Flour Power.

So, because of the wedding, and, specifically, because of the wedding pictures, I've been working with a personal trainer for the past eight months.  For three hours a week I subject myself to excruciatingly hard work and pain.  The result of this masochism?  I've actually gained about 15 pounds.  I'm sure it's mainly comprised of muscle, but it still sucks.  And it's frustrating.  I've been working so hard, and getting so much stronger; I would have liked some change in how my jeans fit.

So, I expressed this to my personal trainer yesterday.  And we chatted a bit about potential symptoms... do I feel bloaty, how are my joints, what do I usually eat... and (insert the guttural wail here) he thinks I might be allergic to gluten.  (Noooooooooooooooo!  All my best friends are made of wheat!  Sweet whole wheat pasta!  My darling bruschetta on fluffy French bread!  Not my whole wheat buttermilk pancakes!)

This is a terribly sad day.  And not just because I adore gluten.  (If I weren't marrying Matt I would consider  proposing to gluten.  I love gluten so much that I keep it locked up in my closet in a cage so that I can love gluten whenever I want to, whether gluten wants to be loved or not.)  It's also really frustrating.  Why could I not have figured this out a couple of months ago so that I could have dropped the extra weight before the wedding?

I hate being one of those girls who prattles on about her weight, but the truth is I kind of am one.  It's been something I think about at least three times a day every day since I was 10 years old.  To think that something that I love so much (Scrumptious whole grain grilled cheese sandwiches!) could potentially be a large part of what has caused me so much pain over the years, not to be melodramatic about it.

I'm whining now.  That's lame.

So... THE POINT...  I'm going to cut gluten out of my diet for the next two weeks until the wedding.

It's going to suck.

(Multigrain Toast slathered in butter!  Oh, multigrain toast....)