The demon I cannot slay



It’s official. I’ve lost control.

I’m not meant to be a genuinely thin person, this I know. But I’m not necessarily willing to be fat, either. I joined Weight Watchers in 2005 and hit my goal weight at the end of 2006. I continued to struggle with the same ten pounds or so for the next two years. I'd lose a little, I'd gain a little. In the fall of 2008, I decided to get a bit more disciplined with counting points and tracking what I put in my mouth. By December of that year, I was back at my goal weight. I then fought hard to maintain it for the next ten months. I was genuinely proud of myself. I knew I wasn’t cured of my compulsion to eat more than my body needs, but I thought I had it mostly under control. Then, in September of 2009, the stress in my life overtook me. Our team was cut in half at work, and I was left with an impossible workload. I gained four pounds that week. The last four weeks at my new job have left me grateful to be gainfully employed, but struggling to learn new systems, new software, new procedures. I have steadily gained weight with each passing day.

Believe it or not, I have continued to exercise pretty regularly. I bought one of those weighted hula hoops and use that sometimes at night. I go to an intensive step aerobics class every Tuesday. I now belong to the gym and hit the treadmill when I can. However, nothing can really counteract the sheer volume of calories I have been consuming.

Once my weight starts to get out of control, the voice in my head gets ever louder. "You won't ever be pretty, no matter what you do, so why not eat?" And so, I eat. It's powerful, that voice.

I have not attended a Weight Watchers meeting since early December. I kept thinking that I would get my weight back under control on my own and then go back. Clearly, my ill-conceived plan is not working. There is nothing left to do but . . . go back. And so, I shall lumber into the meeting on Saturday and hoist myself onto the scale. Perhaps I shall regain my motivation. I've done it before, I'll do it again.

On a lighter note, the longer commute to work has left me more time to catch up on podcasts and listen to music. I have over 1500 songs on my iPod and yet some days I can't seem to find anything I want to hear. Here are two songs that never fail to get my toe tapping.

Bought a sweater for his Weimeraner, too! [clap clap]





Comments

Khudson33 said…
You're beautiful! Everyone falls off once in a while, get back up dust yourself off, swallow your pride and head to the WW thats what they are there for- support and encouragement! Keep on truckin' things will level out. Best of luck & all the support a fellow boxer & food junkie can send!
January 28, 2010 at 8:29 PM
Jodi said…
In the great words of Rob Schneider's character from the movie The Waterboy..."You can do it!" (I hope you have seen the movie and can picture the visual that goes along with this) :)
January 28, 2010 at 10:05 PM
Marginwalker said…
Hey Kid,

I am sitting here struggling with some of the same things. Amazing, isn't it? How we can have all the tools and all the knowledge, but the voices in our heads are what we listen to most. Lately what I've been feeling is resentment. I resent the fact that I simply can't eat whatever the heck I want, dagnabbit. I haven't missed any meetings, but I've been skipping weigh ins, which is the next closest thing. You're doing the right thing--getting to a meeting. I'll be going...and getting on the flipping scale this time. Hugs and loser vibes, Miss L.
January 29, 2010 at 9:56 AM
Anonymous said…
Why in the h-e-double hockey sticks do you keep saying you're not pretty? And don't you dare say "You're my mother, you're supposed to say that." (correct punctuation here is not clear)
You were a beautiful baby, a pretty child and you are now a lovely woman -- so stop it already.
Love, Mom
p.s. Don't tell me to go to bed because it's past 2:00am!!
January 30, 2010 at 2:11 AM
sanjeet said…
Best of luck & all the support a fellow boxer & food junkie can send!
Make website india
February 11, 2010 at 7:38 PM
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

14 Weeks

Image
My baby is leaving me in 14 weeks.  She and I started touring colleges in May of 2022. When I applied to colleges back in 1988, I was an English major so there were no auditions. Colleges basically just said, "Sounds good. Come on in." I was the first person in my immediate family to go to college and as a whole, I don't think we understood the importance of campus visits and such. I ended up being fairly miserable that first year until I transferred to a school closer to home. For my daughter, I wanted to make sure she had an opportunity to see lots of college campuses so that she had the best shot at figuring out what she wants out of the college experience. I wanted her to look at elements like campus size and location, diversity, activities, distance from home, and distance from the nearest "big city" (since performers often head to larger cities with active theatre scenes after college).  Last summer, we began the daunting process known as "getting int...
Read more