Weigh-In Wednesday #3

Oh, Wednesday.

Again I am excited to see the numbers drop on the scale...and I'm not sure what to expect this week, because I haven't been hopping up on the scale EVERY morning.  This is intended to be better for me so that I don't get discouraged if I see the numbers go up or if they stay the same.  This is what JC recommends, and what I'm used to doing..for the most part...but it kills me just a little.  I am a perfectionist, and he's given me a huge goal for this month...so to relinquish some control was not easy.

Starting weight:  292.1

1st weigh-in:  286.8

2nd weigh-in:  280.1

3rd weigh-in:  276.4

That's a drop of 3.7 pounds this week.  Not bad, not bad...why am I so disappointed?  Total loss in 3 weeks = 15.7 pounds...and I should be rejoicing as that's an average loss of over 5 pounds per week.  All I need to do now is drop 14.3 pounds next week to attain a 30 pound drop this month.  Gaaaahhhh...sometimes this is so frustrating.

So, what happens now?  How do I pick myself up after not losing an astounding amount of weight?  Don't get me wrong, I'm happy with a loss...but as always, I have high and somewhat unrealistic expectations and that sets me up for failure sometimes.  However, I have a perfect way to counteract this...no, not by trying on clothing that I don't think I can fit into in my closet (that'll come later).  For now...I need some perspective.

This is a pound of butter:

I have lost almost 16 of these.

This is a five pound bunch of carrots:

 

I have lost over 3 times this much!

And this is a 15 pound cat:

 

I have lost a rather large feline...and at least 3 mice on top of that.

Attitude adjusted.  I'm ready for my day.

Don't let the bastards grind you down.

I’ve been blogging backwards…a bit…trying to get everything sorted in the right order.  It’s a bit weird, because just when something amazing happens that I want to write about, I think…”Oh, I should really write about last Monday when I met with my dietitian.”  But what I have to say right now cannot wait…this is important.

I got a message from a high school friend the other night, he’s a personal trainer, and it simply said:  “Sneak a bit of brown rice into ya.”  Now, I have really, really changed the way that I’ve been eating, and I may have been bragging via a certain social media site that I had “skipped carbs with dinner” and then mentioned that I was going out after that for another workout.  He just reminded me that I needed fuel for said workout…and it reminded me of my power struggle…this is harder than I thought.

Food is power to me.  If I control food, I am in control…and that goes both ways, overeating AND under eating.

Here’s an interesting side note…excuse me while I go on a tangent…my spell check thinks that overeating is spelled correctly, but that undereating is not a word.  Now what does that say about the evolution of the English language?

This is not the racehorse, this is Tulsa..crazy jumper pony.

When I was super fit in high school I restricted calories and dropped down to 109 pounds or so, but I never thought that was good enough.  I was a serious and dedicated equestrian training a young racehorse to compete over fences, a half-back with a killer drive storming the field with the first 11, I helped start the first women’s soccer team my school had seen, I was the spirit-filled Caister-Mackenzie house captain, and if I wasn’t doing something sporty, I was singing and dancing with the drama troop.  I had a rockin’ bod…and you know what?  I thought I was fat.  I would look into the mirror and turn to the side and grab my stomach and pull it flat.  I would look down at my muscular thighs and curse them for being so “big.”

This is not a pity party.  I hostess a lot of parties, but I will never throw one of those!  This is a full-on rant.  

If you are reading this and you happen to know a teenager who’s into all the right things, tell them how amazing they are every day.  Encourage them to keep it up, and talk, talk, talk, talk to them about everything.  Tell them they’re beautiful and that you love them for being exactly who they are.  My parents and friends did all of that, and it only took a couple of stupid boys to tear my self esteem to shreds.

And teenage boys, if you’re reading this, man up and tell those gorgeous girls just how wonderful they are...I don’t care if you’re scared.  Tell them.  Tell them, and you’ll be a hero...not only mine, but theirs...for life.  Who says nice guys finish last?  It simply will not do to tell that girl 20 years later after she's lost the thing that she never knew she had.

It's so cliché, but if I could have a conversation with my teenage self I would tell her keep on keeping on.  Eat healthy, stay active, think positively, go for it, trust in yourself, and don't let the bastards grind you down. 

Eoin, thanks for telling me 20 years later...you'll never know how good that made me feel.

"Get it back girl!"

I will.

Procrastination? Who? Me?

There are new blog entries in the archive.  I wrote things out of order...form your own conclusions.  I'm prepared...haha...