Wednesday, May 28, 2014

And so it begins...

 

Today I stepped on the scale, saw the number and thought nothing of it.  I'm not yet to a place where I am counting down those last few pounds and know exactly how much I weigh.  Far from it.  Really far from it.  The nice Weight Watchers lady tapped on her computer and said to me, "you're up 0.6lbs, were you expecting that?"

Was I expecting that?

I paused before answering, "no."  I say "no," because the question she is really asking is, "did you not follow the plan or did you cheat a bit too much at graduation/Memorial day parties and so you expected to gain weight?"  The answer to that is a resounding, "no!"

I went to the rabbit show all weekend but I chose the baked chicken breast salad at McAlistor's when we ate out, using less than 1/2 of the dressing.  I ate some of the concession's pulled pork (just pork roast baked in a slow cooker, I know, we did the concessions) on a salad with some added bbq, not nachos w/cheese goo and pork and all the rest.  I ate a total of 2 potato chips.  Not 2 servings, not 2 handfuls, 2 actual chips.  The rest of the time I ate what I had packed.  I carefully tracked and logged every single thing I ate all week long.  Yes, all of it.  I did not exceed my daily or weekly allotment, in fact, had left over weekly "points," the Weight Watcher's food counting mechanism.

So, no, I didn't do anything "wrong" that would have led to weight gain.

And yet, I am not surprised.

Because the real answer to "were you expecting that?" is "yes."  I expect to do everything right and fail.  Is this a horrible failure? No.  Is it somehow my fault? Probably not.  Am I disappointed? Most definitely.

You see, I was expecting that, just not so soon.  I thought maybe I could go a few more weeks, or maybe, maybe even a month or two before I saw that backslide that my body does to me.  I wanted more than one success before failure.

This is when I must persevere.  I can't throw in the towel yet.  I must plod along, doing what I know I should, and hope that things will get better.  Hope that this time I won't plateau at an 8lb weight loss and be unable to move forward no matter what I do, no matter what I eat, no matter what supplement the doctor suggests.  I will keep going and going and some day, some day, things will work out.

I must believe that so I will.

1 comments:

Deanna said...

Okay, speaking of comments, I've been meaning to leave you one here. First of all, I am incredibly proud of you and I plan on being your biggest virtual cheerleader. Secondly, you may or may not know my sister lost 90 pounds with weight watchers 5 years ago and she has kept it off. She continues to fight that last 10 pounds in what I would refer to as an EPIC battle of beer and wills. Thirdly, due to her experiences I would say that I am somewhat versed in the ways of Weight Watchers, which is not to say I am an expert at all. I am a great cheerleader though. (Except that I tried out to be a cheerleader and didn't make the team because I am so clumsy. Also, if I had been a cheerleader, I probably would have become a giant slut. So, my vagina (and probably my husband) are really happy I was not an official cheerleader. Those things being said, today's encouragement is: Perservere. (Fuck. I can't seem to spell persevere). Okay, seriously. Anyway, another thing my sister said, and this may annoy you, I'm sorry. Is that the only way she really lost weight was exercise. She could not use her exercise points, but she still had to exercise. That was the formula that finally worked. Does that make sense? So, as sucky and awful as that sounds, you have to do more with less points. Anyway. I'll try to piss you off again soon through my attempts to cheer you on, because I am seriously rooting for you. Even if I leave wildly long and annoying remarks on your blog, filled with curse words.

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