SHOES AND ALL
5 June 2002
I considered not having breakfast before going to WeightWatchers this morning.
I also considered taking off my shoes to weigh in, like almost everybody else does.
But I realizedyet againthat this is not a diet. It's a lifestyle
change. And the weigh-in is not, for me, primarily to fool the scale into thinking you've
lost more than you have, but to provide a consistent week-to-week record of how I'm doing.
Win or lose.
So I had my breakfasteven added two pieces of toast, which I don't usually have,
and I got on the scale wearing my shoes, as usual.
And yes, I gained weight. Only 0.2 lbs, which is almost nothing, but still the scale
went up instead of down.
Serendipitously (like that word?), the topic for today's meeting was what to do when
you have a "lapse." It was extremely supportive, in talking about how everybody
has them, and how to pick up and move on from a bad week end.
That supportive talk, together with all the wonderful e-mail and guestbook notes I've
had from people with encouraging comments to make about my weekend "slip" have
kept this little "oops" from becoming a reason to throw in the towel.
That's been one of my big problems throughout my life. One slip up and it's all over
for me. I was an A and B student all throughout my grammar and high school and struggled
with classes when I got to UC Berkeley. When I began getting harassed by a professor and
dropped his class because I didn't realize I should have been reporting the jerk, I knew I
was about to fail my very first class. For me, that meant that I had failed college. I
might as well give up on all classes. I passed one class that
semesterFrench pronunciation, because the grade was based on comparison between a
recording made at the start of the class, and one made at the end. Since my French
pronunciation was already pretty good, I was graded on the one recording.
But it was the end of my college career. That one F. I'd blown it. No hope for me ever,
When I got upset with my dentist, I gave up. I would never see a dentist again. I would
stop brushing my teeth. I would just give up on my teeth. (Thank goodness my present
dentist was willing to work with me 20 years after I made that ridiculous decision)
Every time I've gone on a diet, the first step on the road to going OFF the diet is a
weekend like this past one. One little mound of whipped cream and might as well give up.
No chance. Might as well give up.
That's why I'm doing it differently this time. That's why this isn't a diet.
It's a lifestyle change, and into each lifestyle, sometimes whipped cream may fall.
The trick is to do what I'm doingget back to the club, get back on the bike, get
back to the journal and record every bit of food that passes through my mouth. Next week
it will be different. When you stop going to meetings, it's too easy to skip the next and
the nextand next thing you know, you're not going at all. I've taken care of that by
paying ahead 20 meetings, so I'm financially tied to WeightWatchers for the next 15 weeks
I didn't make it to the club yesterdaytrying to finish typing. It would have been
easy to sleep in this morning as well...missed one, might as well miss two. But I didn't.
I got up. I got on the bike. I biked to the club.
(The odd thing was that I was the only one!!! I had the club essentially to
myself for most of the time I was there. I don't know where everyone else was. Even
Superwoman, who almost never misses, was not there.)
So it's a clean slate, a brand spanking new food journal to fill out for the week, and
time to get back on the routine again.
The exciting thing about today is my new t-shirt arrived. I am now officially a
"boob." I'd post a photo here, but there is Big News coming about us
"Boobs," and I'll wait a couple of days until the time is right.
(...I always seem to be waiting "until the time is right.")
Stay tuned. "The right time" is coming.