My lowest weight ever was 166 pounds, on April 16, 2016.
I hovered around 170 for the rest of that spring and summer. Come November, I started a slow and steady climb up the scale that wouldn’t quit until I reached my “Oh Shit” weight of 180 the following June.
Ever since then, I’ve been wavering around that Oh Shit weight, give or take a few pounds. I’ll have good weeks and not-so-good weeks, but the scale pretty much hovers in the same spot, on average. My Oh Shit weight has become more of a status quo, a fact of life. I live in my Oh Shit weight, so I may as well be comfortable with it.
This year has seen me regain some momentum in the right direction.
I finally discovered that if I want to avoid making poor food choices after dark, the answer is to reward myself for not eating after 8pm. That way, the pull to refrain from eating is greater than the pull of a fourth meal full of starchy comfort food or sweet desserty goodness.
I consider this month a victory. Granted, my daily weight trended down by only a pound over the course of May, but it was movement in the right direction, and it represents a change in habits.
My budget may hate me for this, but if physical rewards are what it takes to keep me on track — at least, for now — then my bank account will have to take one for the team while I earn myself some new cute weekend sandals and work wear. 🙂