Back on the wagon

I've been attending Weight Watchers meetings for over four years now and guess what? I'm not cured. There is no panacea, it seems. It's the original definition of "uphill battle."

I held my goal weight from December 2008 through September 2009. Last time I weighed in, on September 5th, I squeaked by with .2 pounds to spare. I can be two pounds over my goal weight and still be considered at goal, but technically I was already 1.8 pounds over when I stood on the scale last month. In other words, I was already tumbling down the mountain.

Four days after that date, all hell broke loose at work and our team was sliced in half. I gained four pounds that week. Then I got sick. What's that saying: feed a cold, starve a fever? Or is it the other way around? I eat either way, just to be on the safe side. I've continued to go to aerobics and make a half-assed attempt to count my points, but I also succumbed to a "homemade cookie" day at work. I believe I would sell my soul for a perfect, pulled-from-the-oven-at-precisely-the-right-time chocolate chip cookie. And it would be so worth it. I don't believe in hell so there's no real harm.

This week I am atop the wagon yet again and giving it my best shot. I'm hoping to get back to my goal weight (I'm at least five pounds over right now). I have a vacation coming up, and it's hard to say how well I'll maintain my focus. A and I are visiting my mom in Oklahoma and she usually makes fudge. I will not touch any other fudge in the world except the chocolatey goodness my mom creates. She makes it using a recipe from a tattered cookbook she has owned for some forty years. It's magical stuff. And if you know me, you know I don't share, so asking will get you nowhere.

:::snapping out of fudge-induced, Homer Simpson-like reverie:::

I'm going to weigh in on Saturday and face the proverbial music. I know I can get a handle on this thing, but sometimes I don't want to. I want to eat full-fat potato chips and never skip dessert. But then I remember why I walked into that first meeting in 2005. I'm planning to do a lot of things to embarrass my daughter as she grows up, and I didn't want my weight to be one of them. So if I can't do it for myself, at least I should be able to do it for the sake of her once and future social life.

Comments

Khudson33 said…
Good luck- you continue to inspire me-- perhaps to the point that I'm thinking of joining the program myself! I'm many pounds away, and have been floundering & lazy with the beautiful late summer weather, but reading this put me back on track! Thanks!
October 8, 2009 at 11:50 AM
Marginwalker said…
I've been working on some similar issues myself. It's like my psyche is overruling my decision to keep losing weight. And we both know I need to continue to lose weight! I just keep going to my meetings, waiting for it to 'kick in' again. YOU are my inspiration. You're one of the reasons I never give up. And you're the boot in the rear that got me to that first meeting. You can do this!
October 12, 2009 at 10:22 AM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

It's been a minute, but let's talk about my b*o*o*b*s

Image
I'm in the sixth grade. I'm sitting on the floor at my friend Sharon's house. Rachel is there, too. My well-meaning friends turn to me and gently let me know that I "really don't need to bother wearing a bra." They aren't wrong. I'm wearing one, but the situation doesn't particularly warrant it.  Two years later, I found myself sporting a C cup. My mom, a talented seamstress, made me a dress at about that time. It was a slim-fitting column dress with a matching jacket, as I recall. The white fabric had large polka dots; we jokingly called it the Wonder Bread dress. My mom took my measurements. 36-24-36 At some point in history, those numbers were considered "perfect measurements" for a woman. This was 1984; I'd like to think the world as a whole is less concerned about such things these days. I'm confident my daughter has no earthly idea what her measurements are. She just knows she's cute.  Growing up with a fun array of medi
Read more

On Being Patriotic

The list of adjectives I assign to myself is pretty long: clumsy, organized, competent, uptight, etc. One that might surprise you: patriotic. I fully understand what it means to be an American and am darned happy about living here. But, I have a beef (that part won't surprise you). I've grown tired of certain segments of the population thinking that they've cornered the market on patriotism or that they can dictate precisely how the rest of us express ourselves when it comes to our shared country and flag. Sometimes it seems like the Toby-Keith-boot-in-yer-ass brand of patriotism drowns out the rest of us. For the record, I don't believe that patriotism requires a love of NASCAR, a disdain for immigrants, a Republican voting record, or a preference for country music. Nor does it require adherence to a specific religion. I've seen Facebook posts from some of my friends and acquaintances that call for all of us to return to the "Christian principles on which
Read more

Buca di Beppo Gift Card Giveaway!

Image
I've been gaining some new readers lately, which is very gratifying. I've done some reading on the topic of optimizing one's blog, and one oft-used suggestion is to have a giveaway of some type. "No," I always think to myself with a self-satisfied shake of my head. "I will not cheapen my blog like that. I want people to come on by because they like my writing." Or because they find me incredibly witty and unmistakably modest. Or they think I have the cutest kid they've ever seen, bar none. Or they are stalking me and need to gather just a bit more personal information before showing up at my workplace with a machete. I've also noticed that some of the blogs that receive heavy traffic are also very confessional (TMI) in nature. I think harboring a few secrets is healthy, so I'll continue to keep some things to myself, thankyouveddymuch. I'm also keenly aware that I don't really have a reliable shtick on which to hang my blogger hat. I
Read more