It’s amazing how in control you feel when you track what you’re eating. It’s also amazing how something as simple as writing it down can seem so impossible when you’re in a funk or you just don’t want to put in the effort. For me, the last few months have been a little bit of both. I’ve mentioned in previous posts that our living situation was really uprooted there for a few months — me having to go from making food for the hubby and tracking everything to making stuff just for myself.
It’s a sad fact, but I don’t put the effort into anything if it’s just me. I got off track with writing down what I ate and pretty soon I was tracking once or twice a week. My weight crept up about five pounds and the 2.5 months since moving has been a fight between gaining and losing the same 3 pounds. Well, I don’t know how it happened, but I got pissed off.
Pissed off that I was STILL in the same boat I’ve been in for the 2, almost 3, years on Weight Watchers. Sure, I’m 25 pounds less. But really?! In 34 months I lost a whopping 25 pounds. What a waste of time and money. The rut/cloud/funk I’d been in finally drifted away about a week ago. Then I found numerous challenges to join — which I mentioned in the post Hello, 2013! and I finally started to do the fundamental things Weight Watchers teaches members. I tracked every single day — I had a major disaster with a plate of brownies over the course of 4 days, which brought my weeklies to an embarrassing -53 PPV. But you know what? They were tracked and accounted for — that’s more than I’ve done in weeks.
Finally, I’ve been feeling better. More in control. I’ve gone to the gym three times this week and earned a few points with my Active Link. It hasn’t been much, but I’m just trying to get into the mindset where I need to go and workout. I’ve been trying to get in at least 64 ounces of water — some days it’s more. The great news is I’m down 1.4 pounds this week, even though I was -53 weeklies. This week should be much better, as I won’t be making any desserts to be tempted with for the time being.
I’m turning 30 in a few weeks, and I’m determined to get this fat suit off by the summer. I literally spent my entire 20s unhappy, overweight and depressed about how I looked — I’ll never get that time back. I’m certainly not going to let another decade slip out of my fingers.