Celery: (n) a cultivated plant of the parsley family
An ounce of consecration yields a pound of cure.
Every once in a while, I build up such consecration to lose weight. There are two actions that tell me I’m serious about the endeavor:
- I start quoting the calories in the food set before me, and
- I develop an almost mystical interest in celery
Yes, I literally hypnotize myself into believing it makes a great snack, and since it really has no calories, it is able to trick my body into thinking that we are dining without actually plumping.
I think my record is four days.
Yes–four glorious days when I consumed celery, acting as if it were potato chips. Then came Day 5.
It was a very simple fall from grace. It began with a statement: “You know what would be good with this celery?”
At first I showed great restraint. I merely dipped my green stalk into some low-calorie ranch dressing. But that was a little too watery and didn’t cling well. So I switched to regular ranch dressing, trying to be careful about how much I used.
After about two days, I grew tired of the taste of ranch and discovered that cheese whip was delicious on the celery. Now, I was cautious not to put too much of the goo into the provided groove. (After all, if the celery did not want me to have a condiment with it, why did it make that slot?)
By Day 10, I discovered that the most excellent filler was peanut butter.
Peanut butter and celery.
My God, I felt righteous! I had the “no calories” of celery mingled with the protein of peanut butter, which would certainly counteract all the fat included.
Imagine how discouraged I was, after a week, to realize that I had gained weight on celery and peanut butter.
Celery is a trickster. It offers great promise, but has no ability to fulfill unless it brings along its blubbery friends.