I haven't gained it all back; I haven't gained it all back; I haven't . . .

Since I last wrote in February I've gained about four pounds. Hence, the mantra, "I haven't gained it all back." And, in fact, my weight is down from where it was in April.

So what's preventing me from getting back on program? I could offer a variety of reasons: foot surgery in April that has kept me off my feet and will keep me from getting much exercise until late June, still fighting fatigue that hasn't let up as much as I'd hoped with the latest increase in thyroid medication, allergies that were worse this spring, and so forth. But those are as much excuses as they are reasons.

I still attend weekly weigh-ins and meetings. I still believe Weight Watchers is a valuable, realistic way to lose weight. I just can't make myself stick to it. I've been here before and despite having gotten back on program in the past, I have no idea how I'm going to get back on. Oh, okay, I have some idea: I'll select a weekend where I will commit to re-committing myself to the program. I'll plan, prepare, and force myself to faithfully track.

I just hope that it will be easier to stay on that horse because I've already learned to ride.

Not Working

It's the dead of winter and I'm struggling. Intellectually I know what I need to do: track what I eat and move more. When did the intellect ever assist someone struggling with her weight?

This is an odd way to begin a post when the topic of this week's Weight Watchers meeting was positive self-talk!

Actually, I have been engaging in positive self-talk. I've been telling myself that despite having gained over 10 pounds since my WW low, I haven't given up. I still attend a Weight Watchers meeting every week and get weighed. I still attempt to track for as many days as I can. And I'm still trying to use my Points wisely.

The weeks and weeks of working 6 or 7 days & 50+ hours per week should be behind me. The note of doubt is because just as I was anticipating having true weekends, I had to fly out to Michigan to stay with my dad for three weeks. He took a bad fall and I went out there thinking I was going to have to arrange assisted-living accommodations for him. The good news is he's doing much, much better and can continue to live independently. The bad news, which is not really bad news relative to Dad's good news, is that I had to work the entire time I was there and I'm feeling just as tired and stressed as when I left town.

So now I have to start over once again. I worked long hours for so long that I'm having trouble letting go in the evening and on weekends. That's the first order of business. Once I'm comfortable not working, I can find interesting, non-food ways to enjoy my time not working.

That Didn't Last Long

So I made it into the ranks of the overweight, managed to stay there for a couple of months, then bounced back into being obese. The worst of my weight gain has been in the past three weeks. Why?

The answer is easy: Duh-uh, I'm eating too much.

This is not news to me. It didn't require tracking, searching self-analysis, or clinical intervention. I know I'm eating too much and eating poorly. I also have absolutely no willpower or discipline right now. I've been working 50-60+ hours per week for so long (since April) and my schedule has been disrupted so frequently (especially since November 1 when I also started traveling) that I just don't care.

But I do see a light at the end of this long, long tunnel. I should be able to reduce my work hours some after the first week in January. I might even get some time off in February. I know I need much more than a week, or even two, to feel rested and refreshed. I also know that once my schedule starts to settle down the second week in January I'll be able to start taking steps back to the healthy, reasonable eating I was doing in September.

It took me a long time to get back to being simply overweight. I've risen to obesity so fast this time that I clearly remember how it felt to weigh less. I'm hoping that memory will drive me back to being overweight much faster this time around.

I Have Joined the Ranks of the Overweight!

I never thought I'd be thrilled to be overweight, but I am today. I lost 3.2 pounds this week for a total loss of 31.6 pounds AND my BMI is now 29.9.

I am not obese!

When I started to come to grips with my expanding girth, the hardest thing to digest was my obesity. One of medical diagnoses is obesity, which was difficult to see on a doctor's chart. Obesity has never been part of my self-concept. Being overweight, yes; obese, no.

As I approached and achieved each goal on my way to this point, I started to think more often about not wanting to be obese any longer. After turning a new century, I thought becoming overweight would be not far behind. It was only three pounds away, after all.

As with all things weight-related for me, I have to learn the same lesson over and over again: Wishing won't make it so. Only consistently following my program, which now include Weight Watchers, will work and it's going to take way, way longer than I ever anticipate.

For today, though, I'm thrilled! And later, I'll be off to shop for non-stick cookie sheets; I've become hooked on roasted vegetables and my cookie sheets are not only not non-stick, they're disreputable. Out with the old and warped, in with the new and non-stick!

Another Sigh

So I hit the new century and thought the Land of Overweight couldn't be far away. I'm still in ObeseVille.

I really thought I'd see my BMI go below obese this week. I tracked. I ate well. I went out for breakfast and didn't succumb to the lure of an omlette. And I gained weight. I'm now threatening to return to that old century. No! Not that!

My leader decided it was because I wore long pants today instead of the shorts I've worn all summer. I think of them as my weigh-in jeans. They're lighter than most jeans and I wear them almost exclusively on weigh-in day. I also wore socks for the first time in months. I gained 1.6 pounds.

Even if my clothing choices are the source of the gain, it still means I didn't lose. So now I'm trying to catch any sneaky Points that I haven't tracked. Kaitlin mentioned "bites, licks, and tastes" (BLTs - groan) today so I've been on the alert for those, too.

I'm not as disappointed as this may sound. I know that I'll get back on track. It's just that right now I'm not sure what getting back on track means! Wait. That sounds worse than I mean it. I know I'll get back on track, especially after a second weigh-in wearing my weigh-in jeans and another week of staying on plan; a weight gain then will tell me I need to look very, very closely at what I'm doing. There. That's better.

I found a terrific Weight Watchers recipe on their website that I'm cooking tonight. I just know even before making it that I'm going to love it. Check out Sweet Potato & Onion Salad. I have no idea why they call it a "salad" because it seems like a side dish to me.

Hurry Up and . . . Wait

After I passed the century mark, I thought it would be easy to hit the overweight (not obese) mark. Wrong.

A variety of things -- Lyme disease primarily -- have gotten in the way, but I'm slowly making progress toward my next goal. My BMI is currently 30.1. To be overweight and not obese, it needs to go below 30. So close!

I love the Camelbak Insulated bottle I got to reward myself for passing the century mark. I keep changing my mind about how I'll reward myself for becoming overweight, so I suppose it's OK (not) that I haven't gotten there yet.

It's a New Century!

I joined Weight Watchers in October, 2007. I have not missed a single weekly weigh-in or meeting. And now, at last, after 22 months of "Stop Dieting. Start Living" I have seen the scale go below 200!

The significance of confessing that I once weighed over 200 pounds should not be underestimated. I have never shared my weight with anyone but my doctor and Weight Watchers.

Wait, that's not true. I do recall that back in the mists of time I actually had a wall chart for tracking my weight the summer after my freshman year in college. I lost 20 pounds that summer and discovered, for the first time, the pleasure of not being self-conscious about my weight. That was the last time I was at all forthcoming about how much I weighed.

One can't attend a meeting every week for 22 months and not be affected. I have actually given up my habit of weighing myself every morning upon arising. I'm content to see what the scale says when I weigh-in before the meeting. And, as evidenced by this entry, I'm slowly becoming less self-conscious about the number itself.

Staying true to the dictum not to celebrate weight loss by eating, I'm going to treat myself to a Camelbak insulated water bottle. As the magic number neared, I thought about how to celebrate it and settled on the water bottle. And now I'm off to order one . . .