…it’s not going to work. I had a pretty disappointing weigh in yesterday. For some reason I jumped .8 pounds from Tuesday to Wednesday. I was feeling sick on Tuesday night and went to bed at 8:00, after having Wendy’s for dinner. I had a large chili with four saltines, a side salad with 2T light ranch and exactly 10 of Jeff’s fries. I was still hungry and unsatisfied after dinner, so I had some nonfat Greek yogurt mixed with canned pumpkin for dessert. I then promptly fell asleep and didn’t wake up until 6:30 a.m.
On Tuesday morning I weight 199.2. I guess the combination of high-sodium fast food and no workout led the scale to read an even 200 on Wednesday morning. I was pissed, but that’s was still a pound less than last week, so I figured I’d be okay at my weigh in. However, I was on a different scale than last time, and it obviously weighs a little heavier because, after my weight registered, the older lady behind the counter said, “You’re up .2, honey.”
Is anyone else familiar with this feeling? Standing on the Weight Watchers scale, nervous because you didn’t have the best week, exhaling all the air out of your lungs in case oxygen somehow affects that number? I hate feeling uncertain about my progress, and I dread the little pep talk they try to give you if you’re up, even by .2 pounds.
I wanted to protest, tell her I weighed myself this morning and there’s no way I’ve gained since then since all I’ve had is a cup of coffee and seven almonds. But then I thought back. Have I been tracking every day? Not really. Have I been measuring all my portions? Definitely not. Did I have too much alcohol? Probably. Did I get in all my workouts? No.
Did I deserve to see a loss? Not really!
I am so sick of that feeling. I feel hopeless and scared that I won’t be able to lose any weight. My initial goal is to lose 5% of my body weight, or 10 pounds. I want to meet this goal desperately. I’ve been stuck around 200 for literally YEARS. I don’t have any concept of what it’s like to weigh under 190 anymore. I won’t feel like any progress is happening until I achieve a loss that matters to me.
I fought tears for the first 15 minutes of my meeting, then I got over it and resolved to keep going. A woman in our group made lifetime yesterday, and in the process of congratulating her, the leader made a comment about maintenance. She said her advice to the woman was to keep going to meetings and stay on the program just like she did before, only eating maintenance-level calories. She emphasized the importance of coming to a meeting every week. I chimed in with a comment: “I’ve decided that, loss or gain, I’m coming every single week. I finally realized that if I just keep going, there’s no way I can’t fail. The only way I’ll fail is by giving up.” Saying those words aloud to a group of strangers really made something click inside me. Tears sprang to my eyes and I felt a wave of relief come over me.
This week I’m going to do the work. I’ve been half-assing the program as always, and I’m getting half-ass results. A colleague and I were discussing weight last night at our company’s 2010 kickoff party. I was talking about maintaining this undesirable weight for so long, and how I felt like nothing has worked to help me get the weight off. She said that this weight is my body’s set point. My body does NOT want to move from this number, so I have to do something really different to shake it up in order to see a loss.
I know exercise is the missing link. Hard, intense exercise. I’m going to do the work until I reach my goal, then keep going until I reach the next one. I didn’t fully accept it until I said it aloud: If I don’t quit, I will never fail.