On the Lighter Side
These days, I’m feeling rather like a mountain goat.
For whatever reason, my weight now bounces up and down until I wish I had hooves and a beard on my chin. Well, okay, the beard wouldn’t help and it would hair-up my sweaters, but still, sometimes I think I need climbing gear just to hang on to the scales. I was up and down all last week, up every day the week before, and this week I’m plummeting during PMS. Clearly this is how the bottom part of the weight loss goes. So, as part of the deciding-and-accepting phase of my weight loss, I’m going to suck it up and weigh in every week, no matter what the scale says. This is a lifetime journey and my weight does not matter week to week. It simply does not. What matters is the food I’m eating and the attitude I project and the way that I behave.
Is that convincing?
It helps considerably that I’ve had a flu bug that allows me to be up and working, but does not permit me to eat anything more dangerous than a protein shake or a calm yogurt (no big fruit pieces-learned that the hard way). Poor Howard. He’s weathering it better than the veterans I’ve had in this role, but still, he’s clearly a novice at Parenting While Sick. I don’t think he’s been to bed so early since the 70s. Last night, he fell asleep on the couch at 7:30pm, while DS and I battled over whose turn it was on Thomas’s Trains and Trestles game. Just for the record, I hate that game, and it has nothing (well, very little) to do with my current state of ill health.
The flu has its upside, at least as far as my demented brain determines “up”. While I’m doing my best to keep things protein-rich, I’m still way down on my food intake. After my Saturday weigh-in of 163.50, I hit 161.50 on Sunday and Monday, and today I am at 159.75. Below 160. I might have to tease my hair up and go back to my 1990s hairspray of choice, Rave #4-MegaHold, just for the occasion. I know I can’t keep it, but wow, does it feel good to be in the 150s. If I count today, then I’m officially down 91.25 pounds from my heaviest, and I still (maybe) have some period puffiness to go. Of course, as soon as I swallow a scrambled egg or slice of Canadian bacon, I’m flying right back up. But for now, today, and until I heal, I feel svelte and slim and sexy. And hungry. Really hungry. A protein shake lasts about as long in the tummy it takes to drink (less than 1 minute). But I’d rather be hungry than sick, especially since it’s a long a walk to the can from my desk.
But this could be the very Safe Place I need to get on the scale this Saturday and start something real and important. As of last week, I’m 2.4 pounds away from my goal weight at Weight Watchers. While I’m gunning to go to meetings for free under the Lifetime program, I want it to be real, and this is not. I’m a little bit worried about going to WW this Saturday and weighing in super-light, especially since I’ve been averaging about 1.2 pounds per week the last month, and every 2nd or 3rd week, I’ve had a gain. If I’m truly down almost 4 pounds by Saturday, I might have to temper the loss by wearing heavy clothes to the weigh-in. It could be funny, going to WW with all my clothes on, since it’s supposed to be 46 here on Saturday, which will feel like swimsuit weather. So for the first ‘nice’ day of the emerging spring, I’ll be in 3 sweaters and chest waders, refusing to take my shoes off to weigh-in.
No, no, no. I won’t do that. The whole point of this exercise is to be real, and to take the ups and downs, just as they are. So if I somehow slip into my goal weight on Saturday, and then next Saturday I slip right back out of it, then I’ll start my 6-week maintenance test at another time. According to my plan, I was going to hit 160 pounds at or around the time that I’d be in Florida. We’re scheduled to leave on the 23rd, which is 17 days away. I’d love to board the plane at 155, but it’s not likely, and that’s okay. I’m going to a WW-friendly environment, and I’ll be more active on vacation than I usually am at home, so all that will help. And I’ll be at my goal soon enough.
In other news, I had a conversation with Maria the Spectacular (WW Leader) last week about switching my goal weight to something lower. I had this idea that she’d been disappointed in my original goal. To my surprise, she balked when I tried to change it. “You look skinny,” she said. When I pinched the octopus to prove that I still had weight to lose, she pointed out (politely) that since I’d lost so much weight, I might always have that pooch (NO!!!). We agreed to leave the goal weight where it was, and see what happened once I reached it.
Maybe the octopus will always be with me, but I still think I can get it to 150-pounds instead of 160. But if I keep my goal at 163, I can get to Lifetime faster, and figure out what maintenance is all about. Right now, it looks like more points and more calories, which is terrifying, but I will not be deterred. I will learn how to take this as a long-term journey, even if I hate it at every step. I won’t; it’s more the fear of the “plus” sign in front of my weekly weigh-in that scares me. But it does not define me. Well, actually, it does. But I’m hoping that putting myself through a ‘gain’ will show me that it doesn’t.
Convinced yet?
