I’ve had my share of meltdowns over the last 42 weeks. Whether they be personal or professional, I can usually call one of my therapists and they talk me off the ledge. Last week, I cracked.
I am a serial scale user. It’s a HORRIBLE habit, I know, but it’s one that I cannot step away from. I weigh myself every day. I don’t weigh throughout the day, it’s always just in the morning. I was up 6 pounds last Sunday morning. Not a huge crisis as I did eat and drink things I shouldn’t have on Saturday while at the mother of all football games, Florida/Georgia. I knew that this day would be challenging and accepted it, which is why I prepped and worked out so much the prior week. Monday began the week just like all the others except I was still up those 6 pounds. Hmmmm. I kept working out, stuck to my eating plan and flooded myself with lots of water. By Thursday, those 6 pounds were still hanging around. This wasn’t phantom weight gain that sometimes shows itself after a late dinner, a carb fest, retaining water, etc. This weight gain was for real. I had no warning, no slow creep of a few pounds at a time. My body gave me a big eff you and gained 6 pounds. The only thing I can attribute it to is my recent obsession with oatmeal. I eat it every day. I love it. I used to HATE oatmeal and now I can’t go a day without it. I figured there were worse things I could be addicted to than weight-control oatmeal. Lies.
At last Wednesday’s spin class, it’s slowly sinking in that I’m legitimately up 6 pounds, seemingly overnight. We’re doing a climb and Amnesia by 5 Seconds of Summer is playing and I can feel tears welling up in my eyes. This is the LAST thing I need 4 weeks before my goal date. I feel like a fucking failure (sorry, ma’). I cried the whole way home from the gym. I feel so defeated. How am I ever going to get back to real life if eating OATMEAL makes me gain 6 pounds? I totally deserve to gain like 2 pounds after the weekend shenanigans but 6?! What did I do to deserve that?
I’m so tired. I’m so sick of over analyzing everything I do. I could spend all day researching my next step, tracking my workouts and food, and planning my life but I have a job and responsibilities. I wish I could live in a world where I didn’t have to think about food at all times of the day. Saying, “I wish I could eat whatever I want,” is completely unrealistic unless you have the gold medal of metabolisms. I do wish that I could take a day off and not feel like I’ve taken 6 steps back because of it. I cracked to my friends. I cracked on the phone with my mom that night. I will not make my goal. I refuse to do anything unhealthy or completely starve myself to try to lose weight quicker.
I slowly realize that sometimes things won’t make sense but you just have to roll with it. It sucks but this is where I am and life is going to keep moving. This particular week, my body decided that it wanted to weigh 216 lbs. For those of you who think there are magical secrets that I am hoarding and that weight is just melting off of me, you’re wrong. This is my REAL life and I struggle just like everyone. I put enormous pressure on myself with these goals by putting dates on the end of them. For a brief second, during the crack, I became old Sarah who doubted herself and let herself believe that she couldn’t do something. I can’t take the goals back and I refuse to stop trying just because they seem that much more out of reach. It’s Sunday and the 6 lbs. are gone. I’m back to sitting at 210 lbs. So, dear readers, while I probably won’t make my goal of 92 lbs. lost by December 4th, I do promise to not stop trying. I will make it to 199 lbs. sometime soon and, with the right mindset, it will hopefully be before ringing in 2015.
Say crack again.