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.