Seven Pounds

Hi. Long time, no see.

Sorry for the radio silence. It's been a busy week.

But, a good one.

Until last night, anyway.

We had to weigh in last night.

It was the first weigh-in in about 3 months...and it was BRUTAL.

I have not been doing well eating-wise and I could definitely be doing better with exercise.

I'm sad to say that I have all but fallen off the wagon these past few weeks, and that makes me really sad. We all know and love people who have lost a bunch of weight only to put it right back on - heck, I am that person. I have ridden the weight loss roller coaster pretty much my whole dang life.

However, unlike so many times before, this minor set-back doesn't mean that it's time for me to throw in the towel. I have such a good thing going and I would be absolutely crazy to give this up. I have an outstanding trainer. (Sure, most days he is not my favorite person, but that's because he's a great trainer. If I liked him all the time, he wouldn't be pushing me hard enough).

I also have the best workout team on the planet. These girls are so supportive and motivating.

Yes, we enable each other in our bad habits a little too much, but we are putting an end to this. No more, "Oh, we can have a Blizzard. It's Crystal's birthday!" or "Man, work is so stressful, let's have some doughnuts and Cheetos!"

We don't do this often, but food rewards are now a thing of the past.

(Yes, I am fully aware that I am saying this at 10:45 pm the night before Thanksgiving, but no more eating with reckless abandon - NO MORE!)

I ate super well today. And, guess what? I feel great! It is so amazing the difference good food makes in how I feel.

Put good in, get good out.

It's definitely not rocket science but it is so easy for me to ignore the truth and go for instant gratification.

It is a battle I am going to face every single day of my life.

I love bad food so very much.

I went to lunch with a friend today and, in between bites of our delicious salads and sips of cool, refreshing ice water, we talked about how much we love french fries.

I really, really do.

If I could eat them every single day with no bad consequences, I for sure would.

I'm from Idaho and I love potatoes in all forms...most especially fried. (I'm not really sure that there was a point to that confession, but there you go. Just an FYI, I guess).

However, I digress. 

If you can't tell by the title of this post, last night's weigh-in did not go well for me - or anyone else, for that matter.

I unwillingly dragged myself to the scale in the corner of the gym when Mike summoned me. I knew this would not turn out well. Mike was not pleased but I did not need to see his look of disappointment to know that I need to make some changes.

Or, maybe I did. Accountability is huge. It is definitely a game-changer, at least for me. For some frustrating reason, I am not strong enough to make these changes on my own. I need someone who cares and who holds me accountable for every pound I do or do not lose and pushes me harder than I could ever push myself.

So, yeah, I have gained 7 freaking pounds since the last weigh-in. I am so frustrated with myself. I know that this doesn't mean that I have failed and should just give up, good effort, just go back to your fat girl ways, but it's hard not to be discouraged.


However, I know that I can still do this. I can will get back up, work hard and reach my ultimate goals.


Self-image is an interesting thing. At one point in this journey (just a few weeks ago), I had lost 62 pounds. That is not a little bit of weight. That is a substantial amount and I am pretty proud of that. I have gained (only) 7 of those pounds back. I am not proud of that, by any means, but I am a far cry from where I was 9 months ago.


However, this little voice in my head keeps telling me that I have failed. "Give up," it says. "You gave it your best shot but this just isn't for you. Go drown your sorrows in ice cream. Being the fat girl wasn't really that bad. Besides, you love french fries. They make you happy. You deserve to have them more!"


And, it's not just that little voice. My eyes are being mean too. All I see when I look in the mirror is a fat girl. Just a couple of weeks ago, I didn't run away from being in pictures because I had finally reached the point where I felt like I looked okay. I am still a ways from my ultimate weight-loss goal, but I was excited about my progress.


Funny how 7 little pounds has changed that.


I feel like Martin Short in Pure Luck when he got stung by a bee:

I got this image here.

Some days, this is honestly what I see:

This is not a real picture. I used a Make Me Fat app.

I am not sharing these feelings to get sympathy or praise. I am just working through some self doubts and frustrations and, maybe, if anyone else is feeling discouraged and huge, my struggles can help.

I definitely don't have it all figured out but I am getting better at finding ways to push that little voice of discouragement aside and focus on the progress I have made - and will continue to make. 

(Unfortunately, I did not miraculously grow long, flowing locks. I'm wearing extensions in this picture).

Yes, gaining 7 pounds is frustrating, but it's not the end of the world.

Neither is 20, 40, 1oo pounds.

Get up, dust yourself off and get moving.

That's what I'll be doing, starting right this second. 

p.s. guess how many sit-ups Mike made me do last night?!

Just guess!

400!!

Did you hear me? 400! My abs are on fire!

Coughing, laughing, sneezing and just sitting up are going to be rough for a couple of days.