There are a bunch of things that I need to blog about. But for the moment, I’m taking a moment to share a thought about weight loss.
Here is my a line graph of my weight from the past year.
I’m pretty good at losing weight, when I intend to.
I’m also pretty good at losing track of my intention and gaining it, too.
Lately, things have been going pretty well in that department. I had that half marathon a few weekends ago, and the training for that (provided one doesn’t use that as permission to face plant into a tub of pub cheese) makes it fairly easy to lose without being overly stringent with diet.
And losing usually begets more losing – for me, anyway – until something happens.
This past week, I had some things happening. More opportunities for boozing than usual. I took it easy for a few days after the half marathon. I didn’t get in a long run over the weekend. We went out for dinner a few times. It was a good week, with a lot of fun times. I didn’t do anything I regretted later. I didn’t make terrible choices. I just didn’t intend to lose weight.
And I didn’t.
And for the first time that I can remember, it was ok. I didn’t feel bitter or depressed or unmotivated to continue. I don’t have to post a loss every week. And I don’t have to feel badly about it when I don’t.*
*I have not turned into some zen acceptance master overnight. When I say that I didn’t lose any weight at my last weigh-in, I mean that I weighed in at the exact same weight as last week. Had that shown an actual gain, deserved or otherwise, you might be reading about my petulant pity and pie.
margaret edith 