My Bloody Valentine

I can't believe it's been almost a full week since I've blogged. However, there's something to be said about having a busy week. It leaves little time to eat and results in a 2 lb. loss for the week! You won't hear me complain about that - ever.

But even with a 2 lb. loss in the books, I didn't have what I'd consider a stellar week of eating. I skipped breakfast a few days, which isn't good practice. It sets me up for giant sized hunger come lunch time. And if I don't get enough at lunch - watch out. I then want to eat the refrigerator the second I walk in the door after school. I need to get better with giving myself enough time to at least get a cup of yogurt down my throat in the AM before my students roll through the door. Time management has never really been my thing.

In addition to skipping breakfast, there are a few worse confessions this week that I feel compelled to get off my chest. After some serious soul searching today, I realize there are a few not so wonderful behaviors that I have developed over the years that I still put into practice. And if continued, these behaviors will surely sabotage everything that I am working so hard to achieve.
Here are the culprits:

Bad behavior #1 - Blame it on the Period
Once a month, that nasty manipulative Aunt Flo tries to get on my good side by encouraging me to 'take a break' from dieting in order to satisfy the suitcase load of cravings she brings with her and unpacks with fury. "It's ok, " she seductively whispers in my ear. "I'm here now. Eat what you want." And I usually listen to her because her voice is encouraging, coaxing and familiar and she offers up a perfectly acceptable excuse to be 'bad' on a silver platter. I fall for it time and time again.  Hook, line and big ol' fat sinker.

I'm sorry, but bleeding from one's nether regions - no matter how annoying, disgusting, or disruptive to life it may be - should not be an excuse to drop healthy eating like a hot potato. Yet, somehow, I use this time of the month as a green light to do just that. Apparently, period brain is a real thing. I lose all sensibility and make love with the enemy. And for me, that enemy is sugar. So when I tell you that my trip to the Dollar Store to buy heart stickers for my Kindergarteners also included the purchase of a bag of Riesens Chocolate Chews, please know that I'm already hanging my head in deep shame. I mean Dollar Store candy? Come on. Have some class, Rochelle. If you're going to cheat, at least make it worth the calories. Let's just say the crinkled, discarded wrappers in my coat pocket are mocking reminders of what I've done. Next month, I'll be better. I promise.

Bad Behavior #2 - Weigh-In Day Indulgences
As you know, Fridays are my official weigh-in day. This is not a coincidence, my friends. It is about as calculated as it gets. If I'm going to indulge, it's usually on a Friday night, after a long week of work. On Friday nights, food tastes better, drinks are stronger, and my willpower tends to take a flying leap out the window. By the time Friday night rolls around, my weekly weight loss has been faithfully documented and I am 7 days away from having to report it again. That also means, to the mind of a somewhat twisted diabolical dieter, I have 7 days to repair any damage that Friday night may bring. This past Friday, I fell off the wagon early in the day. Meaning I was at school and couldn't even hide my bad choices under the cloak of darkness. Our Valentine's Day party at school included Dominoes pizza, Hershey Kisses, and a side of What The Hell Was I Thinking? And if two pieces of Dominos pizza (which I don't even like, by the way) and 7 Hershey Kisses didn't quite meet the 'falling off the wagon' definition for the day, my evening liquid dinner consisting of two lemon drop martinis sealed the deal.

Bad Behavior #3 - Cashing In On Inexplicable Weight Loss
So, even after the indiscretions with the Riesens, pizza, candy and booze, I still managed to see another 1.25lbs loss from Friday to Saturday morning. Say what?
This, my friends, is what you call a dieting miracle. A gift from the fat gods that should be enjoyed but also one that should be left well enough alone. But if you're me, you mistake this loss for being the positive result of making poor food choices. I even tried to bullshit myself this morning that I must be doing something right with "confusing" my body with healthy eating most days but crappy eating one or two days. Hallelujah! It's the newest solution in weight loss!! There's only one problem with that. Even I don't believe that load of horse crap. I know this morning the scale was just being kind - but that eventually those calories will catch up to me. But even with that knowledge tucked away in the far corners of my brain, I continued on my path of destruction today. Pancakes (no butter or syrup - but still) and the small 6 piece Whitman's sampler Josh gave me for Valentine's Day. Oh, and let's not forget the 6 Hershey Kisses. One for each Valentine's Day Josh and I have been together. I loved the sentiment - but seriously. Someone wire my jaw shut - stat!

Here's the thing. Eating good, makes me feel good. Eating bad, makes me feel bad. It's not rocket science. It's a simple fact. So all of that bad eating? Yeah, it came back to bite me. Hard. In the middle of a phone conversation with one of my best friends, I had to promptly hang up when that horrible familiar feeling (you know the one from from Super Bowl Sunday?) came creeping up on me. Puking was imminent and I knew it. I said goodbye quickly and then raced to the bathroom. If you read my post from 2/1, you know how this all went down from there.

I said it before and I'll say it again. My body is talking to me through this whole process. It is communicating in the only way it knows how. I've been taught a valuable lesson today and it's that my old way of life CANNOT continue to be a part of my new way of life. The temporary ecstasy that I feel when I eat a piece (or 10) of chocolate candy isn't worth the barf session I have afterward when it's all said and done. I felt like champ these past few weeks when I was doing 'the right stuff', and over the course of two or three days, I fell flat on my face with the reminder of what happens when I go off plan.

Yes, I am disappointed with myself, but certainly not discouraged. If anything, this only makes me more determined to see this life style change through no matter how many times I fall down. I am only beginning this journey and I know there are going to be moments of weakness and bad judgement, along with (hopefully) longer stretches of determination, strength, and better choices. Perfection isn't in my vocabulary. We are all flawed in some way. Many of my flaws happen to center around how I interact with food - but I am working on changing all that. In the meantime, I think it's good for me to take pause and acknowledge the behaviors that are no longer working for me. It helps me to understand just what I've been doing all these years that has set me so far back from the goal I so badly want to achieve. I'm not beating myself up, but I am taking responsibility for my actions. After all, I am the only one in charge here.

This very moment resets the clock for me. I'm not going to dwell on the past few days, or even the past few hours. They are gone and I can't change them. What I can do is control what happens in the moments that are yet to come. And I will make them count. Because I have to.