Wednesday Weigh-In

Well, I'm "down" another .4 pounds this week. That is all.

What were those quotes for, you ask? Oh...them.

OK. I fudged my weigh-in a bit this week. Just a bit. When I stepped on the scale at the WW clinic, it read 175.2. That's a .2 pound gain. And that bummed me out--I mean, I've lost weight the last three weeks and now my "losing" streak was coming to an end. It completely made sense; I wasn't good about drinking water yesterday or this morning, so I was probably retaining some (especially considering the time of the month). I haven't run for the past four days (my daily stomach ache came back with a vengeance). Also, I made delicious pumpkin cookies on Monday night and yesterday I ate FIVE. I could not. help. myself. They are SO good, SO light, with the perfect blend of spices and a frosting that just melts on the back of your tongue. I'm salivating here, at mah desk, just thinking about them. And at 2.5 points/cookie, they're a great treat option...provided you don't eat five a day. Here's the recipe. Enjoy responsibly.

And let me just clarify: when I say I ate five, I do not mean I ate them all at once. That would be ridiculous. I only at four at once.

The other I snuck before breakfast.

All this to say that a very mild gain wasn't a complete shock for me. But I was deflated, and the woman weighing me in saw it. "Take off your sweater," she said. I considered her for a minute, with a sly look, then ripped off my ID badge (surely worth a few ounces) and my cardigan. As I waited for my weight to register, she told me that jeans are the worst type of pants to wear for weigh-in, and I nodded along, "Yeah, these jeans probably weigh like five cookies pounds." My weight came up.

174.6

OK, it didn't really count. I should be able to weigh in with what I'm wearing that day--I always do. But today I needed a loss, so we fudged it, and I was prepared to move on.

Except that when it came time to recognize successes (my meeting group lost 80 pounds total this week!), I found my name on the list at the 25-pound mark. Dang it! I've worked so hard for so long, had so many great weeks, and then I get my 25-pound award on the week when I fudge my weigh-in.

I was sitting there, holding my 25-pound key chain charm, beating myself up for being a fraud. And then it dawned on me: I really have lost 25 pounds. I wasn't wearing my ID badge or a sweater the first time I weighed in. And if I wasn't already so close to losing weight this week, taking those things off wouldn't have made a difference. Even if I had to fudge it, I know I didn't really gain this week. I probably stayed the same--and you know what? I've been so close to the 25-pound mark for so long, it's about damn time I get my charm. So I choose to enjoy this moment as a success, and move on. I've got to keep up momentum, which means hitting the pavement again tomorrow and making smart food choices. I can make this a banner week. I know I can because I've done it before!

And those five cookies? Totally worth it.

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