The Weekly Weigh In

I used to put just which week I was in on my weekly weigh in entries. However, just how freaking long have I been doing this now? I really have lost track.

I think I'm in the beginning of my third year with Weight Watchers. That's a little scary, but I've also learned the absolute best lesson about dieting that I could have: Don't impose a timeline on your body as you're learning to change your habits. This way it truly becomes a lifestyle change rather than a diet. So much of Weight Watchers just feels truly natural to me now. I automatically count my points as I eat. As I've crossed weight and age thresholds, I've adjusted my daily points downward without having to think about it. Water, fruit and veggies are just what I consume, and if I don't, I miss them. I've accepted that weight fluctuations are just normal, and that plateaus, even lengthy plateaus, are just part of dieting.

I've still got a lot that I need to change. This week, I've been fighting cravings. Cravings are normal and natural. I firmly believe that a craving is sometimes just your body telling you what it needs. Those are good cravings, even if the food you're craving isn't one that's traditionally considered a good-for-you food. That kind of craving is a reinforcement of the mind-body-spirit connection. Then there are the cravings that aren't so good for you. I'm not talking about the craving for potato chips that is satisfied after eating a moderate serving, and you realize that all you're tasting is grease and salt. I'm talking the ones that just won't go away.

For me this week, it was bread and butter. I'm not a big bread person. Oh, I enjoy restaurant bread sticks and rolls, and I have friends who make homemade breads to die for, but bread is normally a food that I can just take or leave. Not this week. The womanchild did the grocery shopping for me this week. Her frugality means that she doesn't necessarily pick out the brands, particularly the diet brands for certain foods that I do. I usually get a one point for two slices diet brand of whole wheat bread. She picked up plain white bread. One afternoon, it felt like I just couldn't stop. One plain piece of white bread slathered with real butter after another. I actually ate more than half my points for the day on bread and butter. Real butter -- that's a food item I don't compromise on. I'll take a real food over processed chemical margarine any day. The extra calories are worth the taste, and normally I use butter with extreme caution.

Now, I believe that a little indulgence every now and then is not only normal but healthy. This was different though. It was a binge. I was not in control. I'd quit really enjoying the food a good while before I quit buttering the bread, and I just had that sick, compulsive feeling in my emotional gut. It was the latter that got me off the butter trail. I wasn't going to do this to myself any longer. I did have to use some extra discipline to stop the binge. I called a friend who is excellent at helping me look at myself and what's really going on in my life. I put both the bread and butter where they weren't immediately visible. I went out and worked in the yard. Eventually the cravings did go away, but they served as a good reminder not to give up on learning more about eating healthy both emotionally and physically.

Despite the binge, I lost 1.6 pounds this week. That makes my current weight 249.4 and my total weight loss 130.6 pounds. This is less than I've weighed in 20 years.

weight loss, diets, Weight Watchers

The Weigh In

This plateau I've been on has been driving me crazy, and when something is making me nuts, I have to find a way to either change or make peace with the situation. Being the list maker that I am, I first had to determine what the possible root of the problem was and came up with several possible solutions.

1. A nine month plateau could be a signal that this weight, though significantly overweight is where your body wants to be. It's a very viable possibility.

2. I haven't been truly diligent about points tracking. I'm into my second year of this. It's routine. Worse, it's old. I've been around longer than some of the instructors. When I go to meetings, I'm not hearing much new anymore, and new info keeps me motivated and going.

3. Possibly, I haven't made the best food choices for awhile. That won't explain nine months, but it will part of it.

4. I know I've been less active. There's no doubt about that. I don't remember the last time I did Pilates. The exercise ball is dusty, and I haven't been walking in over a week. Definitely not good. This is not the only spell I've had like this.

These are four good, viable options. Each of them has its own merit. The first is both the most comforting and the scariest. This doesn't get the media's attention like the "obesity epidemic", but there are overwhelming amounts of scientific evidence that a person has little control over their body size. Fat people tend to stay fat, and thin people tend to stay thin. I don't think I'll ever be thin. I'm just not built that way. Rounded breasts, belly and hips are a part of me. They always have been. I look at my thin daughter, and she has a belly at barely over 100 pounds. That said, I'd still like to be smaller. I'd like to take more pressure off my knees and ankles. I want to really be able to hike again, not just walk on a level track. There are all sorts of reasons to keep this weight loss up. That is, if my body isn't at that range it says is normal for me. If that's true, continuing to diet is just beating my head against a wall, and I want the gray matter I have left.

The other three possibilities I listed are controllable behaviors. It only take a minute or two after every meal to track my points. Eating good food for me has always been a simple issue of planning well with respect to my budget. The last is the easiest to control. All I have to do is stay off my butt. Since I made my list, I've done well at controlling 2 and 3. I've had lots of veggies, cut down more on soft drinks and upped the water intake. I'm making efforts to stay on my feet and moving good chunks of the day, even if it's traditional exercise. So far, so good

This morning, I went to my Weight Watchers meeting. I missed last week. I knew I'd lost some weight. I could feel it, but I really wanted to know now much. I'd lost 6.6 pounds in two weeks, bringing my total weight loss now to 129 pounds. This is officially the smallest I've been in 21 years.

