Another pound gone. That’s two weeks, five pounds, 28 pills, six trainer sessions and 14 days of pure starvation. This is one of the hardest tests of willpower I’ve ever had to experience. We’re not just talking about abstaining from McD’s French fries (which I did in ’09) but withdrawing from every type of food I’ve grown to love for decades. Bye bye pasta, Chinese food, breakfast potatoes, brownie sundaes. Sniff Sniff. I miss you dearly. I look in the mirror and don’t really notice a change. Ryan hasn’t said anything either. But my clothes do fit better. Does that mean I’m meant to be 115? I haven’t seen 115 since college. And, hell, what will become of this ‘test’ as we roll into Thanksgiving?

Sage and I are off to San Diego in the morning to share the holiday with my parents. My parents who eat out four nights a week, cook with tons of butter, fancy themselves amateur sommeliers and stock their pantry with chocolate covered pretzels and Oreos. Jeff the trainer says I can “sample” everything and that keeping to the plan is about portion control. Fingers crossed I don’t come back with those five pounds I lost!

Two more weeks and I’m done. The goal is to weigh 110 and sport 16 percent body fat. I’ve learned a ton about my diet but I don’t think I’ll stick with this one. Especially not in the winter. I’ll be way more active skiing than I have the past three months with the broken foot so I’m hoping it’ll even out. I better not blimp out like Violet Beauregarde in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory when I start to add carbs back into my diet. Just saying….

I went to bed hungry. After dropping Sage off this morning, however, all I had eaten was a banana. It dawned on me. We have no food in the house I’m allowed to eat. You want carbs and processed sugars? Come see me. Raw nuts, Greek yogurt, fresh fruits and veggies? I had to make a run to Park City Market pronto.

Fifty Five dollars later I had food for the week. Healthy food is unhealthy for my wallet. I got home, tossed back a few raw nuts, cooked up all chicken breasts for the fridge, boiled the hard-boiled eggs and made myself a half a turkey sandwich. I could only eat about ¾ of it before feeling full. It’s just not the same without chips or French fries.

I took my pill, did some house stuff then headed out for my first workout. First in three months since wrecking my foot and first on this trial. I was nervous. We did a five-minute warm-up on the elliptical and moved to the machines- chest press, front rows, dumbbell curls, skull crushers, inverted crunches, three sets starting with 15 reps and going to fail. We wrapped it all up with a 30- minute-interval sesh on the elliptical. Not only did I survive but the foot never bothered me. She’s back! We’ll meet again on Friday and Saturday.

Dinner? A teeny weeny WOW bar, Greek yogurt and an apple. Yes, I’m going to bed hungry again.

Oh Wow. I think I just had my first, and last, conformation dog show. What was I thinking? The experience was beyond humiliating. In fact, I was borderline tears more than once. It wasn’t the people there; or the judges. It was the scene. I was so out of my league and clueless; and, of course, it showed. Maybe if I was 8 like a few of the girls handling their Aussies, it would have been a different day altogether.

Two days ago I got wind of an ASCA dog show in Murray Park. I figured what the hell? For 10 bucks I could have a judge look over Takoda and tell me what kind of aesthetic shape he was in. I didn’t know that it would be as much about me as the dog. I had to borrow a collar and leash (I’ve never ever used what they had); someone trimmed up his ears and rear for me; another nice woman gave him a quick brush; I happened to have a Lickety Stick in the car so at least I wasn’t begging for cheese bits as well.

All of the ladies there were super and I got a crash course in conformation handling. I’m betting this is something you and the dog can’t learn in an hour?

We quickly taught him to stand instead of sit in front of me (which is what he does for obedience) but I neglected to learn what I was supposed to do in the ring. Apparently you always stay behind the other dogs even if one stops or goes off course. I trotted past and was ordered to get back in line.

You don’t run, you walk fast to get your dog to trot alongside of you. I looked like I was running.

When the time came to go up against two other male pups, Takoda did decently for his first time and I sucked bigger than a teenager getting a helium hit. I struggled to keep him standing. At the end, he placed third- out of three.

I did ask the judge for feedback which was the whole reason I chose to do this in the first place. He said, “An experienced handler can make a new dog look like a champ. An inexperienced handler can make a champ look like a [loser].” I was that inexperienced handler. L Did I mention that I was in jeans and everyone else was dressed for a corporate job interview?

To his credit, the only thing the judge saw as a negative was that my dog’s chest wasn’t as “full” as it could be; but he said it wasn’t a dealbreaker. So I guess Takoda could be a contender if I wanted him to be. I don’t. We’re going to work on obedience, rally and agility instead. Perhaps I won’t feel like such a complete loser.