97 Pounds Lost, Week Two

I don't know about you, but when I made it to 97 pounds lost last week, rather unexpectedly, I sort of started thinking that I could be done by today (I always weigh on Thursday mornings).  Certainly, I thought I could be done by next Thursday, which just happens to fall conveniently two days before Christmas.  Visions of sugar plums danced in my head, "Yes! I'll be done before Chrismas!" What a great Christmas present for myself.

It's not unheard of to lose three pounds in a week. True, the "experts" say you should not lose more than 1-2 pounds a week to be healthy, but it's doable. Three pounds in two weeks could almost be considered standard. So I went into this week, the third since my diet reboot, gung-ho and ready to conquer it all.

Last Thursday (the beginning of a weight loss week for me) was our office Christmas lunch at the Cheesecake Factory, where I did splurge on cheesecake. However, I took half home and ate that over the course of three days.  So while I went over my calories on Thursday, Friday and Saturday I was back on track and very well-behaved, which is almost unheard of over the weekend.

Sunday morning I decided to weigh to see how close I was to my goal.  I have a rule that I should only weigh once a week.  Weighing more often really messes with your head. I know this. It has happened to me many times over the last 17 months.  However, the pull of the scale and the numbers means that I break this rule almost every week. 

So when I stepped on the scale Sunday morning and saw that I had gained two pounds, it made me angry.  Now, please know that I had just had two GREAT weeks of weight loss before this.  I lost more in those two weeks than I really should've, but I took it for granted, and it made me greedy.  These two pounds on a Sunday morning were probably just my body adjusting to the big drop the two weeks before. Still, it was a big deal.  Five pounds from my goal means definitly not before Christmas.

It made me angry and in the past, this would've given me the attitude of "What's the point of being good, if I'm not going to lose?"  If I'm honest, I did have that attitude Sunday, but I'm still close enough that the end is in sight and that, combined with laziness (there really wasn't much "bad" food in my house, readily available for me to eat), kept me from going wild.

Since Sunday, I've weighed every day.  (Which, for the record, I don't believe anyone should do. It makes you even more crazy.) I've also worked out extra, doing two workouts a day, three days this week (I also don't really reccommend this. It makes your body and your brain extra tired, instead of giving you extra energy.)  Each morning when I weighed, I was still up two pounds, so each day I was fighting the "What's the point of being good?" argument.  Somehow, I was largely able to stay on track with my calories.

So this morning rolls around and I have inexplicably lost the two pounds again. I'm at the same weight I was last week, 97 pounds lost.  This is good, but it means I won't be done by Christmas.  But really, what's the big deal if I'm done by Christmas or not?  I think I thought that if I was done by Christmas I wouldn've have to be as strict over the holiday.  The fact is, I'll really never be "done." When I reach this goal, I will set another weight goal (more about that in a future post.) Even when I get to a point where I am comfortable with my weight, I will still have to be careful with what I eat. The whole point is for it to be lost and never found again, right? 

So I guess it all boils down to, I put a lot of unnecessary pressure on myself this week for no reason. Does it really matter if I've lost 95 pounds, or 97 pounds or even 100? (Except 100 brings a wicked sweet reward.)
No. It doesn't.