Okay, soooo. Remember that post last week about how I was NOT giving up and NOT giving in and I was all BACK ON THE HORSE and you could practically hear the Rocky theme playing? Was that just me, with the imaginary music?
Anyhow. I meant it, I swear I did. It’s just that…gar.
When I was a kid and I whined, my parents would say in a breezy tone, “I can’t hear you when you whine.” I remember vividly swallowing hard, wrestling with my voice to conquer the whine. That’s what I’m doing right now.
It’s HARD, y’all. Just a few weeks ago I was in CHARGE, master of my diet, warrior of the gym. The numbers were moving steadily in the right direction, and it felt good.
But now? I’m in one of those low spots that life hands you sometimes, and now I’m…not so much in charge. Every morning I intend to get back to the level I was working at before. Somewhere along the way I just lose that. I forget what I’m doing, and when I remember, I discover that I haven’t been actually doing it. I’d say I’m operating at about 40% these days. Maybe.
I’ve also developed a disconcerting habit of buying chocolate whenever I’m buying anything else. Anywhere. Chocolate is available at an AMAZING number of businesses. I don’t know WHY I do that, and I don’t always eat the chocolate, but I sure am buying a lot of it. In case you’re wondering, having a metric ton of chocolate in the house is NOT ACTUALLY HELPFUL if you’re trying to lose weight. I’ll pause here a moment to let that wisdom soak in. Breathtaking, I know.
So here I am, muddling along (which is not the same thing as giving up, but not the same thing as the Rocky theme song either). I’m pretty sure the scale has stalled, although I couldn’t tell you for sure because (wait for it) I forget to weigh myself most mornings. *eye roll*
But at least I don’t seem to be gaining back the weight I lost, which is progress of a sort, right? And since I had lost some weight, back in before-land, I noticed that my pants were a little loose. There was a sale, I had a coupon, eh. Might as well get some new pants, right?
I ended up getting two pairs of jeans and one pair of slacks. They are one size above my for real true size, but they fit well. They look good. It feels good.
After trying on all the cute pants and selecting the lucky ones that were coming home with me, I slipped back into my own jeans. They looked suddenly silly, they were so baggy. I could actually slide my arm down inside of them and grab a handful of fabric at the top of my thigh to make a pants puppet. Ahem. Not that I DID such an undignified thing. But if I HAD, it would have said something like “LET ME GO! I’M NOT YOUR SIZE! WE’RE JUST NOT RIGHT FOR EACH OTHER, SKINNY GIRL!” Pants puppets always tell the truth.
Some of you may be familiar with the motto “Progress, not perfection.” (Nods knowingly.) Tonight, with my cute new dark wash jeans all ready to wear tomorrow, I’m there. Perfection isn’t an option these days. Competence isn’t even a steady expectation. But dammit, I am making progress.
And I’ll take it.