695 days, 5 hours, and 93.2 pounds to go...
Yep. It went UP.
As I expected. As I posted that I expected.
That's 3/5ths of a pound more than last Friday.
The truth I'm facing: I am letting portions go up. I am not saying no as often as I should. I let some of the worst carbs creep back in (white rice, white crackers). I restrained myself--I really, really did. No bingeing. No insane portions. Just...too much to adequately bring loss.
It was laziness. It was losing focus.
I'm facing another truth: I don't understand my body this week. While washing my face this am, and seeing a clear view of my nekkid and just-woke -up self, I looked thinner. In my middle. I was staring at my torso and thinking, okay, something has gone down here.
But Mr. Tanita says otherwise. (ie, my brand of scale)
But what I wore yesterday neeners the scale.
So, I got the tape measure.
While I'm up 3/5ths of a pound, my waist is down 1/4 inch. This jibes with yesterday's wardrobe. I finally fit in my goal jeans and wore them out yesterday--with red shoes and a red tank top and red lipstick and red nail polish to celebrate the NSV. Felt great to zip them up, button the two buttons, and see that they fit perfectly. Size 22. At my highest, I wore sizes 28-30. So...
WTF? I'm up on the scale but into the goal jeans. And the waist is a tad tad smaller. And I can SEE my naked body has shifted some.
I get an idea. I go get a nightie I bought that didn't fit. (I have bought so many goal jeans, nighties, and dresses, it's not funny. And usually never made it into them in time to enjoy them while in style. Now, I only buy classics as "goal clothing".)
It fits. I'm wearing it as I type. Looks good. Hubby says it looks good.
One clue may be from my training session. I felt strong yesterday. Stronger than usual. I got asked by two men if I needed help carrying my huge box of fruits and veggies from the coop. I thanked them and shooed them off. 'No, thanks. I'm strong.' And I was.
I had no problems with the heavy box, AND my heavy shoulder bag.
My trainer commented on how my strength and stamina are up.
So, maybe it's the muscle-fat thing. Maybe some muscle has switched places with some fat.
I know I didn't eat enough to gain even one pound. I ate enough salt to gain 5 pounds, sure, but I didn't. (I suspect yesterday's treasure trove of veggies and fruit supplied potassium to balance that a bit.)
So, whatever. I did NOT meet goal. I am behind schedule. Not acceptable.
I have gotten lax again, and I did not continue reading my motivational materials (the books on change and such), and I caved to cravings here and there .
I remember spending years in the 270's, futzing up and down. I don't intend to do that in the 250's. I haven't been here long, and I don't plan to be. Fewer than four pounds are keeping me from leaving this "decade". I won't be defeated by them.
And in fewer than 8 pounds, I can leave the "morbidly obese" category.
I've also faced another truth even more soundly: I can change my habits. And by doing that change "our" habits (hubby's and mine).
Hubby and I normally go out and eat up the town on his days off (he's off today, he's off Monday, yay! Boinkarama calorie burnoff time!) If I had said, "Let's go out for Italian" or Mexican or whatever, we would have been out there, scarfing. I'm the one who reads up reviews and suggests new places. So, if I only choose healthful places with good choices, I affect both our healths. I affect our weights. (Hubby is only mildly pudgy (as you can see in his pic in a previous post) while I am a barn.)
I seriously looked at him for a second, thinking, yes, I can get him to go out for bagels and omelettes. I quickly knocked that down. I'm talking a matter of 5 seconds and my inner rational dieter said: "No. Go make him something lean and healthful and go make your own meal, too."
I did just that. I made him lean turkey fricasse over some rice and peas (he loves rice) with a fresh apple, and I had my low-carb breakfast with coffee. I had some papaya with lime for 1. taste 2. enzymes 3. nutrients 4. anti-bloat potassium and 5. its color makes me happy.
We were both satisfied and we both did our bodies a service by not overeating.
And we saved moolah.
So, the truth is, eating less means I spend less, and that's money I can use for something healthier for me (paying my trainer, buying my vitamins, saving for retirement).
Truths: I gained weight. I failed the Prime Directive Goal. But I met other goals--fitting in those black jeans, saying no to some temptations, wearing this nightie with comfort-- and had behavior modification victories that tell me I am changing.. I'm very pleased with the latter items--very--while sad about the first. No, not sad. Mad. Mad at me.
Can one be glad and mad at the same time? Yeah, looks like it. :)
But next week, I plan to be very pleased with myself. So...there it is. Truth.