I swiped the pic from this blogYesterday I threw a 'toys out of the cot' sort of a tantrum. That's what it felt like from the inside. From the outside, it probably just looked like a sitting-on-the-couch-eating-pizza sort of sulk. I was getting my pants in a twist over a perceived lack of speedy progress on the fatloss front. I am currently completely on target. I figured out a nice, flexible nutritional plan that, along with some appropriate butt moving and muscle flexing, should get about 500g off my jiggly bits every two weeks. This is precisely what is happening and yet I had a 'moment' where my patience went all thin and wispy and I felt all hard done by and like this situation of being slightly chubby has been going on for far too long and I want to be finished and done with it, already! Somehow this translated into 'let's have pizza for dinner'. That's because when I start telling myself how fat I am, I always start to act like a fatso. I do lard-inducing things, like scoff too much chocolate and find that there are 4 straight hours of un-missable tv that inconveniently clash with any time-frame available for exercise.
After I finished with the pizza consumption I got out my journal and did some navel gazing. I think what is most grating at me is that this is the same fat I was losing at this time last year, and recently regained fat just seems so much more like a guest that has turned up without warning and outstayed their welcome by several months. There is also the ever present temptation to just go on a strict diet, make myself miserable for several months and be done with it. The only thing that prevents me doing that is the certain knowledge that, for me, that approach is doomed to failure and is also not what I really want or need, deep down. What I need to be doing is exactly what I have been doing... developing a lifestyle that includes sanity with food and lots of fun exercise. It's the only way for me to avoid a fast slide back into the binge-starve cycle, which I'm sure you will agree, is a most fun-sucky* way to live.
To funsuck v. = to remove the fun from, as if one had sucked the fun out, lipo-suction style.
I so know how you feel! I say ride the pizza wave and enjoy every cheesy mouthful. I view these blows outs as kinda like a mental health day - you need them every now and again to keep yourself sane. You're doing so great and you inspire lots of other people in the process with this great blog so don't beat yourself up. misspip x
ReplyDeleteOy! Rule number uno - no funsucking allowed.
ReplyDeleteI think what you need is a day of shoe shopping, bubble baths and reading trashy mags. Huh, sounds good - I might come and join you.
*hugs*
Hey Sara, - I just wanna comment that I think you are fantastic, and are doing awesome!
ReplyDeleteDamn those bloody scales and measuring devices. It's frustrating! 0.5kg isn't what I consider a 'weight gain', - maybe you're just not as dehydrated as your previous weigh in or your food hasn't broken down the same, - pardon that pun!
At risk of sounding stupid, (and at risk of sounding disordered saying this) I am often highly surprised and pleased after I weigh myself the following morning after about 3 wines. Wine has that dehydrating effect I spose that looks better on the scale, (up to a kilo) - and for me works well as a cleansing type of laxative unintentionally LOL when enjoyed occasionally, better at that than fruit and fibre! Of course that's not the reason that I occasionally decide to indulge in wine etc, - but it's a good added bonus!
Keep up the fabbo work!
Pip