dianaschnuth

Sometimes, I wish I could hold onto the anger and frustration I’ve felt in recent weeks at my Weight Watchers weigh-in. Had I sat down to write this blog entry at, say, noon today, it would have been vitriolic and self-deprecating and full of fight. Instead, I’ve had nearly nine hours to come to terms with the fact that, yes, I gained two pounds this week, on top of the 1.8 I gained last week, bringing me all the way back up to 198 pounds.

It’s gotten to the point where I don’t even want to publicly (or even semi-publicly) announce what I’m planning to do in regards to my weight-loss plan, because I so rarely follow through anymore. I could tell you that I’ve decided to work out with weights three days a week and take a lunch walk three days a week, but even I won’t believe me until I’ve actually done it.

Weight Watchers likes to stress that it’s a lifestyle, not a diet — this is true of any Way Of Eating. Even so, I think I’m more likely to successfully drop pounds and stay on-program if I have a “diet” mindset: I’m in this to lose weight, and I’m going to lose X number of pounds by X date. I understand that I’m going to have to eat like this indefinitely, for the most part, in order for me to not gain my weight back. (Case in point: the last two weeks, wherein I slacked off.) For now, though, I need to have that diet mentality in order to succeed.

Tomorrow is my weekly lunch out with my co-workers. I’m planning to choose the healthy option wherever we go, but I’m going to try to strongarm my co-workers into going to my favorite downtown Mediterranean joint instead of the sports bar. If I fall face-first into a giant fried fish sandwich for lunch, though, I’ll balance out dinner accordingly.

Next week, the scale will be moving in the right direction.

Once again, the Weight Watchers scale told me something I wasn’t expecting, but this time it wasn’t good news like it was before. From this morning’s weigh-in at home, I expected to hold steady or maybe have gained half a pound since last week — after all, I weigh in the buff right after my morning pee, so I have to expect that I’ll weigh a bit more at noon, what with clothes and breakfast and water and all.

I can always tell that I’ve either gained or stayed the same when I step on the scale, and as she’s starting to write my weight down in my book, the nice lady manning the scale says, “Got it!” instead of “Good job!” So, I knew before I even read her upside-down writing that I’d gained since last week. Imagine my surprise when I saw her write +2.8 in my weight log.

I haven’t gotten a 5-pound star since… let’s see… last December. It’s disappointing. (By the way, if you can’t quite see them, only four of those 10 stars on my bookmark are 5-pound stars.)

Linda, my WW leader, used the analogy of climbing a mountain to describe our weight loss journey. Sometimes it seems insurmountable, and sometimes we slip backward. I’m not sure how far I want to take the analogy, but it definitely seems like I’m running up and slipping back again, or just kind of walking around the base of the next peak. If I want to make headway against my weekend slippage, I need to be reasonable during weekday evenings and during my weekly department lunch at work, and I need to keep up with this jogging thing.

I let myself slack last week on the jogging. Sunday, my energy was sapped by Becoming A Woman (again); Tuesday, I was just exhausted from work and lack of sleep; and Thursday, it looked like it might rain, so I psyched myself out of jogging. (Of course, it was actually beautiful and sunny by the time I got home from work, but there was no turning my attitude around at that point.) I also didn’t get up early to jog this past Sunday — but today, I got back with the program.

Actually, today I tried to switch it up a little. My first week of jogging involved me jogging through the first verse and chorus of whatever song was playing on my iPod, then walking through the rest, until the next song started up. Today, I tried doing it opposite: walking through the first verse and chorus, then jogging until the end of the song. I wanted to push myself harder. Alas, pushing myself that much harder after a week off resulted in much less actual jogging this time around, since I wore myself out early in the jog and walked for the last third or so of my 1.3-mile course. Also, I need to spend more time out on my walk/jog, as I only racked up 17 minutes of aerobic steps on my pedometer.

This weekend, Aaron and I go to visit my bestest friend Amy in Dayton. We’ll be going to King’s Island, where I haven’t been since I was a VERY little kid. I’m expecting the usual weekend slackitude, as far as food goes — but we’ll likely be walking around the park quite a bit, and we might even hit the water park, so exercise might offset the badness a little.

How bad do I want to lose this last 25 pounds? Bad enough to jog it off, even when I’m not in the mood? Bad enough to say no to the pasta salad at Grumpy’s? We’ll see.

The Weight Watchers scale said that I’m down one more pound this week. Again, the scale at home said no such thing, but I’ll believe the WW scale, I suppose. This puts me officially on a downward trend, which is awesome.

I went for a walk-jog three days last week: Sunday morning, Tuesday evening, and Thursday evening. My “Aunt Flo” showed up in time for the weekend, so I opted to skip Sunday morning’s jog. Today, I was recovering from a busy day at work, after a late night watching YouTube videos, so I not only skipped my evening jog, but I inadvertently took a half-hour nap on the loveseat downstairs.

I’m going to make a concerted effort not to let this new habit fade out before it has a chance to take hold. Surprisingly enough, I’ve really been enjoying my jogs, once I get out there and do it. I used to think I hated running, but I think I just hated running in gym class, at the ass-end of the pack, feeling like people were staring at me because I still had two more laps around the gym when most everyone else was already done. Running at my own pace makes me feel fantastic.

This weekend, Aaron and I ate lunch at the International Festival, at the mosque in Perrysburg; had Korean with friends; made takoyaki (octopus dumplings) at home; and I *still* lost a pound. This gives me hope for the future: maybe this way of eating is totally sustainable for me, if I can eat especially healthy during the week, eat fun things on the weekends, and still lose weight.

Yes, I did actually drop a full pound this week, according to the Weight Watchers scale. According to my scale at home, I didn’t lose shit, but who am I to argue?

Last week, my leader told me to cut two Points from my daily allotment, in hopes of jolting me out of this damned plateau. I’m not sure if the lack of two Points per day actually made any physical difference, but it made me rethink my meals and snacks. Granted, I still didn’t tally my Points on Saturday (sushi, Indian, and Korean food all in one day!), but I was much more conscientious during the rest of the week. I’ve been eating 24 Points per day for so many months that I think I just needed to throw a wrench in the works, to mix things up a little.

I’ve also started running. I’ve been thinking about it for literally years now, and only Sunday did I get out and do it. —Well, to be fair, I did do some running back in Spring 2007, but it was short-lived. See, back then, I drove out to Wildwood Metropark to do my running, while today I’m just running out my front door and around my ‘hood.

I’ve realized why I never wanted to go running before, and it had nothing (or very little) to do with any sort of physical pain or discomfort. It all boiled down to self-image: I felt like everybody would be staring at me as I ran past. Recently, I’ve come to the realization that no one really cares — and I don’t mean that in a negative way. I’ve crossed paths with joggers and runners on the trail and downtown, and it’s not like I look every one of them up and down or anything. Actually, when the heftier ladies jog past, I’m usually impressed that they’re out there, kicking that ass. I’m not judging them. And, hopefully, neither will my neighbors judge me as I jog past on Sunday mornings and Tuesday/Thursday evenings.

My iPod playlist still needs some tweaking, but I’ve discovered that Mint Car by The Cure is just about perfect. Now, if I can build a playlist around that tempo and upbeat vibe (that’s one of very few upbeat Cure songs, to be sure), I’ll be good to go.

The short loop that I’ve been jogging is 1.3 miles, and I’ve only been going around it once. I think I’m going to try to build up to jogging the whole thing without any walk breaks before I switch up my route. I may change my mind, though; we’ll see.

My legs are sore, my back muscles are sore, and my throat still burns just a little… but I still feel fantastic. And I actually enjoy running. I really hope I can keep this going.