Holy shit.
This morning was weigh-in. I was praying that I didn’t at least gain weight. I haven’t been the greatest this week. Bryan and I ate out three nights. I made smarter choices when eating out, but still… I was eating out.
And Friday we had this potluck thing at work. I ate like a hog. A freaking hog. And then I felt guilty. And then I realized that it was the first time I had eaten like a hog in six weeks.
Then yesterday we had pizza. Mine was made with fat-free cheese. But, dude, it was pizza. And then I had two beers last night when I went out with Kat.
For weeks now I get a message every Monday morning from Weight Watchers congratulating me on my weight loss, but warning me that I’ve lost over 2 pounds, so I should slow down a bit – eat all my extra points. As you can see, I took them up on it this week. Ate ‘em all…. every, last, one.
I even let up a bit on my exercise. Not to slow down my weight loss, just because I was preoccupied. I still worked out three times at the geriatric social club, but left most of the walking of the dog to Bryan except for Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Those three days I must have walked about ten miles with the dog.
To re-motivate myself, I sat down yesterday and made a chart for the next 15 months based upon losing two pounds a week. There are color-coded, incremental goals on the chart every few weeks – milestones that include holidays, pounds lost and body percentage lost. Smaller, immediate goals are helpful instead of having to focus on the huge, huge task ahead of me. I started the chart at last week’s weight, 273, fully anticipating that I would be roughly that this morning at my weigh-in.
Okay, okay – hoping that I would be that this morning at my weigh-in. With all that eating out, and the pizza, and the pot luck, and the beer… well, I was just praying that I hadn’t gone up.
And damned if I don’t have to redo that whole fucking, color-coded chart now! Stepped on the scale and lost three pounds last week. Three! That brings me to a total of 27 lbs. lost-to-date!
What the fuck?
I guess it just hasn’t sunk in yet that this Weight Watchers shit works – even when I stretch it to the max.
Well, I should go now. I have a chart to fix…
