I will readily admit that I went through an ephedrine phase, by way of Xenadrine. After the FDA decided that ephedra is terrible on the system and Xenadrine did away with it, they tried to claim that the new stuff was the same as the old stuff. It so wasn’t.
(side note: I also went through other poor dieting phases, that my mother would die if she knew about. And it’s not me not being honest, because if you were to ask me I’d be like “hell yes”, but for right now, use your imagination as to exactly what ‘other poor dieting phases’ are. I’m sure your imagination will lead you to the proper conclusions)
Ok, it’s not like I had nor have serious weight problems or anything like that. And it takes months for it to be noticeable that I’ve gained or lost weight, because I’m tall enough and in proportion, but yes I did go the ‘drug’ route to lose weight. And holy hell I lost a lot of it. At the same time, Peg had jumped on the Atkins bandwagon. For years with her working and Garrett and I have multiple activities, dinners consisted of Burger King and McDonalds. I was eating Big Macs at the tender age of 5 (but I was such an adorable chubby little girl).
Growing up it’s not like I was inactive and just sat around watching TV all day. I did ballet, tap, jazz, cheerleading, soccer, threw shot put and discus and some running. When I came to AU instead of gaining 15-20lbs, I lost 15. Awesome. I was the girl that was at the gym every day at 6:30 AM. The next fall, around Thanksgiving of my Sophomore year, I started taking Xenadrine. That shit made me so ill that I didn’t want to eat. And when I did eat, my meals consisted of a veggie burger and cantaloupe and an excessive amount of OJ (the calcium fortified kind, thank you very much).
The whole take Xenadrine, feel like shit, plan worked out nicely; with a lovely 60lbs weight loss, after which I was told that I look anorexic. Even Peg was a little shocked that I had lost more weight than she had even though we started at the same time (ahem, that’s what getting up at 6 AM for the gym gets you). Oh wait, see that weight loss high, I was just on? Yup, gone. I think that I’ve managed to gain well over half of it back.
But let’s face it, I stopped paying attention. Nicole Ritchie can pull off the anorexic look, I can’t. Nicole Ritchie has also never worked on a campaign, in which all you do is eat, worry, work, then eat some more. Then four months in Spain, although I did lose 10lbs there, I gained it all right back upon setting foot in Dulles (I’ve been deprived of Chipotle for four months, I deserve to have it twice a week for a month. Asshole.)
There was a time, when I actually cared and worried. I go to the gym, I do yoga, I’m not just sitting around doing nothing. And hell yes, I’m going to eat. I will have potatoes for breakfast, maybe even a breakfast sandwich on a biscuit; hell, throw in pizza with eggplant parmagiana and linguine with pesto ON TOP of pizza crust. I don’t care.
Just remind me to wake up and go for that run in the morning. Damn.