Yo Mama

Since I am the queen of yo-yo dieting I am trying to remember the things that worked for me in the past to try and make this weight loss 'program' work.

Most important...set goals. Not I want to lose 100 pounds by my high school reunion. That can be your ultimate goal, but you have to take baby steps. For me it's the Decade Rule for setting goals. My friend Joann  and I used it quite successfully. It allowed us to share our weight loss information without, God forbid, divulging our actual tonnage. So if I weighed 172 and lost 3 pounds (like that would ever happen in a week but we're pretending here) that was extra good because you were now in the 160's instead of the 170's, in another 'decade' so to speak. Going into another lower decade is huge (bad choice of words) ... but to set 10 pounds as a goal is far too much so I go 5 pounds at a time in hopes that I will spend more time congratulating myself than being in disbelief that yet another week has passed and I have not met my goal.

Seriously, realize that this is basically the way you need to eat forever. If you go back to your old way of eating you will be fat. You can't graze, eat candy bars, mow on whatever and expect that it's not going to end up putting the pounds back on. Even if the scale isn't showing it 'this week' it will eventually catch up, first 2 pounds, then 4, and so on and so on until soon you're ripping thru your closet hoping you didn't get rid of every pair of fat pants cuz you can't hardly breath in the ones your in.

Only weigh yourself once a week. That's it. No more...no less. If you weigh yourself more than that you aren't getting a true reading because weight fluctuates daily. And if you're like me you will use the information on the scale to either go, "Yes! I lost 2 pounds! I can have cheesecake!" or the other scenario "WTF? Are you kidding me? That's crap I might as well eat cheesecake since this isn't working". If you weigh yourself less than that you can pretend that the twinkies don't count because last time you weighed yourself you were the same ... except last time was 2 dress sizes ago.

When I started this diet my first goal was to lose 21 pounds which is when I started this blog. That was a big number to shoot for but it was the lowest weight I was at since I moved to Maine four years ago. So now that I have reached that my next goal is a very important 'decade' goal and it's only 5 more pounds away. Easy right?

Well today is Monday, my weigh day. I lost half a pound. That's it. I am minus 22.5. That equals a eight loss of 1.5 pounds in how many weeks? I've had the gain week, for no reason I know of, the back down week that should have been back down and then some, then the stay the same weeks. Am I ever going to lose a whole number? I did the math ... at the rate of one half stinking pound per week, I will achieve my goal in 14 months or on October 31, 2011. Did you get that? Two Thousand Eleven. It's not even October 2010, we're talking a little over 30 pounds. People loose over a hundred in a year!

Well I guess I will quit my bitching, be happy I didn't gain weight and go eat my zucchini.

 

 

I have a love/hate relationship with Sundays. Mostly love, because let's face it, it's a day not at work. But around 6PM at night the sinking feeling of all the fun being over starts to seep in. I've had that feeling ever since I can remember. And thanks to that damn ticking clock on sixty minutes I always knew when it was 6PM and the day was pretty much over. 

When I was young bed time on a school night was 8:30PM, funny that was the single rule we had in our house, we HAD a bedtime. Not surprising, no doubt my mother couldn't wait to get rid of us so to speak. Anyway, 6:00 was so close to bedtime and Sundays were always bath night. After that off too bed and then voila! Monday morning and time for school. I wasn't a big fan of school until high school when I had my 'group' of friends and suddenly boys liked me.

Sundays now for me are the day before WEIGH IN day. Which means I have to be extra extra good. Which is kind of odd since I am pretty much always 'good'. Every once in a while, and I mean once in a while, I have something not low calorie. But on the weekends, and particularly Sunday I am ultra conscious of getting on the scale the next day. Even though I have pretty much been sticking to being 'good', it doesn't always show on the scale. I can't tell you how unbelievably frustrating that is. For anybody who doesn't believe it, let me assure you that is it waaaay harder to lose weight the older you get. 

If I don't gain weight I am content. Well, for a minute I go thru the wtf! stage but then realizing that gets me nowhere I just stay content knowing that another week will fly by and that week will be the one that makes the difference. My goal is one stinking pound a week. And sometimes I can't even get that. 

I have high hopes for tomorrow. I've had 2 weeks in a row staying the same. Last week I went to the gym 3 days and this weekend I worked outside both Saturday and Sunday and stayed in the 1600 calorie range every single day this week. If I had to grade myself I would give myself an A. We'll see ... still minus 21 and counting today, Sunday.

Plus Size!

I can’t count the number of times that I have gained and lost weight; gained and lost weight; gained and … you get it. Each time I embark on the weight loss adventure I promise that (1) I will keep going until I reach my goal and (2) I won’t ever gain weight again because it’s sooo hard to lose it. Obviously I have failed at both.

I’m just gonna say it … I am going to lose 55 pounds and not gain it back … ever. She says while praying to the Fat Gods...but we won’t get into my views on prayer, darn I can’t help myself … if prayer worked so great I would be tall, thin and blond and not only that, I would always be able to locate my keys.

I am now minus 21 pounds. I have 34 pounds left to lose. After 21 pounds of lard removed from my body people are starting to notice. Everyone says after they lose 10 pounds they go down a size. Hello, 20 pounds later I have dropped a (read one) size, not 2. Although to be honest I have never been a slave to the number on my clothing tag. If I were, I probably wouldn’t be wearing clothes with a number in double digits. I don’t think in my adult life that I have ever been less than a size 10…ever. Damn those Kavanagh big bones!

For me the ‘horrification’ seeps in when I become cognizant that I actually buy my clothes in the PLUS size section. Really? Plus size? Ugh. Let me relate it to you this way. A certain young lady (Christine) was shopping with her father in the Plus size section (can you feel me suppressing snide ex-wife comments) when she had just learned how to read. Maybe it was her reading ability, or maybe she was just attentive to her surroundings? It could have been the miles of fabric draped from hangers or seeing women who were waaay beyond anything pleasantly plump (as if there is such a thing) squeezing through the aisles that prompted the question. In any case,the story is that little Christine, at the top of her lungs yelled, “Does Plus size mean FAT daddy?” From what I understand 'daddy' was mortified at the volume that these words possessed. And after quieting Christine down he did his best to explain how that was offensive. This coming from the man who suggested to me the other day that the gym called 'Curves' would me more appropriately named if it were called "Rolls".

Just in case anyone is wondering, let me put your mind at ease ... I assure you that yes indeed, 'Plus Size' means fat!