This morning the scale read 184.? I can't remember the last digit, but it really doesn't matter. My weight is up yet again. This time, however, I know why. I ate at the church picnic yesterday.
In the interest of full disclosure - I ate a hamburger on a white bread bun with mustard & pickles. I'm fairly certain that the beef was not grass fed, nor low fat. It was bought in bulk and generally those are not the high quality stuff we want in our diets. I ate 10 or 12 sun chips, a spoonful of baked beans with real bacon, a spice cookie and a brownie. I also drank one bottle of water and two coke zeros.
I could try to reframe this in to a positive in that I ate far smaller portions than I have in the past. I selected sun chips thinking they were a better choice than regular chips and I only ate two desserts. While all that is true and indicates a positive change, I would be deluding myself if I stopped at that. I've been in situations where all the choices were 'bad' as they were yesterday and I've not eaten. I've brought my own food. I could have easily done that yesterday, but I did not. I was throwing a bit of a temper tantrum.
I'm tired and grumpy. Sharon knows me better than I know myself. Her comment yesterday was spot on. I'm mad that this is going to have to last the rest of my life. There is no finish line. Even when I get to my goal, I will have to be diligent with each and every meal. When I look at it with my calm, rational, grown up brain, that is no big deal. Most days, what I eat is nothing spectacular. It wasn't when I wasn't dieting either. It was poor quality and too much, but it was nothing to write home about. I have no idea what I ate 3 years ago today. There are very few meals that stick out in my mind, so why am I pouting like a toddler about what I won't be able to eat years from now? It is part of the mental process, I suppose.
I'm up 7 pounds in a week. There is no excuse for that, not hormones, not crazy schedule, nothing. Now, I'm having to deal with the consequences of my choices. Before, I've been able to honestly say that I'm back on track and ready to get back with the program. Now, I'm feeling a little fragile. I want to get back on track and move forward with the program, but I'm doubting myself. How many times can I fall down & get back up? As many times as it takes to get to my goal, but falling hurts. I need to figure out why I'm falling so much, so I can stop.
I know one reason - someone told me yesterday if I lost any more weight, I'd look old. I'll blog about that tomorrow.
I Need To
2 weeks ago