We’ve all been there. You bust a gut all week and stick to your plan, keep yourself active and remain vigilant at all times. You weigh in, feeling pretty damn good about yourself and the scale pops up: 0.5lb off. Gee, thanks. Then there’s that irritating person somewhere that says “Better half a pound off than on” – when you know fine well that if the shoe was on the other foot, they’d be as pissed off as you are.
I’ve certainly been there many, many times. I didn’t expect to be there my second week back post-op. Yup. That was me yesterday. My week has consisted of painting, painting, walking dogs, painting, balancing on chairs/ladders/anything else that helps me reach high bits, a bit more painting and I’ve been sweating like a pig. For half a pound.
There are a few sensible schools of thought behind this. Everyone has their own ideas on why sometimes this just happens, even if you have been really, really good. I’d love to hear everyone’s half-pound theories. My personal favourite and the one I’m sticking to is that basically my friend Walter (For those of you who don’t know him, he is my ‘fat brain’ – the voice in my head who convinces me to make bad choices and enjoys seeing me miserable – you can find a picture of him here) has been having a no-holds-barred, full-on party (probably with strippers) for the last four months or so, and last week he got shocked right out of his fat induced euphoria. He is now frantically holding on to every ounce of fat he can, knowing that it makes me miserable.
Walter or no Walter, I have to say weigh-in has left me a bit deflated this week. I was hoping to hit my first half stone to give me a great start back, but I suppose on reflection I shouldn’t be disheartened. I only have one more week and I can start exercising properly, which I think will make a huge difference. When I exercise, I exercise. My WWs leader called me weird for liking spin class. I need aggressive, sweaty I-think-I’m-going-to-throw-up exercise or else I just feel like I haven’t worked. Push yourself properly in a spin class and you come out feeling like a superhero. That’s what I’m talking about.
So for this week, I’m just picking myself up, dusting myself off, and trying not to wallow in too much (counted) Jack Daniels. Maybe I’ll see my silver seven next week. Or maybe I’ll lose another half a pound.