Official weigh-in yesterday: gained less than one pound this week. I still consider that basically maintaining my weight. I’m about eight pounds above my all-time low weight (attained just before Christmas last year).
Someone remind me again why I decided to resume posting these weekly updates?
Oh, yeah. It was supposed to get me off my ass and back on Program.
I’ll spend a day or two in a row totally on-program and doing awesome. Then some food
obstacle excuse will make itself known, like our weekly department lunch at work, and I’ll dive face-first into a plate of deliciousness that I don’t have any idea how desire to count Points for.
I’m back to my old, post-Atkins mentality: one won’t hurt. One untracked meal. One day without my walk. It won’t kill me. It won’t make me gain back all 20 pounds I’ve lost on WW, or all 60 pounds I’ve lost in the past six years. Not all at once.
I’m not sure what, if anything, will give me a Eureka that will keep me going for more than a few days at a time. It seems like I can’t stay rigidly on-program without someone (read: Aaron) hand-holding me every step of the way. Once I’m given “permission” to go off-program for a meal, I grab it with both hands. The option of being “good” in the face of adversity barely flits through my mind. Granted, I’m not as “bad” as I once was — I’ll get the grilled tuna steak sandwich and pasta salad instead of a plate of sauce-laden noodles — but it’s still not good enough.
So, here I sit, waiting for motivation to strike (and stay struck). A few days at a time? That I can do. Forever? That’s a little daunting.