost over six pounds I certainly didn’t need to lose from simply not having access to the obscene amounts of gourmet vegetarian food that were available during my toga teacher training.
This can be the only plausible explanation because not much else has actually changed. I’m doing the same kind of yoga I did for the past month for the same length of time, I’m eating the same number of meals, and I’m sleeping the same number of hours. But to lose nearly seven pounds over just four days is something that simply can’t be dismissed as a mere water weight loss or weighing scale fluctuation. Clearly, something is amiss, or at the very least, afoot, and it could simply be withdrawal symptoms from being denied Miss Pebbles’ cooking.
And if my favored explanation should turn out to be right, then it should hopefully correct the extremely popular yet vastly erroneous notion that vegetarian food necessarily makes one skinny. Frequent reminders to my worrying mother that “there is no such thing as a skinny cow, elephant or panda” have never quite worked, even if, at the end of the day, it’s not just what you eat but how much of it you eat that counts. Because if you’re a vegetarian but eating a dozen fried samosas for breakfast every day, then pigs will fly—and with a Boeing 787 Dreamliner too—before you’ll ever start losing weight.
And while I’m not trying to get any skinnier, I’m not complaining about the weight loss either. When you’re engaging in a form of physical activity that routinely requires you to carry your weight, then having a little less mass to lift does make a bit of a difference. I only (fervently) hope that any future reductions will come from someplace else besides my already depleted chest region.