Disenchanted evening...

I'm taking a break from therapeutic knitting to blog. I don't want to, but I'm doing it.

Today was one of those stupid weigh-ins that people dread. The weigh-in that comes after a week of following plan TO A TEE, doing everything right, not so much as a brief culinary indiscretion, only to have a gain on the scale.

Yes, there are reasons for it. Water. Last week's loss. Whatever. None of those things provide any sort of consolation at the moment. I am pissed.

I am going to switch up the menu this week, go over my old trackers and see what I haven't been eating lately, see what's what. I already bought some fennel and carrots to roast for dinner tomorrow night, and I'll sort the rest out tomorrow.

Tonight, I'm just going to knit and try to figure things out. I need to calibrate my brain and get my shit together. I'm tired of the 270's and need to get the fuck out of 'em.

I feel like I'm in a mild nosedive and I need to pull up. I need to reclaim some sort of control. I need to keep going with that whole battle mode feeling.

Have a good week, keep your chin up.

XO
LB

Down down down

Alright alright alright, now I'm back in this thing.

This week saw another 2.6 pounds kiss my ass goodbye. It might have been more, since this was the first weigh-in in months where I wore jeans instead of my usual yoga capri pant thingers. But dudes, it was 4 degrees when I left the house this morning, and that's just a little to cool for short pants. So I took the chance on the jeans since it's going to be the status quo soon.

After last week's meltdown hissy fit, I got my focus back. That focus paid off, and I'm 1.8lbs away from hitting my 10% body weight lost mark. It may not happen next week, but I'll be good and goddamned if I don't try to clinch it.

I only made it to the gym three mornings this week. Work has been crazytown so it's work vs. overtime. Overtime wins.

But I'm here, I'm focused and I'm working at it. Still in it to win it.

Word up from the trenches, forward march.

xo
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The menu says: restart, shut down, sleep mode

Man, I've had a hard time writing this update. Another frustrating trip to the scale and one shitty week really didn't motivate me to blab on here.

It started on Tuesday when some broad in the change room at the Y asked me "how far along" I was. I honestly could have ripped her beating heart out of her chest and shown it to her. Instead, I just said "34 years, thanks for asking". The kicker came when SHE looked at ME as if I had pinched a steamin' loaf in her purse.

It's not the first time some ignorant/rude/ridiculous asshole has asked me that, but this time it did more damage than I wanted to admit. I'm working hard at this, and until then I had been feeling pretty alright about everything, except for a few low points. But not this time. It totally knocked me for six.

The rest of the week was busy, stressful, and frustrating. I didn't get to the gym as much as I wanted to, but I still stayed on plan, tracked and walked to and from work. Then I stepped on the scale and it barely moved.

Everybody now: it's a loss, not a gain...

I'm frustrated. I know it's not a race, but I'm not where I want to be 36 weeks into it. I want to be further ahead, I want that total lbs lost number to be higher. I want this fat fucking off of me.

I wish food was something I could just turn my back on. Like cigarettes or booze or anything else I don't consume anymore. I wish it was something I could walk away from and just go forward in my life. Fix what's broken and move on.

But I can't. I'm locked in a fight with the very thing that keeps me alive.

I am overwhelmed. I'm stressed. I'm annoyed. I'm cranky. I'm tired.

I need to reinstate my War Measures Act. I need to remember what it felt like to be a one woman army. I need to pull the pin and hope for the best.

We'll see what a week in the trenches brings.

xo
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another 20 seconds on the scale.

......0.4 loss.

Sigh.


No gym at all this week because the pool and change rooms were closed. But I stayed on plan, continued to walk to and from work, tracked and was well within my limits when I went to see Motorhead. So this week wasn't all for nothing. It never really is. I'm still doing this, but I admit, it's fucking FRUSTRATING at times.

Gotta focus and improve my methods.

I also gotta say this: AAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGHHHHH #^%*@##@$%#$%^^&*()))^@@#($&@&@!!!!!

That should do it.

xo
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Sixty to zero in no time flat

I was up 2 lbs at weigh-in. That didn't go over too well with me. I've been far too cranky all weekend so I decided the old "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything" attitude was the way to go.

I'm pissed, even though my meeting leader assured me that it probably has more to do with my new workout routine than anything else. It still grates on me that the number went up, I need to learn to get over that shit.

This week, the pools are closed and they're re-doing the change rooms at the Y so I'm not doing my usual early morning stuff. Everyone gets to use the family change room which has been divided down the middle for the duration. Duke it out for a locker or the shower? Fuck that. I'm taking the week off and just continuing to hoof it back and forth to work. I have two days off to go see Motorhead anyhow, so my schedule is already screwy.

So, I'm cranky and frustrated. What else is new? Seems like it's going around, especially among people trying to ditch extra pounds. But I'm still in it to win it, and I'm still with the program. That's what matters to me right now.

xo
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blah-de-blah blah blah

I forgot to blog yesterday....weird. I would have completely forgotten today had my friend Cora not nudged me with a gentle "ahem....". Thanks, MsC!

