If my life was an episode on MTV right now, it would look a little bit like this: I hear a knock at the door, and wishfully thinking it's the Seamless delivery man with a surprise or my famous downstairs neighbor, I open it a crack. An entire camera crew rushes in, complete with booms and mics and PAs with walkie talkies, as I stand there confused with dripping wet hair in a vintage Bears t-shirt, Gap Body underwear and no pants.
Considering the only screen my face has been near is the one on my iPhone that's full of greasy residue, the likelihood of the above is (thankfully) unbelievably low. But, production crew, bitch-faced Made coach and daily diary graphics aside, I'm attempting to do the impossible within the next 15 days: lose as much weight as possible without changing how I eat. And, let me remind you, this is how I eat.
I started today. Day one. I jumped up and down on a step until I almost burst into tears; I did things with my lower abs that I thought were reserved for sexual positions I'm too lazy for. It's going to be horrible, it's going to be terrible and my back will most definitely go out, but the promise of conquering the culinary wonders of Paris over one full week is enough to keep me doing one-armed plank pushups in a room full of gorgeous ripped gay men until Memorial Day.
Even still, as much as I want to burn all of my sports bras in a feminist exercise protest, I (stubbornly as usual) refuse to change any way in which I eat. Sure, a Momofuku tasting menu, whole pig dinner and trip back to Perla over the next two weeks aren't the best stops on the road to getting fit quick. The promise of being able to button my pants throughout an entire week of foreign binge eating won't stop me from eating at a chef's table, but will force me to walk my ass to the gym more than I'd prefer, since I'm basically sweating out future earnings on baguettes each time I go.
Don't be surprised if my Instagram feed is photos of me elbow-deep in a wheel of brie in the middle of a park at 11am the first day I get there, because a land full of cheese, wine and restaurants like this is the only thing I'll be thinking of while suffering and sweating on a bike all month long.