I've been weighing myself every other day or so lately, for damage control I guess, since I've been away from home so much. Today I hit a new low, a weight I haven't seen in three years.
In 2002, I started a physical weight-loss journal and included weekly photos. I kept it up for a year, and lost about 25 pounds. I felt great, was wearing smaller sizes, got lots of compliments and then hit a wall. Even though I was eating properly [I was following the Weight Watcher plan at the time, and was an online member], and exercising, nothing was working. I stayed the same for an entire summer and into the fall. Eventually, of course, I became discouraged at what seemed like an endless plateau and started eating.
And eating. And quit exercising quite so diligently. I never completely gave up intentional exercise, but I certainly reduced the intensity and frequency. The combination of a greater quantity of less-healthful food and less activity got me almost to my highest weight ever in December, 2005.
I didn't want another year of feeling crappy, looking crappy and being crappy, and somehow managed to realize that it might take a long time to achieve my goal. And I was okay with that. This was a complete attitude shift for me; no longer did I want instant results. I got it that slow and steady wins the race.
So here I am, at the same point I was in 2003 when the scale started moving back up again. I'm forced to be even more diligent and resourceful. I have to find new ways to reward my efforts and reinforce my progress. I feel a mixture of anticipation and dread. I know I'll continue to eat right and exercise, but will my body cooperate? It's let me down before. Or, rather, being a recipient of much therapy in the past, I've let me down before.
My other journal was private; no one else has ever seen it. I suppose my kids will find it when I die, if I don't pitch it before that happens. This blog journal, being public, keeps me accountable. I would go so far as to say it has made the difference. No [wo]man is an island; those of you who read regularly, comment occasionally and cheer silently are helping me, who lives an isolated life in the Middle of Nowhere, in ways you can never know.