Referencing last week and my post, I think I might have had a Good Stress Overload moment, or maybe a little bit of extra PMS. Oh, happy day. But I’m feeling much better, I’m back to realizing that my life is good, good, good, and thank you to everyone who offered support, commiserations and anecdotes to help me get my mind off of things. Now I can concentrate on finding a wedding dress, or at least doing a fair value comparison of the in-house stock, so that I can contact my seamstress and get to working on my actual gown. In the mean time, Lynda the Nanny-Goddess brought over her dress for me to try. It’s a bit small (it’s a 6), it’s a bit short, and it’s white, but it’s free, and apparently it gives an Irish woman lots of good luck if someone borrows her wedding gown. That might be the reason to use it right there.
She said that I could alter it, but wow, that’s a big thing. She doesn’t have children yet, but she might some day, and I’d hate to have to make her give over the Tall Girl variety to her wee one, just because I couldn’t make it work. I’m taking it to the seamstress to see what she says about the charges to alter it, and make it longer. Once I hear the price tag on that, I can make my decision about made-to-order bride’s wear. Thanks again to Jeanius for helping me through that process. It’s really amazing how much I just don’t know about women’s wear. And I wasn’t even a lesbian for all that long.
The next big thing in the honeymoon. Howard and I had decided on Vancouver and then shelved it because it’s on the lip of the rainy season. We threw Europe around, but I loathe flying, and when you factor in 4 hours over an ocean with no place to land, I start to white-knuckle. Next came the southwestern corridor (AZ, NM, Mexico), but since we have no real idea of what’s available in Mexico, which resorts are couples/romantic vs. family-friendly, and whether we’ll be shot while sunbathing (always a bad thing), that got canned. So did all the Caribbean islands, since it’s still technically hurricane season, and NO, I do not care that it’s almost over by then. It just takes one 300 mph wind to wreck your whole vacation.
So that pretty much leaves Florida and Chicago. I hear both places are nice.
I can’t believe that it’s so hard to think up some place to go and be with my new husband. But maybe it makes sense. It’s like my frigging dress: it’s nothing, just a vacation, but it’s also everything. Puerto Rico is on the table, as is Monaco. Yep, I know; one is in the Caribbean, and the other is in Europe. I am nothing if not full of contradictions.
Ah, at last: something convincing.
A the B(elow 160, however temporary)
For whatever reason, my weight now bounces up and down until I wish I had hooves and a beard on my chin. Well, okay, the beard wouldn’t help and it would hair-up my sweaters, but still, sometimes I think I need climbing gear just to hang on to the scales. I was up and down all last week, up every day the week before, and this week I’m plummeting during PMS. Clearly this is how the bottom part of the weight loss goes. So, as part of the deciding-and-accepting phase of my weight loss, I’m going to suck it up and weigh in every week, no matter what the scale says. This is a lifetime journey and my weight does not matter week to week. It simply does not. What matters is the food I’m eating and the attitude I project and the way that I behave.
Is that convincing?
It helps considerably that I’ve had a flu bug that allows me to be up and working, but does not permit me to eat anything more dangerous than a protein shake or a calm yogurt (no big fruit pieces-learned that the hard way). Poor Howard. He’s weathering it better than the veterans I’ve had in this role, but still, he’s clearly a novice at Parenting While Sick. I don’t think he’s been to bed so early since the 70s. Last night, he fell asleep on the couch at 7:30pm, while DS and I battled over whose turn it was on Thomas’s Trains and Trestles game. Just for the record, I hate that game, and it has nothing (well, very little) to do with my current state of ill health.
The flu has its upside, at least as far as my demented brain determines “up”. While I’m doing my best to keep things protein-rich, I’m still way down on my food intake. After my Saturday weigh-in of 163.50, I hit 161.50 on Sunday and Monday, and today I am at 159.75. Below 160. I might have to tease my hair up and go back to my 1990s hairspray of choice, Rave #4-MegaHold, just for the occasion. I know I can’t keep it, but wow, does it feel good to be in the 150s. If I count today, then I’m officially down 91.25 pounds from my heaviest, and I still (maybe) have some period puffiness to go. Of course, as soon as I swallow a scrambled egg or slice of Canadian bacon, I’m flying right back up. But for now, today, and until I heal, I feel svelte and slim and sexy. And hungry. Really hungry. A protein shake lasts about as long in the tummy it takes to drink (less than 1 minute). But I’d rather be hungry than sick, especially since it’s a long a walk to the can from my desk.
