I DATED KETOSIS

Yes, the Greek goddess, you know the one, Ketosis Goddess of Weight Loss. We met on line. I had seen her around when watching my favorite weight lifting youtube channel, surfing swimming posts, and searching for nutrition related content. We were introduced properly on a website where a buff guy in a video talked about percentages of fat, carbohydrates, and protein, and held up a box of bone broth. We watched some funny videos together that made both of us I laugh. Oh, she’s noticed me.

I flirted a bit, but I was dating my on and off girlfriend EMEL (Exercise More Eat Less). I was happy. We’re not exclusive because I travel, and it’s hard to keep up when I’m away from home. Then I discovered that a friend of mine had dated Ketosis for a while and had no regrets. They ended the relationship amicably, and still see each other from time to time.

My friend said, Go ahead, date Ketosi, shes makes it worth it.  I shook off thinking what does that mean, and decided ask a Greek Goddess for a date. Whew, I was nervous. But I plucked up my courage and asked, and she said yes! Little did I know.

I thought one date and we’ll see how it goes. But the moving truck was already being unloaded. Literally, I did not see that coming. And there was Ketosis, at my side, grabbing my hand with her greasy hand, as she took me grocery shopping for the first time.

From the very of start of our time , every meal together, and they were all together, was her choice and I was disgusted. To get enough daily fat, I was eating cheese, avocados, cream cheese, and butter ad nauseam. I was cooking with olive oil, heavy cream, and coconut oil. I felt like I was eating ingredients, not meals. My life was suddenly all about Maths, specifically—percentages, grams, and milliliters. I was finding Ketosis to be high maintenance from the get go! I created a spreadsheet to ameliorate the headache of it all and hopefully find some down time. To my dismay I realized, it was a Ketosis induced headache. When confronted, she smiled warmly and offered me a pat of butter.

The headache was joined all too soon by a queasy stomach, muscle aches, sweats day and night, an inability to go to sleep, and worst of all maybe, pungent breath and tinkle (if you will). That last item required visiting the loo a gazillion times a day and drinking a gazillion glasses of water, because I was thirsty ALL THE TIME. Ketosis didn’t seem to notice any of this or if she did she kept it to herself, for the most part. In my state of tiredness there came, wait for it, constipation. With all that fat — 74% of my daily nutritional intake, you would think that things would slide right out, but no. To be fair, some of these may have been the fault of suddenly having no sugar in my diet. The only sweetness in my life was a once daily stevia laced dietary fiber supplement. Over time some issues ameliorated, butt (pun intended) this one remained.

Not only did Ketosis require massive amounts of fat when we dined, but she had aversions to things as well. In particular she forbid: rice, wheat, potatoes, sugar, fruits (It’s mango season!, I cried.), and ice cream (The hell!, I lamented.). Okay, I could have had fruit, but that would have blown my carbohydrate allowance out of the water. I take responsibility for that choice. Yes, Ketosis, Miss Ever-so-controlling, put me on daily allowances—5% carbs, 74% fat, 21% protein; always pushing me towards 80% fat. She told me I was making it harder for myself because I couldn’t go the extra step to calculate net carbs instead of total carbs. I was trying to have some limits. With a Goddess though, I never really worked that out.

Occasionally I would save up a whack of percentages and we would go out to dinner. I would have high hopes for our evening out. As you may know, dieties can have angry sides, and Ketosis was no exception. She said no to most of what I ordered— no sauces, no side dishes, no cappuccino, no carbonation, no smoothies, no rissotto, no fries, no toast or croutons, and definitely no no no to dessert, no bananas, and no crumb-coated anything. No joy in eating?, I quieried. Ketsosis emitted a haughty laugh and produced a winning smile. She is not a yes kind of date. It’s all about the no when we go out, except butter, a mini saving grace. I used to think that bread was a vehicle for butter. Ketsosis has opened my eyes. Now anything can be a vehicle for butter. And alas, I yearn for bread.

Have I told you about living together? She never did a lick of laundry or washed a pot. Everything turned greasy—measuring spoons, storage containers, pots, pans, serving bowls, chopsticks, my hands. Ketosis’ only contribution to the newly required sudsiness of my life was, I can smell your breath and, Doesn’t that running water make you want to go to the loo?

But “she did make it worth it”. After three weeks I had the opportunity to weigh myself—22 days, minus 6.2kg. I ran into her arms, my Goddess, oh my Greasy One.

After four weeks, the time came to quit her as per our agreement. But I could not. I begged for two more weeks. And I’ll beg for two more. She IS everything she promised.

EPILOGUE – We are still dating. I have learned how to organize actual meals that I mostly enjoy eating. But then I’ve learned to enjoy: peanut butter with coconut oil, straight coconut milk used for cooking over a coffee ice cube, pecans toasted in butter with a peanut butter backer, and beef cooked in oil with avocado and cheese for breakfast. My love knows no bounds.

HEALTH NOTES: My only craving has been salt. I have reigned that in. And the butter, I’ve reigned that in too. I dream of mangoes.