Monday, February 18, 2008

Fighting the demons...

It never ceases to amaze me.

No matter how long I've been on program, or how long I think I've finally conquered bad habits, I am stunned to discover this is all a life-long process. It is amazing how quickly all the good things I've learned can be thrown to the wayside.

It's been a bit of a downward spiral for me food-wise for three days. The reason for my bad behavior?

A bad run-in with the scale.

Seriously. Shouldn't I know better by now? How many times have I written "this is for life," or "The number on the scale doesn't matter?" Countless, countless times, right?

So why was it, that when Saturday came and I had yet another disappointing weigh-in, that I told myself, "The hell with it," and began stuffing myself with everything that wasn't nailed down?

After my weigh-in (Where I must say I stayed the same. Again.), I joined some of my friends for an outing to an Amish farm.

We had a great time...picked some strawberries and tomatoes. Enjoyed the fresh veggies. Had an all-natural milk shake. And then the real damage started. Apparently, these wonderfully kind Amish folks are great bakers. Herbed breads, cakes, cookies...and cinnamon rolls. Down went one cinnamon roll (at least they had no frosting...a small victory).

Then we went to a Mexican restaurant...down went the guacamole and the enchiladas. For dessert...another cinnamon roll.

For dinner, Mr. CCC and I made a late Wendy's run. I can console myself and tell myself the children's meal was a far better option than what the "old" me would have had, but let's get real. It was a burger. And fries. And yet another cinnamon roll for dessert. (Are you keeping track? That's one day)

Sunday was our belated Valentine's Day dinner...where we shared a fried risotto appetizer (divine, I confess). Filet mignon as an entree. Flourless chocolate cake for dessert. This wouldn't have been so bad--everyone deserves a splurge meal every once in a while--if we hadn't had more fast-food junk at lunch.

To say I've blown through my calorie allotment for the past two days is an understatement. And I honestly didn't care. In my mind, what was the point of sacrificing? Of exercising? Of passing up what I really wanted to get the healthy stuff?

I've been doing all that for well over 16 months. I have lost a grand total of 33 pounds. I'm no math major, but that doesn't even come out to a pound per week. Considering how overweight I am, how much weight I have to lose, you can start to imagine why I'm bothered by this. You can imagine how my heart breaks when I see people who weigh less than me telling my how much weight they've lost; how they never exercise, how close they are to their goal weights. Internally, I start to cry and beg the gods of weight loss to please, please, let that be me.

So this weekend, I gave up. I quit. I said "To hell with this," and ate whatever I wanted, however I wanted.

And this morning, I woke up with a stomach ache. My body begged for healthy food. I kept thinking to myself what a good option a salad would be. I went to Taco Bell instead (At least I talked myself out of too much junk...I had a 9-point Fresco Chicken Bowl instead).

I'm leaving tomorrow for a week-long business trip. Because Mr. CCC and I are as usual, incredbily behind on the laundry, I had to run to the mall to get a few basics. And standing in the fitting room, I grew even more ashamed of my behavior.

Because despite what the scale told me--or didn't tell me this week--I've gone down another size.

In jeans.

You know, jeans. Those pants made with denim, that material that rarely gives? I almost started to cry. My body is changing and I'm not paying attention to it. Instead, I'm paying attention to a number. A machine made of cold plastic and metal.

I tried on a top...yes, it was cut very generously...but it was a medium. The XL and the large swam on me.

Why do I keep torturing myself with the scale? Why do I continue to let that little machine make me miserable? And why, when it doesn't tell me what I want it to tell me, do I still run quickly to whatever food I can stuff down my throat?

It's bad behavior at its worst. It's bad habits rearing their ugly heads. It's me, not believing in myself.

That has to change.

If I continue to pressure myself the way I'm am, I'm never going to conquer my issues with food or the scale. And if I don't do that, I will never succeed. And as I've written before, I have too much at stake to quit.

If only I could remember good times, and in bad.


Once Upon A Dieter said...

As Our Lady says: All is forgiven. Move on.

Seriously, you had a feast-o-rama. It's over. You've had an epiphany. Forgive yourself. Print this post and keep it handy for the next time you think you should give up. Adn move on.

You'll be okay. Even if you lose slower than most, you've been losing. 33 pounds. Sheesh, girl. That's a lot. It may have taken a year, but that's a year you didn't gain or stay the same. YOU LOST the sizeof a small child.

Be merciful and move on. :)

The Princess

Heather said...

Im kind of glad you had this experience so you know not to ever do this again! I think you realize finally, that the scale is really just part of the bigger picture of losign weight. I think dropping the sizes is wonderful and is proof of your hard work. dont sabatoge yourself or be ruled by a number. you need to start listenign to your body. it wants healthy food and you know it. and you have obvoiously lost inches, so pay attention! we all want the scale to reflect our hard work, however it is notorious for not doing that. so pick yourself up from this, and start watching for the more important things!

Erin said...

Wow, I need to print out this post and put it over my own scale in the bathroom. You're absolutely right about how silly it is to get manipulated by numbers on a scale.

And I know you've said this to me about a gadzillion times, but don't beat yourself up over your progress! You're a MEDIUM! Mediums are the best clothing size because hardly anyone fits into them, so you'll always have the best clothes in the stores. Mediums mean you've made huge progress, whether or not the little green numbers confirm that. You're doing so wonderfully.

You enjoyed your weekend (the fried rice just made me a little bit ravenous for it and it's only 6:30 am), you had good food and some good friend time, now move on. It IS for life, and sometimes life includes indulgent weekends.

Congratulations on getting so small. You're a real inspiration to me.

Teale said...

What would you say to one of us, or to me, if I wrote this? What would your advice & encouragement be? Pretend I wrote it & think about what you'd say. Then say that to yourself. You would urge me to keep going. You'd remind me that I am over 30 pounds lighter than I once was, and that no matter how long it's taken me, I've done it the right way & I'm making progress. You would tell me that the splurge days aren't worth it, and that you're sure I feel better physically & mentally on days I eat healthier stuff. You know what you'd say to me, so believe in yourself enough to say it to yourself!

FatGirl said...

I just wanna say that I totally know how you feel about the scale. I'm trying SO hard not to let the scale dictate my feelings.

It sounds like even though this has been rough you're back in the place you ought to be, so KEEP ON TRUCKING!

Oh_mama said...

I can hear your frustration, but try to remind yourself of this post. The smaller jeans FIT. The smaller top FIT. You are doing something right. Although, if I hear about you going to TB again, I may have to smack you. At least get some Pollo Tropical or some REAL mexican food. ;) Love you!