Finding perspective...

Before packing up for Hawaii, the universe threw me a bone.

My last WW meeting was specifically about keeping on track on vacation. My leader--who is fabulous!--told us from the start we had three options--the first was to stick to our program completely. Stay within our points, weigh, measure and journal. Odds are, you do that, you'll lose weight when you come home. But understanding that most people don't want to work that hard on vacation, she offered us a compromise, option two.

Option two was to eat whatever we wanted, in whatever quantity we wanted and to not worry about counting anything. The catch? She wanted us to journal. Inevitably, the act of writing down what you eat keeps you on track. You'll reach for the chocolate chip cookie, but the idea of writing it down in your journal just might stop you from eating it. She suggested this was a pretty good vacation strategy and that most people who use it either maintain their weight or have a teeny, tiny gain.

Intriguing? Sure. But who wants to spend their vacation lugging around their WW point books and stopping to write everything down. I didn't. I wanted to escape my life. Completely. I waited for her next suggestion.

Option three was just my speed. Eat whatever you want, drink whatever you want, and don't journal and don't count. BUT try to make better choices. Go for the grilled chicken instead of the fried. Reach for the fruit instead of the chocolate at dessert. The key to option three though was that you had to be completely willing to accept whatever the scale said when you came home. Odds are, with option three, you're going to gain weight. And that could be a slippery slope. After two weeks of undisciplined eating, some people just extend it to three weeks, four weeks and never really get back on their weight-loss program.

But I knew my vacation was going to be just that--a vacation. As soon as I came home, I'd get back on track. So I set my goal--go to Hawaii, follow option three and do my best to keep my weight gain to a reasonable, manageable number. I told myself for 10 days in Hawaii, including a seven day cruise, if I could come back with a gain of two pounds or less, I'd be happy.

So I tried to eat reasonably. I enjoyed every dinner but opted to go lighter at breakfast and lunch. I exercised. I enjoyed every minute and every calorie. (There was one night in particular that involved a chocolate mousse dessert and an entire bottle of riesling....it was nice!). But yesterday was time to face the music.

Since getting home, I've been back on track (save a side order of fries with my McDonald's salad the other day, sigh) and yesterday, I stepped on the scale wondering if I'd met my goal. Turns out--I had.

I gained 1.8 pounds on vacation. That's it! I was thrilled! At first, the weigh-in lady couldn't understand why I was so happy to have gained weight. Then I told her--I was back from a 10-day vacation in Hawaii, that included a week-long cruise.

Suddenly, she understood. And she actually said I'd made quite the accomplishment, that that small of a gain was actually pretty remarkable. I could only smile. I KNOW that! Talk about being willing to accept whatever the scale said...

I think it's the first time in my life I've ever been able to see the scale go up and know it's okay. It's the first time in my life the scale has gone up and I haven't flipped out. I wonder if this means I'm finally starting to accept the the scale is not an enemy. It's not a friend either. It's just a machine that takes a snapshot measurement of one small part of my life.

I know as long as I keep staying on track, keep exercising and continue to eat sensibly, I'm going to get this weight off. It's amazing how motivated I am--it's a motivation I haven't felt in forever.

I just need to keep that going and realize that like the tags in the clothes I bought before vacation, the number on the scale is just that...a number.

It's just a number....