DIETING DOESN'T WORK.


That is all.


But seriously, it doesn't.


Yeah, I've been away.  Busy "dieting."  Whatever.  
More to the point, "going through the motions" of dieting.
On February 4th of this year I weighed 158.0 pounds.
Today is July 24th, 2013.  I weighed 153.8 pounds this morning.
Which means I've lost a whopping 4.2 pounds in 170 days.

 OH.  MY.  GOD.

Technically, anyone on this planet is supposed to be able to lose one or two pounds per week if they eat a healthy diet, exercise, and consume less calories than they burn.  So I guess the proof is in the pudding here.  (YUM, pudding.......!)  If I had been religiously eating a healthy diet and exercising as much as possible, resulting in two pounds lost per week, I should weigh roughly 105 pounds after 170 days. 

 Clearly, I am slacking.

I have also been slacking with my blog posts here.  The reasons for that are many and varied, but the biggest reason always ends up being a lack of free time to just sit down and write.
I love writing on this blog, and when I've done it in the past, it has always helped me in the motivation department, even though very few people read this besides me.  I almost always finished my post and then went on to have a really good, productive week.  I was trying to write at least once a week before, and in a perfect world, I'd still be doing that.  But life isn't perfect right now.  Quite the opposite, actually, but I'm not here to dwell on the things that drag me down.

 I'd rather try to somehow pull myself up.  I need to figure it out.  I need to find a way.  I have some great support in the form of family members and friends who try to motivate me to stay on-track with my attempts to eat healthy and get in shape.  I am insanely grateful to them (you know who you are) and I hope they never give up on me, just because my scale hasn't shown much in terms of success.  I still need the support.  I desperately need the encouragement.  I am at serious risk right now of just saying FUCK IT and just throwing in the "healthy lifestyle" towel.  I'm worried that I may be slipping so far down into my current depressive state that I won't be able to turn it around.  I'm supposed to want to do this for ME.  For my health, for my happiness, so I can just be healthier and happier and a better person in general on the inside and the outside, and in turn that will help me be the best possible Mom to my kids.

 That sounds AWESOME!  So WHY is it so hard to DO???

I need a goal.  Something concrete to work for.  I was thinking yesterday that my impending 45th birthday could serve as a decent day to shoot for to reach my goal weight.  It is 55 days away.  Can I lose 28.8 pounds in 55 days???  That's a little under 8 weeks away.  I would have to lose about 3.7 pounds PER WEEK until September 17th.  My goal weight is 125.0 pounds.

 Can I do that???

I have to try.  Because NOT trying isn't an option.  At least not yet.  I have not thrown in the towel yet.  Quitting isn't something I've done very often in my life.  I don't like to fail.  In fact, I hate it.

I suppose that's the real reason I'm so depressed (and as a result, constantly sabotaging myself by bingeing...).  I'm sick of FAILING in my attempts to stick to a healthier diet and over-all healthier lifestyle.  I have random times available to exercise, but I make constant excuses and skip workouts instead of just getting off my ass.  I pig out at midnight even on the days I felt awesome because I made it through a Zumba workout.  I sabotage all the good I do manage to achieve, with crap-food calorie-fests and undeniable laziness.

Why???

WHY can't I do this???????

 

A New Year...& A New Beginning!!!

A New Year...& A New Beginning!!!

 

What year is it?!  2013, right???
Wait a minute...

Did I just sleep for more than a YEAR???
And I only lost ONE pound during that time???

INCREDIBLE.

But seriously...

A lot has happened in the twelve+ months I've been slacking...  

First, since starting this blog on September 20, 2010, I managed to lose 24.5 POUNDS!!!  I started at 159.0 and got down to 134.5, specifically for my 25-year high school class reunion in July of 2012.

Today, I weigh 158.0.

 

Yes, it is sad, but true.  In a little over two years, I lost 24.5 pounds - and gained back 23.5 of it.

So why am I back here, you may ask?  Why am I sitting down tonight, of all nights, and dusting off my keyboard, and taking another whack at a blog about LOSING weight, when I so obviously SUCK ASS AT IT???????

I don't know.  I wish I had a better answer; I just don't.  I could give you all of the usual reasons:

"My clothes don't fit."
"I have zero energy."
"I hate the way I look."
"I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired."
"I need a drastic change."
"I'm depressed from years of yo-yo dieting."
"I just want to look great naked."

They're all true, every one.  So, yeah.  All of those reasons.

So I'm sitting here tonight, trying to think of something prophetic to say.  Something inspiring.  Something that will make ME jump up when I'm done, and run right to a treadmill and sweat for an hour with a big goofy grin on my face.

I've re-read this blog a few times.  The truth is, I don't have anything new to say, or anything incredible to add.  How's THAT for un-inspiring?!  JEEZ.  Waa waa waa.

But literally, it's all here already.  I have known for years and years and years HOW to lose weight.  It's the DOING that's tough.  I know this is a huge advantage that I have.  I've already DONE the research; I've already MEMORIZED the calorie content of literally every food on earth, and I know how many calories I will burn, with whatever form of exercise I may brutalize myself with on any given day.

The tough part isn't even finding the willpower to avoid crap foods or fast foods or unhealthy foods - I am fortunate enough to be able to honestly say that I PREFER the tastes and textures of the healthiest foods I can get my hands on, 99% of the time.

