Big Girl Panties

This weekend I hit rock bottom. I had transformed from my werewolf state back into my normal self and I still couldn't couldn't shake the werewolf appetite. I was still eating junk when I wasn't hungry. Granted, we had a bunch of Halloween candy to munch on and Casey made us all Halloween bags with Halloween treats in them. I didn't work out at all. On Sunday, I did have a bit of a nap and slept off a nasty headache. Usually my attempts at resting are thwarted with thoughts of things that need to be done - errands, cleaning, working out. But not Sunday. I just allowed myself to rest in my big cozy bed and it was so amazing. I think my body really needed that. But I was in an awful funk the whole weekend.

I weighed in on Saturday and I was pleasantly surprised that I had only gained one pound. I shouldn't have gained any, but seeing as how I was expecting at least a five pound weight gain, I'll take the one. But as the weekend progressed, I just felt worse and worse. I had pretty much decided that I was just never going to lose weight and I might as well just give up. What's the point? My blog is a seesaw of joy and pain, energy and lethargy. I go for weeks writing almost everyday and then I slack off and I go for days without so much as a "Yes, I'm still fat" entry. Who am I kidding?

And then, last night, I had to go buy a suit for my 2nd interview at work. Again, I tried on a size 18W pants and again, they were too big. I thought last time maybe it was just the brand running big and with a different brand I'd need an 18W, but I was wrong. I couldn't find a 16W so I sucked in my gut, averted my eyes from other shoppers and headed to the Misses section. Yep, the normal people section. I tried to pretend like I totally belonged there and put on my best "No, I'm not lost, I really wear this size!" face as I grabbed a size 18 (minus the W) pants and rushed off into the dressing room. Believe it or don't, they fit! Yep, they fit. I was in shock and awe. I felt much better all of a sudden. I know I still have a long way to go, but to see the cold hard evidence that I'm actually losing weight was so reassuring.

Today, I had my annual exam with my girly doctor. Last time I was there (a year ago), she told me that I could lose 30 pounds by my next appointment, no problem. Of course, I've been dreading this day for a long time. I knew there was no way I had done it, especially with the past couple of weeks going the way they had been. But, I was hoping I'd lost at least some weight because my scale at home has been telling me that I have. I got on the scale that resides under the sign that declares "Put on your big girl panties and deal with it!" That always makes me chuckle and it always makes me feel better. Not only is it funny, but it reminds me that there are other women out there who hate getting on the scale as much as I do and that is comforting. I saw my weight, which was more than it is at home but I was also wearing my clothes and that scale never agrees with my scale. However, I couldn't remember how much it was when I was there last year. I thought for sure it had to be less than last time. When the nurse had finished asking her usual questions, taking my vitals and I was wrapped in the cozy hospital gown, open in the front with the oversized paper towel draped over my legs, donning my black dress socks, the doctor came in with my chart. After she asked me how I was, she said, "Well, your weight looks good!" I was dying to know so I asked, "What was it last time?" She replied, "237." WOOHOO! I wanted to jump up and scream "YESSSSS!!!!" while I was striking a rock star pose. No, it wasn't the 30 pounds she had predicted, but it was 20 pounds I wasn't expecting. I felt rejuvenated. I felt happier. I felt like I was back on the proverbial horse again. She told me that my BMI was 37 and she doesn't like that. She showes me her little spinny wheel thingamajig that says how fat you are. She said for my height, she would like for me to be at 150 pounds. I thought to myself, "That's fine with me!" When she left the room to let me put my clothes back on, she said, "Next time I see you, you're going to look great!" I told her, "Yep, hopefully I'll be at 150!" SHe said, "Even 170 would be good for you." So, she's given me an attainable goal. 50 pounds in a year. I'm really hoping I can be at 150 the next time I see her.

Sleeping With The Enemy

I have been horrifically bad this week. I’ve done the unthinkable and I come to you tonight to confess my sins. It is that time of the month for me this week and as you know, that is the only time I really crave chocolate. Usually, I would shun the creamy sweetness of chocolate for the salty goodness of popcorn in a heartbeat. However, that one time of month, it’s like I’m a werewolf and the inner monster in me rears its ugly fangs. The weird thing is, I haven’t even had the deep down irresistible craving for chocolate like I usually do when I’m a werewolf. My brain just kept telling me to eat and eat and eat and not to be prejudiced towards the sweet stuff and eat that, too. I ate when I wasn’t hungry. I ate chocolate when I didn’t crave it. And as a good friend of mine recently said, “I almost ate the plate that my food was served on.” My boss has a Halloween bucket of chocolate sitting on her desk that she keeps refilling. Normally, when I eat chocolate, I eat one small piece and my craving is satisfied. However, this week the beast in me was eating 2 and 3 pieces at a time. I was eating ½ cups of M&Ms in one sitting. I don’t do that! Too many sweets make me sick and I just did it anyway. I took a freaking bowl to bed with me last night!!! TO BED WITH ME!!! Chocolate is the enemy right now and I certainly don’t want to be sleeping with it at this point in my life! It was like food just had no affect on me. Only, I know that’s not true. I know that come Saturday, it will have had a HUGE affect on me. I can feel a good 3-5 pound weight gain this week and it’s enough to make me want to puke. And with that, I bid you good night and sweet dreams – no pun intended.