But this could be the very Safe Place I need to get on the scale this Saturday and start something real and important. As of last week, I’m 2.4 pounds away from my goal weight at Weight Watchers. While I’m gunning to go to meetings for free under the Lifetime program, I want it to be real, and this is not. I’m a little bit worried about going to WW this Saturday and weighing in super-light, especially since I’ve been averaging about 1.2 pounds per week the last month, and every 2nd or 3rd week, I’ve had a gain. If I’m truly down almost 4 pounds by Saturday, I might have to temper the loss by wearing heavy clothes to the weigh-in. It could be funny, going to WW with all my clothes on, since it’s supposed to be 46 here on Saturday, which will feel like swimsuit weather. So for the first ‘nice’ day of the emerging spring, I’ll be in 3 sweaters and chest waders, refusing to take my shoes off to weigh-in.
No, no, no. I won’t do that. The whole point of this exercise is to be real, and to take the ups and downs, just as they are. So if I somehow slip into my goal weight on Saturday, and then next Saturday I slip right back out of it, then I’ll start my 6-week maintenance test at another time. According to my plan, I was going to hit 160 pounds at or around the time that I’d be in Florida. We’re scheduled to leave on the 23rd, which is 17 days away. I’d love to board the plane at 155, but it’s not likely, and that’s okay. I’m going to a WW-friendly environment, and I’ll be more active on vacation than I usually am at home, so all that will help. And I’ll be at my goal soon enough.
In other news, I had a conversation with Maria the Spectacular (WW Leader) last week about switching my goal weight to something lower. I had this idea that she’d been disappointed in my original goal. To my surprise, she balked when I tried to change it. “You look skinny,” she said. When I pinched the octopus to prove that I still had weight to lose, she pointed out (politely) that since I’d lost so much weight, I might always have that pooch (NO!!!). We agreed to leave the goal weight where it was, and see what happened once I reached it.
Maybe the octopus will always be with me, but I still think I can get it to 150-pounds instead of 160. But if I keep my goal at 163, I can get to Lifetime faster, and figure out what maintenance is all about. Right now, it looks like more points and more calories, which is terrifying, but I will not be deterred. I will learn how to take this as a long-term journey, even if I hate it at every step. I won’t; it’s more the fear of the “plus” sign in front of my weekly weigh-in that scares me. But it does not define me. Well, actually, it does. But I’m hoping that putting myself through a ‘gain’ will show me that it doesn’t.
Convinced yet?
Referencing last week and my post, I think I might have had a Good Stress Overload moment, or maybe a little bit of extra PMS. Oh, happy day. But I’m feeling much better, I’m back to realizing that my life is good, good, good, and thank you to everyone who offered support, commiserations and anecdotes to help me get my mind off of things. Now I can concentrate on finding a wedding dress, or at least doing a fair value comparison of the in-house stock, so that I can contact my seamstress and get to working on my actual gown. In the mean time, Lynda the Nanny-Goddess brought over her dress for me to try. It’s a bit small (it’s a 6), it’s a bit short, and it’s white, but it’s free, and apparently it gives an Irish woman lots of good luck if someone borrows her wedding gown. That might be the reason to use it right there.
She said that I could alter it, but wow, that’s a big thing. She doesn’t have children yet, but she might some day, and I’d hate to have to make her give over the Tall Girl variety to her wee one, just because I couldn’t make it work. I’m taking it to the seamstress to see what she says about the charges to alter it, and make it longer. Once I hear the price tag on that, I can make my decision about made-to-order bride’s wear. Thanks again to Jeanius for helping me through that process. It’s really amazing how much I just don’t know about women’s wear. And I wasn’t even a lesbian for all that long.
The next big thing in the honeymoon. Howard and I had decided on Vancouver and then shelved it because it’s on the lip of the rainy season. We threw Europe around, but I loathe flying, and when you factor in 4 hours over an ocean with no place to land, I start to white-knuckle. Next came the southwestern corridor (AZ, NM, Mexico), but since we have no real idea of what’s available in Mexico, which resorts are couples/romantic vs. family-friendly, and whether we’ll be shot while sunbathing (always a bad thing), that got canned. So did all the Caribbean islands, since it’s still technically hurricane season, and NO, I do not care that it’s almost over by then. It just takes one 300 mph wind to wreck your whole vacation.
So that pretty much leaves Florida and Chicago. I hear both places are nice.
I can’t believe that it’s so hard to think up some place to go and be with my new husband. But maybe it makes sense. It’s like my frigging dress: it’s nothing, just a vacation, but it’s also everything. Puerto Rico is on the table, as is Monaco. Yep, I know; one is in the Caribbean, and the other is in Europe. I am nothing if not full of contradictions.
Ah, at last: something convincing.
A the B(elow 160, however temporary)
posted by Former Fat Girl Gone Skinny | 2:21 PM
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