Getting back on the wagon.

I woke up on Friday morning for work (yes, I had to work on Good Friday…it was a bummer) with a killer sore throat and a voice that sounded like Patty and Selma from The Simpsons. I also just so happened to have an important meeting on Friday afternoon wherein I needed to give a presentation. Awesome! By the time the meeting rolled around, my voice had improved only slightly, but I got through the meeting.

By the time I got home, I was exhausted. It had been a long and emotional week as I dealt with some family issues, so by Friday I was totally spent. I went to bed at 7:30 and didn’t get up until 8 the next morning. It was glorious!

Saturday morning I felt only slightly better, but I knew I had to be productive anyway. I had two weeks worth of laundry to do and 30 bridal shower invitations to make (more on that soon).

But first, I decided that I needed to face the scale.

I didn’t want to go to weigh in. I knew it wasn’t going to be good. The week before I went to Pittsburgh was terrible, and although I didn’t totally blow it that weekend, I knew the damage had been done. Combine that with the fact that I didn’t do so hot Wednesday through Friday of last week AND the fact that I haven’t been to the gym in two weeks…yeah. It wasn’t going to be pretty. I was actually on my way somewhere when I approached the highway exit where Weight Watchers is located. At the last second, I decided that I needed to go.

The thing I’ve learned through my multiple attempts at Weight Watchers is how important it is to keep going – even after a bad week (or weeks). I need to go step on that scale to make me fully realize the consequences of my choices. So many times, when I had a bad week I would allow myself to skip a weigh in to save myself from the disappointment on the scale. I would promise myself that I would do better the next week, and that the next time I weighed in, the scale would be down. Except that I wouldn’t do better next week, and then I wouldn’t weigh in, and the cycle would just continue until I re-gained everything I lost – and then some.

I became so afraid of seeing a gain on that scale that I just avoided it completely. I guess I thought that if I didn’t acknowledge the gain, it didn’t happen. Yet, I’m sure that I knew subconsciously that I had gained. You can’t eat fast food and huge quantities of candy every day and expect to lose weight. But it was hard to go to Weight Watchers after a week of not following the plan and admitting not only to myself, but to the lady who was weighing me in, that I had fallen off the wagon.

Over the past two weeks, I gained 1.8 pounds. I had prepared myself for about 4 or 5 pounds, so I was pleasantly surprised. And in reality, that gain is actually probably more like 1.3 or 1.4, as I had eaten and drank water before I weighed in, which I never do. Still, a gain is a gain.

Today, though, I am back on track. I have two months before I go on vacation and three months before my friend’s wedding. I’m not going to try and do the math and figure out how much I need to lose a week in order to lose a certain number of pounds before then. I’ve been there and done that, and it’s only set me up for disappointment when I didn’t lose what I was “supposed” to lose.  So, I’m just going to focus on doing what I know that I need to do and go from there.

How do you get back on the wagon after you’ve fallen off?


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