I have good news and bad news on the Weight Watcher front. Since RT in April, I’ve pretty much been hovering up and down 2 pounds.
The bad news: I’ve been gaining and losing the same 2 pounds. Only this past week did I edge slightly deeper into VFT (virgin fat territory). I’ve been *this close* to losing 80 pounds for weeks now.
The good news: that’s well over a month of maintenance.
See, one of the huge reasons I’ve bailed on diets before is this exact phase. I get tired of the ups and downs without a steady downward trend. I start feeling sorry for myself. “Gee, I’m working so hard. It’s not fair. Whines. I didn’t eat this or that and the scale is stilllllll up, so I should definitely polish off that bag of chips in the pantry.”
I get in a rut. I’m tired of tracking. For seemingly “valid” reasons (RT travel, Lady Blackmyre’s whip), I can’t get my normal exercise routine in. I’m stressed out (That Man’s job situation). Maybe we eat out a little more because of traveling (Mother’s Day trips). I might overeat a little at birthday celebrations (mine in May, Littlest in June, That Man’s in July).
I’m sick. I’m tired. I’m sick AND tired. I’ve got a release out. The kids are out of school. That Man’s out of a job. Ahhhhhh! *runs away tearing out my hair*
Once you’re derailed, it’s really really hard to get back on track. Danger, Will Robinson! Here be Dragons!
The good news this time around is that I’ve basically been practicing maintnenance. I haven’t gained more than 2 pounds, which I immediately lost over the next two weeks. I’ve not blackslid into poor eating. While I did indulge at Mythos for my birthday and a patty melt and fries (my all-time favorite) once at Smith’s, I’ve always gotten back on track the very next meal.
My usual breakfast. My normal veggie side dishes and homemade dressings. My faithful snacks of fruit and protein and healthy oils.
My smallest jeans still fit. My favorite jeans are still too big. I keep putting them in the sell pile and then pulling them on “one last time” even though I know they’ll stretch out and drive me nuts because I’ll be hauling them up all day.
Maybe it’s wisdom in my old age but I’ve come to realize these periods are not failures. In some ways, they’re necessities. This is time for my body to adjust to a new weight. Maybe it’s all in my head, but I really think it gives my skin time to shrink in and adjust to my smaller body. I feel tighter and smaller, even if the scale doesn’t budge…ESPECIALLY if I get my Power 90 routine in. (I’m working on it – I’m hoping to log a steady 5 weeks while That Man is training for his new job.)
If I’m bored with food, then that gives me a reason to research new menu options. I pulled out my old WW cookbooks.
If I’m bored with my clothes, then I try on my drawer things for new inspiration. By the way, I wore my first pair of shorts in at least ten years last weekend on a family trip to Silver Dollar City. Small children did not run in horror at my deathly white cellulite that still lingers.
It’s just like writing (or any other Hero’s Journey). Some days the traveling is joyous and easy and exhilarating. I can’t wait to get up in the morning to see what new low the scale has given me.
Other days it’s a struggle to even get out of bed and trudge in there to see what that lying cheating box of metal is going to shovel on me today. I don’t wanna exercise. I can’t gag down one more bowl of yogurt for breakfast. I want chips, damn it. Or homemade bread!
But if I stick to the path, eventually these periods of Inner Cave and Dark Moments will pass. I will only contine my journey by passing through these moments of boredom and fear and laziness. There is light at the end of the tunnel. If I do the right things and eat the right foods, the hateful lying scale will eventually be forced to cooperate.
I can’t use the cave as an excuse to leave the journey entirely. In some ways, this phase is more MENTAL than physical. I have to let my mind adjust as much as my thinner body.
So the journey continues.