Today was weigh-in day. I've worked really really hard for the past few weeks trying to prepare for this day. Ate all my vegis, drank all my water, did all my exercises (and then some). And for what? That scale is a bitch!
I've actually been feeling pretty good about my body lately. My waist has been way trimmer and my arms, well, lets just say you better get your tickets. Tickets? To the gun show, baby. OK, totally lame, I know. But I've done enough triceps rows and lateral lifts and weighted punches to equal rowing around the world. So shut up!
I even got into those infamous white pants on Mother's Day. I didn't just get into them - I rocked them. They weren't at all tight and they kissed my curves in all the right places.
And, Ta-Da! I had lost almost 6.5 inches (3.5 from my waist) in two months. So, I should be feeling pretty good about myself right now? And I do. But what's the rub?
I had actually GAINED almost one pound in the same time frame. Yes, I know it's just a pound, but still. I'm trying to lose not gain. And yes, I know that the way my clothes fit and how my body looks is WAAAAY more important than any number on a scale. But, Jesus F-ing Chocolate Covered Christ On A Pogo Stick!!! I've worked really hard and I want those numbers going south, damn it.
I guess that short of going on a lettuce and water diet, I'm going to have to get serious here. Maybe a three day cleanse is in order or who knows what. The next weigh in is going to be different if I can help it. I wonder how much hair weighs? I'm due for a hair cut.
Showing posts with label causes of weight gain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label causes of weight gain. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Thursday, January 14, 2010
What the Hell is Wrong With Me?
I have spent the last couple of months trying to maintain my weight - to varying degrees of success. I've finally lost the few (OK, four) pounds I gained over the holidays, but I'm not about to start bitching about that again. Instead I'm going to start bitching about something completely different.
The thing is I've spent so much time maintaining that I can't get back in the groove of losing. At least I thought that was the problem. The thing is, I'm starting to think that that's not it. I think something else may be the culprit. And I think the something else may be me. Now, I try not to take responsibility for much. (wink wink) but I'm thinking this really might be my fault. What I can't figure out is why.
Why don't I want to lose this weight? I've been 204 for the longest time. All I want to do is get below 200 right now and I was actually doing pretty good. So why the stall? And, seriously, I know all about plataus and how it's completely normal. This just doesn't feel like a normal platau. Lord knows I've had enough of those. I'm thinking maybe I'm keeping myself from losing those four pounds.
I read somewhere that you have to give yourself permission to live the life you want. Very Oprah-y, I know. But, what if there's something to all this? What if I really am scared of losing the weight? What is to be scared of?
Well, after giving it some deep bubble-bath induced thought, turns out there is quite a bit to be scared of. I decided to start at the beginning. As in, when was the last time I was under 200 large? Fire up the WayBack Machine for this one, it's been a while. Over 10 years to be exact. When I was a 20 year old college student who just found out she was pregnant. Naturally you gain weight when your pregnant, but it wasn't just the pregnancy that packed on my pounds. When I decided to keep my baby it brought about some - let's say - familial difficulties. I'm not going to go into personal stuff, mainly because I've worked really hard to put some of that behind me. And I am totally not blaiming my family - I'm blaming myself for the way I dealt with it. I ate.
Then I got married. And ate. And bought a house. And ate. And had another baby. And ate some more. Then we built a new house. And I ate and ate and ate. Then I saw a picture of myself at a party. A party where I thought I was looking particularily hot when I left the house. Yeah, not so much. Anyways, I have dealt with all this. Seriously. I've even talked to someone about it professionally. So why is it all coming back up now?
I guess, like bad pennies and Cher, it just does. But, what with the fear? What's holding me back? Am I afraid of going back to a place where all this started? Am I afraid that being in my old body will bring back all those old emotions? Or is it even more random than that? I have never in all my adult life (which started when I became a mother) been an average weight. My husband started dating me when I was waaaaaay thinner. He has loved me at my smallest and at my largest and at every size in between. Surely I'm not afraid that he won't love me if I lose the weight. I know he will. In my head, anyways.
No, I can't seem to put my finger on it. But something is keeping me from losing the four pounds just as surely as something caused me to put on all those others. Hopefully I can power through and lose them anyways. Maybe when I do, it'll be a little clearer. Maybe not. Maybe I've just hit a snag and am being too introspective. Whatever the reason, it's four pounds too many and it's time they hit the bricks. Oprah, are you listening, I give myself the permission to let go of those four pounds and finally live my life below 200.
The thing is I've spent so much time maintaining that I can't get back in the groove of losing. At least I thought that was the problem. The thing is, I'm starting to think that that's not it. I think something else may be the culprit. And I think the something else may be me. Now, I try not to take responsibility for much. (wink wink) but I'm thinking this really might be my fault. What I can't figure out is why.
Why don't I want to lose this weight? I've been 204 for the longest time. All I want to do is get below 200 right now and I was actually doing pretty good. So why the stall? And, seriously, I know all about plataus and how it's completely normal. This just doesn't feel like a normal platau. Lord knows I've had enough of those. I'm thinking maybe I'm keeping myself from losing those four pounds.
I read somewhere that you have to give yourself permission to live the life you want. Very Oprah-y, I know. But, what if there's something to all this? What if I really am scared of losing the weight? What is to be scared of?
Well, after giving it some deep bubble-bath induced thought, turns out there is quite a bit to be scared of. I decided to start at the beginning. As in, when was the last time I was under 200 large? Fire up the WayBack Machine for this one, it's been a while. Over 10 years to be exact. When I was a 20 year old college student who just found out she was pregnant. Naturally you gain weight when your pregnant, but it wasn't just the pregnancy that packed on my pounds. When I decided to keep my baby it brought about some - let's say - familial difficulties. I'm not going to go into personal stuff, mainly because I've worked really hard to put some of that behind me. And I am totally not blaiming my family - I'm blaming myself for the way I dealt with it. I ate.
Then I got married. And ate. And bought a house. And ate. And had another baby. And ate some more. Then we built a new house. And I ate and ate and ate. Then I saw a picture of myself at a party. A party where I thought I was looking particularily hot when I left the house. Yeah, not so much. Anyways, I have dealt with all this. Seriously. I've even talked to someone about it professionally. So why is it all coming back up now?
I guess, like bad pennies and Cher, it just does. But, what with the fear? What's holding me back? Am I afraid of going back to a place where all this started? Am I afraid that being in my old body will bring back all those old emotions? Or is it even more random than that? I have never in all my adult life (which started when I became a mother) been an average weight. My husband started dating me when I was waaaaaay thinner. He has loved me at my smallest and at my largest and at every size in between. Surely I'm not afraid that he won't love me if I lose the weight. I know he will. In my head, anyways.
No, I can't seem to put my finger on it. But something is keeping me from losing the four pounds just as surely as something caused me to put on all those others. Hopefully I can power through and lose them anyways. Maybe when I do, it'll be a little clearer. Maybe not. Maybe I've just hit a snag and am being too introspective. Whatever the reason, it's four pounds too many and it's time they hit the bricks. Oprah, are you listening, I give myself the permission to let go of those four pounds and finally live my life below 200.
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