So, here's the story. I weigh 210 pounds. I am at least 40 pounds overweight. I have hypothyroid and a never ending candy dish at work. I love beer and my husband is from the mid-west and really cooks like we still live on a farm and have manual labor to do and cold winters to face. And I love his cooking. A lot. Butter? Yes please. Bacon? You bet.
But? For the most part, I eat ok. I even logged my eating habits for a week, showed them to an endocrinologist and she agreed with me. Sure, I can do better, but can't we all? And? I have a big dumb dog I walk at least twice a day and I walk all over campus twice a week and I'm generally a bit of a tweaker and don't sit still for very long. All that means is that I'm not living a sedentary lifestyle.
So since I'm pretty good and active the doctor decided to prescribe me fentramine which is basically a diet pill that suppresses hunger and gets the old metabolism going so that I'll lose about 2 pounds a week. This does not give me permission to indulge, however. It's just an aid that she only recommends for short term use.
So... I stocked up on fruits and veggies and am swearing off beer. She said red wine is best. So that's that. I go off prozac in less than two weeks and will start my diet pills then. Here goes nothing.
MORAL OF THAT STORY: I guess diet and exercise isn't always enough.