A lack of information or education about diet and exercise and metabolism and HOW to lose weight is not my issue.  Normally, a lack of willpower is not my issue, either.  I don't feel like I'm ruled by cravings or unable to avoid foods I shouldn't eat.  Some days, a lack of free time will get in the way of exercise for me - but most days, if I'm completely honest with myself, I can find the spare hour SOMEWHERE.  So, lack of free time is rarely my issue.

No.  My only issue now, after two+ years of yo-yoing (again), is a crushing lack of motivation.  Where do I find lost motivation?  If I don't give a shit personally what weight the scale shows, then...WHY TORTURE MYSELF?!  WHY should I do all of the necessary things one must do to shed pounds, if I simply DON'T CARE?

Personally, WANTING to lose the pounds has never been enough.

WHY???

Because I WANT a can of COKE even more than I want to lose the pounds.   

I WANT a huge plate of vermicelli (RIGHT NOW, in fact...), dripping with real butter and fake Parmesan cheese.

I WANT a pizza, all to myself, frosted with bar-b-que sauce, and piled with pineapple chunks and sweet onions.

I WANT a half box (OK, OK...a FULL BOX) of Peanut Butter Capn' Crunch for dinner, with WHOLE MILK.  Or better yet, HALF & HALF.  (No, I am NOT JOKING).

I WANT a huge bowl of air-popped, white popcorn, drizzled with melted real butter and salted profusely.

I WANT a bottle of Barefoot Red Moscato.  Now.

I WANT every salad I eat to contain so much cheese, avocado, bleu cheese dressing, and BACON that I can't see the lettuce.

I WANT an Everything Bagel with drippy globs of plain cream cheese from Big Apple Bagels.  Every morning.

I WANT a bowl (SCREW the little cups...) of cake batter ice cream from Cold Stone Creamery, infused with chocolate shavings, chocolate syrup, flaked coconut, fresh raspberries, and at least 7 maraschino cherries.

I WANT a steaming hot vat of Navratan Korma, accompanied by a huge slab of garlic naan, all the basmati rice I can eat, and a bowl of kheer for dessert.

I WANT cream cheese on every slice of apple and every stalk of celery that passes my lips.  Forever.

I WANT English muffin toast with real butter and creamy peanut butter (the fake kind, with all the added sugar...), every morning.  After my Everything Bagel.

I WANT CAKE.  And, COOKIES.

I want DIP on my chips and DIP on my vegetables.

I WANT CHOCOLATE.  Preferably in the form of chilled Cadbury Creme Eggs, year-round.

That is all.

 

So.

Where does one find motivation when they're as (obviously) obsessed with food as I am?  As I have ALWAYS been???

I have searched everywhere for mine.  And then, 72 hours ago, I just...found it.  It was there all along, in the most unlikely of places.  In WalMart, to be exact.

 

Have you been in WalMart lately?

Yeah.  SCARY.  I have always prided myself in the simple fact that I wear clothes when I shop at WalMart, rather than pajamas and slippers.  Even in the middle of January, there are always a few shoppers wearing SLIPPERS in WalMart. 

This night 72 hours ago, I walked into WalMart looking the worst I have EVER looked in WalMart.  So of course, this would be the one night where I was destined to run into someone whom I would not want to see me looking ragged, disheveled, and flat-out exhausted.  (I'd had a hard day, OK?)

My ratty condition all but guaranteed that I would see someone I knew.  I was half-way through my task when I rounded a corner and came face-to-face with a guy I'd known 9 years ago, back when I had no worries about weight, and fewer worries about grey hair and wrinkly skin.  I quickly spun around and made a bee-line to...anywhere else.  I couldn't tell if he recognized me when he glanced my way, and I silently prayed that he had NOT.  More than anything on earth, I did NOT want to see anyone I knew, looking the way I did! 

I found myself trying to speed through the rest of my shopping, but as my luck would have it, EVERY time I rounded another aisle, there he was.  After this happened three or four times, I realized he was trying to catch up with me.  He had seen me, and recognized me.  Oh. My. God.  WHY?! 

So I accepted my fate and sure enough, he came zipping down the next aisle and said, "Hey, I know you!"  I did the obligatory greeting and the "Oh, yeah, long-time-no-see..." and I pretended to hear what he was saying, and I pretended NOT to be mortified by the fact that I was running into him looking the way I did:  squidgy and lumpy and just... awful.  I looked and felt awful.  And after the guy walked away I stood there, still mortified, and at that moment... I found my lost motivation.  

 

Funny where we find these things, yes?  I would not have guessed that bumping into an old friend and having them see the extreme changes in my appearance would upset me the way it did.  But, it did.  A lot.  I don't want to hide in WalMart.  I don't want to run away from people I used to know, just so they won't see the way I am NOW.  I don't want to be ashamed of my appearance.  I don't want to go home from an encounter like that one and eat a huge bowl of Capn' Crunch because I feel so wretched, so miserable, so dejected. 

I want to look better.  I want to feel better.  I want to find my energy again.  I want to wear cute clothes.  I want to be excited for summer.  I want to be comfortable and confident in my own skin.  I want to be proud of myself for accomplishing something I KNOW I can do:  losing my extra pounds.

And yeah, I want to look great naked, too.