I decided to sit down and see just how much weight I've lost since my derailment last November and compare that to how much weight I've gained. The results were fascinating, encouraging and discouraging altogether.
I've lost almost 20 pounds (19.8, precisely) since the week before Thanksgiving.
However, I've gained almost 19 pounds (18.8, precisely).
So since my unintentional but purposeful sabotage, I've netted a total of 1 pound loss since the 3rd week in November. FOUR MONTHS.
I've learned so much about myself since November, though. I had no idea I was sabotaging myself, to begin with. And also, I've learned that I can lose weight and I can be successful at it and it's okay to be a success. It's okay to be proud of losing weight. It's okay to be proud of my new body.
For those of you who might not have been with me through last year, I started my "18 Pounds in 18 Weeks Challenge" last July because I was only 18 pounds away from 100 pounds lost. The closest I ever got was 2.6 pounds away from 100. Then I sabotaged myself and it took me until just recently before I realized I was doing it. I'm now 4.8 pounds away from the ominous 100 pound mark, but I am going to get there this time. I am on the downside of this losing streak—in a good way. And I am going to make it this time.
I've been consistent in my exercise. I'm actually becoming addicted to the running thing. I just can't wait to get out there and run again. I want to go right now.
I've been writing down everything I eat for about the last month or so. Consistently.
And I've been drinking my allotted water every day. Every day.
My mental attitude has changed greatly, too. I now look at food entirely differently. I used to get so mad at that fact that I was going to have to eat this way for the rest of my life and I was never going to be able to eat the things that I really wanted to eat. But now, that's not even the point. I still love food. I still consider myself an addict. But I just look at it all differently now.
I look at food for what it really is. It's nourishment. It's comfort. It's sustenance. It's pleasure. It's necessity. It's all these things. But all in all. It's just food. It's not my life. My life does not revolve around food any more. Food is a big part of my life. It should be. Without it, I'd die. But it's no longer my best friend. It's no longer my lover. It's no longer my life-long companion whom I gave precedence over everything else in my life. Food is no longer the enemy either. It won't trick me or tempt me or make me fail at being a happy, healthy, beautiful person.
I'm turning into a different person. It's a better version of the real me. And I like what I see on the horizons.