Wednesday, June 07, 2006

On the edge

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.

Thank you.


Lynne in Memphis said...

Cheering silently -- and knitting.

Laura Bora from Bufadora said...

I hear you my "brothah from anothah mothah" (as my ex would say) -- also isolated in the middle of nowhere, years of therapy under my belt (as well as belly!), obsessively crafty, and holding myself accountable via blog.

It's like sharing...a problem shared is halved, and when YOU write you help ME too.