Thankfully, I was down 1.6 this week. Honestly, I was expecting a gain, so that was a nice surprise.

Forgive me, oh weight loss gods, for I didn't track this week. I'm not going to sugar coat it, I was lazy this week. Not when it came to the gym (although I missed 2 mornings because of going into work early and an early morning appointment), not when it came to the food I ate, I just wasn't into writing it down.

But still, shame on me. For as much as I tell myself that I'm in it to win it, why have I let myself slack on one of the fundamentals of the program? I need to get my shit together and get back to the accountability side of things. If I continue to not track, then it will be that much easier to fall back into bad habits, bigger portions, and the lard ass ridiculousness that got me here in the first place.

So yes, back to the tracking this week, smarten up, you.

Oh yeah, and at 6:00 a.m. on wednesday morning, I will be taking a kettle bell weight demo class. It may kill me.

My last point of business is that the comments on this blog are now screened before they appear. Nothing personal, I just get freaked out by 100% anonymous posts (in the past, I've requested that you sign your name). So yeah, feel free to comment but if there's no name, it won't be posted. My blog, my rules, dudes.

here's my parting thought: it's one thing to stand up for yourself, but it's a lot harder to stand up TO yourself.

xo
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Water is stupid. Sorry, water is STOOPID.

Yeah yeah yeah, it happens, I know. You can't help water gains blah blah blah. Keep talkin', even though I'm not really listening.

I gained weight this week. Nothing overly shocking, but it was still a gain. Honestly, I got off easy. A 2lb gain is really nothing considering I was all watery thanks to the female condition AND it's been so incredibly humid here. Some people at my meeting gained 5+lbs from the humidity alone. Welcome to a Southern Ontario summer, where the humidity boosts the heat values at least 10 degrees even at night. I walked to the gym at 6 this morning, the sun wasn't even totally up yet, and the humidex was already in the low 30's (you can do your own fahrenheit conversions, I have faith in your abilities). After 20 minutes of just walking, I walked into the Y drenched with sweat. The lady who works at the counter just kind of chuckled because I wasn't the only one arriving in that condition. I proceeded to workout and make matters worse, but it was worth it.

At the meeting this week, we talked about cravings and the management thereof. It was an interesting conversation, and I think it's something that anyone attempting to ditch some lard needs to think about. More than just cravings though, I really think it spreads into the idea of verboten food.

I've written before about how I managed to stop smoking a few years ago, and the same logic applies to food cravings. I "stopped" smoking, not "quit". The simple choice of words allowed my brain to relax. No pressure. Quitting has a finality to it that, for me, tempts failure. When I think of "quitting" smoking, I automatically think of cranky fucking people who do nothing but bitch and moan about nic fits and the injustice of it all. Oh the humanity of wanting to add time on your life and not smell like shit. Oh the unfairness of saving buckets of cash (seriously, a large pack of name brand smokes goes for $10+ around here. Jesus.) Woe is me, woe is me...

When I say that I simply "stopped" smoking, it's different. If I started again, it was no big deal. I didn't quit and then shamefully start again, smarting from the failure of not being able cut it without a smoke in my hand. Another key point was that I didn't really tell anyone I was stopping. That made a HUGE difference. I think I only told one person, and even then I had said something like "I ran out of smokes yesterday, I'm just going to see what happens if I don't buy another pack". No major proclamation of "Hear ye, hear ye one and all, Lesley Bell has quit smoking cigarettes after TWENTY LONG YEARS! Bow down...". Nope, it was my business and I was accountable to only me if I decided to light up again. Which I didn't. It will be 3 years in January and I still haven't had a nic fit. I'm not saying it won't happen, but so far so good.

What it comes down to is a choice being made, and that choice applies to cigarettes, food, whatever the problem vice may be, those just happen to be mine. Feeling deprived is a really sore point for me, I attribute it to listening to angry punk rock most of my life. I can't have something I want? Really? That's interesting. Tell me that again, but you'll have to speak up because I'm busy cracking my knuckles....

These days, I am pretty level with myself. You want a pack of smokes? Sure, go for it. There's a store on the corner that sells all kinds of 'em. Do it up if you want. I have the option. I simply choose not to. No deprivation, no sense of lacking.

I find I have been doing the same with food lately. That thing of danishes looks pretty good. Want it? Go for it. They're overpriced but still, if you want 'em, they're there. (Nope, not worth it.) Hey, tubes of cookie dough are right there. (Meh, whatevs, that was always an instantly regretted decision)....you get the picture. By not denying myself, I don't feel deprived. I know what I'm doing is to better myself, and I really don't get too jazzed at the idea of having to work twice as hard to see no change on the scale. Fuck that! I work hard enough as it is to see that number go down, I'm not going to make it harder on myself for cryin' out sakes.

Now, this is what does the trick for me and me only. If we were all the same, then Oprah would have solved our fat problem decades ago.

Here's to another week of keepin' on with the keepin' on.

xo
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