Day one
I started the week determined to be good, to follow the diet even down to the daily water lake. Did I mention that you're supposed to drink a gallon of water a day? Day one went well. Breakfast of porridge and random protein was fine and I made a lovely antipasto of roasted peppers and tomatoes with chargrilled aubergine and chicken breast for lunch. Sadly, it took over an hour to eat because there was so much of it. I really enjoyed supper, because my husband and I ate together for once and we had our kind of food, which only had to be adapted slightly for the Zone. After, I realised that I'd probably had too much protein and my husband not enough.
Day two
Had a slice of toast for breakfast and it was manna from heaven. Unfortunately I then had to eat cottage cheese, some fruit and nuts, but, hell, the toast was good. Lunch was a huge chicken and avocado salad with some melon. Snack of more boring cottage cheese, but the end of the pot is in sight. Supper was spicy chicken strips, a slice of toast and a satsuma. For once I wanted my late-night snack.
Day three
It began well. I found a cute way to use up cottage cheese and tofu - tuna and herb paté - and I had a very posh snack: antipasto, feta and olives. Things changed in the evening. I cannot drink on this bloody diet. Okay, that may not be news, if you read last week's diary… apparently I go from being happy and jolly to tetchy and touchy in a blink or, more accurately, in a glass. My poor husband is suffering. After two glasses of wine I had to work hard to muster the gumption to face food and I wish I hadn't bothered. Tuna paté and raw cauliflower isn't anything to write home about.
Day four
A double veggie cheeseburger in a single slice of bread for breakfast never tasted so good. I've been working really long and hard for the last two weeks and have reached the end of my energy. Glugged huge skimmed-milk lattes - no doubt that's breaking the rules, because there are carbs and protein in milk. Don't care, I'm knackered and that's probably why I'm so miserable on this plan. I'm weepy and fed up with the added work the Zone requires. It all seems a tremendous effort.
Day five
I take it back. My scales may not be co-operating, but my clothes are definitely looser. I feel better about the way I look, even if I don't much appreciate the way I feel. If I let myself have a slice of toast for breakfast, it takes me ages to get round to the rest of it: the protein, the inevitable nuts, fruit. I ran out of nice Zone-friendly items, so my meal combinations were suffering. I popped out for some fruit and couldn't resist a wrap sandwich. Was horrified to discover I'd had something like two meals' worth of carbs in a hit. Compensated by having only tofu for supper. No one should ever be subjected to such punishment.
Day six
A breakthrough. I watched my husband eat chips without giving in to temptation. And I only had one piece of baguette with my tuna salad. We had to leave the café before the triple-chocolate-cookie urge overcame me. I'm so brainwashed by this damn diet that I spent another fortune at the supermarket before I realised I only have one more week in the sodding Zone.
Day seven
The week ended on a high note - well, two. The first was a really enjoyable supper. Okay, so Peking duck makes no appearance in the Zone, but I thought it wouldn't matter much, as I roasted it on a rack so the fat dripped away, I don't eat skin and I replaced the pancakes with lettuce leaves, which works surprisingly well and is one way of getting ludicrously generous salad portions without too much pain. The second? I've lost nearly half a stone in three weeks.
