Phase II

I weighed in this morning.

I did not need my coffee after seeing the number on the scale. That alone was a big wake up call. A slap to the face. With a baseball bat.

212.something.

After the first 3 numbers I kinda blacked out in a rage only those struggling with weight loss might understand.

Rage.

Against myself.

Against the machine…. Errr, the scale.

That number symbolized my laziness. My lack of motivation. My lack of will power.

It showed a of my hard work last year was almost halfway erased.

For what?

Type 2 diabetes, fo sho. {because that’s inevitable if I keep this up}.

So I thought….

Why not start fresh?

I always use my start weight as 234.6 {my post baby weight}, but I keep seeing that total weight loss decline…..

So why not use today’s weight?

I mean, who {besides me} is really counting?

And so here I start…

Weight loss mission: phase II

Real Life:I have an eating addiction

I ate today.

Nothing special, right? We all eat during the day.

But me, I didn’t even realize I was eating until after I was halfway into a box of Annie’s Cheddar Bunnies.

I. Didn’t. Even. Know.

I didn’t even taste them. I just ate to eat. Out of habit. Much like a smoker just lights up a cigarette. An unconscious moment. A moment of habit. An automatic response.

I sat back and thought about today. Yes, there have been lots of stressors here lately, but is that an excuse to turn to food?

No.

So how does one change?

How do I stop?

Then I thought some more.

I want my son to be proud of me. To look at me as a role model. As someone to be there for all the important milestones in life.

If I keep eating that way. I won’t be there. I’ll be on my way to developing type 2 diabetes and all the lovely complications it brings with it. I’ll be unable to keep up with him, play catch without getting winded, unable to chase after our goats, unable to fit in the auditorium chairs, unable to climb the bleachers to watch him play t-ball.

Unable to………

It resonates in my head. The images. The words. His voice.

The time is now.

I must fight for myself. For my healthier self.

No more selfish mindless eating.

No more.

210.8

That moment when you’re in denial. Then that moment when reality smacks you in the face, knocking you down then kicks you with steel toed shoes.

Or, as I like to call it….

stepping on the scale.

I knew it wasn’t going to be pretty. I really did.

But it damn near brought me to tears. {ok, I’m lying, I shed tears}

I’m at a loss right now.

and it flipping sucks.

Short of never eating again, I don’t know how to get my ass back in gear.

And that makes me sad, angry, annoyed, and scared.

MIA

Trip to Montreal was filled with gluttony. And almost 20 miles of walking in ONE DAY.

I expected a gain (and got one), knowing it was probably water weight (thanks sodium!).

And took a few days to regroup.

I decided to go with myfitnesspal for a month. No straying. Honest tracking. Good choices.

And so far it’s awesome.

I’m not sure, but I think it’s a mental game right now. I need to focus more on food & less on the points. Or atleast learn to love them.

But right now this seems to be the path I mentally need to take.

I felt better, physically & mentally this past week. I’m making good food choices & seeing my calories, carbs, proteins & fats all fall at my set guidelines. Which is encouraging.

So we’ll see what this month brings. But I NEED that month of solid one-way tracking to see results.

Then reevaluate.

The Struggle Is Real…

Here I go again {on my own}…. sorry, couldn’t help myself.

But seriously.  Here I fucking go again.

WW youre killing me. I’m really trying to make good choices.  I swear I am. But it seems no matter how hard I scrimp & save my points, my efforts are futile.

Which leads me to be discouraged. Frustrated. Annoyed. Defeated.

Because my points tracker has confirmed that I was ‘bad’.

I’m annoyed.

And struggling.

Why can’t this be easy?

I Got Angry…. With Myself….

I sent this email to Chrissy….

So I decided to do the best I can this week with eating right.
Montreal is what it will be… Lots of walking & food.
Monday is super prep, then hardcore that Tuesday.
Then I got angry….
Before she even responded… I sent this…
No. You know what…..
I’m going hard core tomorrow.
I can’t keep getting in my own way & making excuses (Montreal).
Fuck this shit I’m starting tomorrow

 

Followed by this:

I just can’t keep making excuses…. And this whole ‘Montreal means eat like a fat pig’ isn’t good

I got out of my own way.

I’m in my zen/happy moment. Happy to get back on track.