HYC Update: A “blip” and now moving on

Happy Tuesday, Everyone!

I find it incredibly ironic that on the same day that I can proudly post 25 pounds gone, I also have a confession to make.

Some of you might’ve seen the writing on the wall.  I know that I did, in a subconscious way.  First I wrote last week about being bored.  Then I indulged in a glass of wine at Sunday dinner at my parents’ house.  Add to that some financial strain that’s going to occur next month, and the fact that my house seems so alone without Lulu.  And yesterday I told LC that I was really craving McDonalds, but she discouraged me, telling me how sick I would get.  And then I went to Target to pick up a few household essentials, along with a bunch of junk food.

I filled my cart with Tater Tots, hot dogs,  TGIF sliders, Pepperidge Farm cookies, and ice cream. But this episode was different from any other “binge” I’ve ever had.  I had one slider, about a cup of Tater Tots, 2 cookies, 1 hot dog, and less than a 1/4 of the pint of ice cream.  Somewhere in between bites of the junk I realized a few things:

1. It didn’t taste that great. In fact, it was pretty gross.
2. I didn’t want to completely screw up all the progress I have been making.
3. I was feeling literally sick to my stomach after just a bit of it.
4. I was disgusted with this addict behavior.
5. I was so physically uncomfortable that I just had to STOP.

I literally had a bit of each thing and then just threw it all out.  And then I threw out all that was leftover in the fridge and freezer.  I’ve never stopped myself like that before. So this is progress.

The other big sign of improvement is that I’m sharing this with you.  In the past whenever I’ve binged I kept it to myself, or possibly told Scale Warfare about it, but that was it.  And it would’ve been easy for me to just avoid this blog.  I thought about it, asked SW about it, and then followed her advice (and my own gut) and decided to lay it all out here.  Because if this blog is my chronicle of my journey to health then I have to be honest about time times I stumble along the way.

And that’s exactly what I’m considering last night – a brief stumble.  I’m not going to beat myself up about it.  In fact, I’m actually glad that it happened, in a weird sort of way.  It shows me that I’m still working through things.  That sometimes I will still turn to food.  But that I am in control of what I do.  And that I have enough sense to prevent major damage and derailment of all that I’ve accomplished.

This morning is a brand new day.  Last night is behind me, and I am not  going to dwell on it.  Today I am going to be on plan and back to it.  I have a friend coming over with her new puppy, which will be fun.  Then I have a bunch of other errands to do, and so I’ll be busy.  And I’m planning on ending the day with some time at the gym with LC.

Tomorrow the scale is going on Spring Break along with me.  You might call it avoidance (and you might be right), but I call it giving myself a pass.  I know it’s likely to be ugly, and rather than feel bad about myself, I’m just going to give myself this week off and make sure that next week I see really good numbers.

As Tina pointed out in her comment, I used to avoid the scale all the time whenever I’d have a bad week.  And if I do that again, that would be feeding that pattern of behavior.  So, here’s what I’m going to do – I’m going to get on the scale tomorrow, but I’m not going to make the weigh-in post public.  That way, I know where I stand and I’ll know what I have to do to move forward, but I can keep the info private.  So tomorrow’s blog post is going to be password protected, and only I’ll have the PW.  That way, I can still keep a record of what happened, but I’m the only one who will know the results.  Because I’ve made progress, but I guess haven’t made enough progress to post a gain on here right now.

I hope you all have a great week –  I know I will.
My attitude will lead my actions and my actions determine my success.

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A confession

So, I have a bit of a confession to make.

Wednesday I was supposed to go to my new WW meeting, just to get a feel for the new center.  I had worked out on Monday and Tuesday, and Wednesday was set to be my “off” day so that I could attend the meeting.  Sometime on Tuesday night I told myself, “why go to the meeting on Wednesday? It’s not time to weigh in until next week, and since you’ve been doing so well so far this week, just sleep in.”  Which is exactly what I did.

Which led to a bit of a backslide.  Wednesday afternoon I was starving after school.  I was supposed to go to my old high school for a 20th reunion planning meeting.  Instead, I headed to Safeway to buy some food for lunches (salad greens, veggies, etc.), which I did buy, but I also bought Karamel Sutra from Ben & Jerry’s.  This is my all-time favorite flavor of B&J’s, by far.  I haven’t had it in so long, and I thought I’d “treat” myself.  I had all of these excuses in my head about why I “deserved it.”  And you can almost guess the rest.  I ate it, felt shitty afterward, and beat myself up over it.

I should’ve woken up on Thursday morning and paid for my backslide by working out even harder at the gym, but I didn’t.  Nor did I go on Friday.  Instead, on Friday, I went to a TGIF and had 2 beers.  No biggie, perfectly fine under normal circumstances, but I knew that I was continuing down a slippery slope.  After the happy hour I headed to my neighborhood gourmet grocery store and bought fresh pasta and pesto sauce.  And bread.  And had way more than I should’ve for dinner.  Oh, and I also bought some delicious and decadent cinnamon bread.

Saturday morning I helped myself to several slices of the cinnamon bread, knowing full well that I should’ve had some oatmeal and a yogurt, or some cereal, or a whole wheat English muffin and peanut butter.  Something with a bit of nutritional value.  But I didn’t.

I felt disgusted with myself for most of the day yesterday.  I canceled drinks with a friend because I felt like I had nothing to wear.  I didn’t want to go out and pretend to have a good time when I was feeling so badly about the self-sabotage I had inflicted upon my weight loss goals.

I did make it to my parents’ house to give them the gift my sister and I had planned for their 40th wedding anniversary.  I had no makeup on, and felt as fat as could be, and then it happened.  My mom complimented me on how great I was looking.  She said I looked wonderful, she loved my sweater, and that even with no makeup on, my face looked beautiful.  She could tell how much I’d been losing and said I should definitely go and buy some new jeans because the ones I had on were way too big.

Just like that, I was snapped out of my depression doldrums.

Later last night I made a fairly healthy dinner of some Progresso soup and a nice salad.  I drank water.  I started feeling like my Wed-Saturday afternoon slip up was just that, a minor setback and nothing to get overly dramatic about.

I woke up this morning and the sun was shining – literally and figuratively.  I made coffee, read the paper, had some heart-healthy oatmeal for breakfast, checked out a few blogs, and felt a renewed sense of strength.  I would not let 3 1/2 days of bad choices define who I was or what I was trying to do to improve my life.  I wouldn’t let it get the better of me.  I was (and am) determined to achieve success on this weigh loss path, and I’m not going to let anything or anyone stop me – not even myself.

My plan for today was to grade a bunch of essays that I’ve been avoiding.  I haven’t been doing any school work on the weekends at all, but because I have Monday and Tuesday off for Veteran’s Day, I figured I could use today to catch up on all the grading.

I still plan on spending most of today grading those essays, but I’m also going to make sure I get in a workout.  I know it will make me feel better.  Just like writing this confession has.  I’ve owned up to my mistake, and now I can put it behind me.  In writing this, I’ve forgiven myself.

This just shows me that while slipups may occur for the oddest reasons, it’s how you deal with the aftermath that makes all the difference.

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