Am I off my plateau? I don't know. It's too soon to tell, but today's weigh in felt so good, and I just want to keep on going.

diets,weight loss, Weight Watchers

67% of My Size

Last night I watched People Magazine's Half My Size Challenge on TV. I was actually hoping to see some people who were half the size they used to be, because if I reach the Weight Watchers healthy weight range for a woman of my height, I will have lost more than half my size. I may not have gotten to see people who have done that, but I still got a good dose of inspiration and a few smiles recognizing the struggles the Mississippi Eight faced.

I've needed a boost. I started trying to make changes in my life and health four years ago. I found myself weighing close to 400 pounds. I hurt with every step I took, but after nearly an entire lifetime of diets, I'd practically given up. I had resigned myself to being an uninsurable, socially unacceptable object of ridicule and probably dying young. To rehash some previously blogged history, I decided to just start trying to live in a healthier way. In two years, I'd lost close to fifty pounds. In the elasticized world of plus sizes, that meant one pants size and a difference in my appearance that felt minuscule. For fifty pounds.

When my blood pressure skyrocketed after a lifetime of being in a normal range, I decided to up the effort. My doctor recommended that I join Weight Watchers. I've been doing this for two years now, and have dropped another 80 pounds. That brings my weight loss now to 124 pounds. I am proud of that, and I've worked very hard to accomplish that. I've now dropped seven clothing sizes and don't hurt when I walk...unless I really push myself harder than I need to go yet. I no longer sleep with a CPAP for sleep apnea and my blood pressure is normal with the help of medication.

I've got good solid evidence that this is working for me. That alone is motivation. However, I'm still 82 pounds over the top of my recommended weight range. I weigh one pound more now than I did in January. I gained seventeen pounds between January and May and lost 16 of them since June. Basically this year has been one big weight loss plateau. Honestly, my body is comfortable here, and my appearance has changed dramatically. I enjoy having a hint of a waistline but know the hard truths about how fat fills in wrinkles and age affects upper arms.

So, what's the big fat deal? Having lost this much weight, I ought to feel fantastic about myself, my discipline and stick-to-it-tiveness. I ought to feel like a role model, and instead, blah. It's not enough that I've lost a whole lot of weight. I've actually lost more than my daughter's entire weight. It's like a whole person has left my body. I've done it slowly -- the healthy, sane and sensible way to lose weight --and that makes it feel like no big deal. Plus, I'm still fat -- really fat. I no longer feel like a grotesque caricature of a woman. Saying I'm an attractive woman isn't just an effort to build up my self-esteem. It's the truth. It's been three years since a person threw a milkshake at me from a moving car while yelling an insult about my size, but sales girls still give me that look and say, "We don't carry anything to fit you." And I still have skinny acquaintances who think I lie about stuff like that.

My mind keeps circling around instant gratification. Is this truly significant weight loss and life change less meaningful because it's taking time? I feel like I should already be at my goal weight, and honestly feel like somewhat of a failure because I'm not. I know my lack of satisfaction is linked to more than my weight. Much of the last year has been a huge emotional ass whipping.

To keep up the work I want to do, I need to feel good about what I've done. Yes, you can take that as a shameless plea for positive feedback and praise, but it's also "just the facts". If I'm not deriving pleasure from my results, I simply won't keep up with the process. Part of my mind is judging the merits of goals, motivations and inspirations, and another part is wondering how I can feel pleasure again.

Last night's TV show helped. I don't remember the name of the dieter who touched me the most, but she was a young black woman who lost only 19 pounds and worked damned hard for every ounce. The change in her body was noticeable as they had their final weigh in. I wish I had her dedication to exercise. I can't even imagine trying to run a 5K, and she completed one. She was in last place, and every other contestant went back to join her as she crossed the finish line. She had the courage to perform in a belly dancing recital, and she was absolutely beautiful. I was truly inspired.

I still don't enjoy exercise, but I really want to. Even with the cooler temperatures, walking is a still a chore. After only two miles I'm dripping sweat, huffing and puffing and feel like I can't go on. I know I used to feel that way after making it to the end of the block. I just haven't found an aerobic exercise that feels right to me, and I need one. I want one. Besides the fat burning, I want to improve my flexibility and grace, and I'd love to pick my c-sectioned belly up off my thighs. Current circumstances mean this has to be something I can do solo, and I need to broaden my search.

I know the challenges I'm facing, and they're a little intimidating. However, I am keeping on and will continue to take off.

Half My Size Challenge, 100 pound weight loss, weight loss, motivation, exercise