One moment it's May 13 and I'm hooked up to an IV, writhing in pain in the emergency room awaiting emergency gallbladder surgery. And in the blink of an eye the calendar screams at me that it's July 16 reminding me my precious summer is half way over. I really shouldn't complain - I have just returned from 11 glorious, sun-drenched days at the beach. Or heaven on earth as I like to call it. However, time stands still for no one. It seems an additional 4 lbs have taken up residence on my ass since my last weigh-in (in APRIL) and frankly, I'm none too happy about it. Between you and me, I'm thinking of suing Candy Kitchen. Is it even possible to testify against dark chocolate covered sea salted caramels? They're at fault, after all.
In all seriousness, I've already given myself the proverbial 10 lashes with a wet noodle over how long it's been since I've blogged. And I can't "Candy Kitchen coat it" no matter how much I'd like to - there is no excuse for it other than my sheer, unrelenting lack of dedication regarding all things for which this blog stands. In case you forgot (as it seems I have - a-hem), I mean healthy eating and losing weight.
I don't pretend to be a soothsayer, but I'll be damned if I didn't predict my unfortunate relapse into eating craptastically post-surgery. Everything I had voiced and feared would happen once the gall bladder and I bid our adieus, did. I went from convent-like abstinence of all foods unholy and bad for me to triple X-indulgences of the culinary kind. Inevitably, it caught up with me - not just in those 4 lbs but also in the way I feel. In the world of dieting, what I did was akin to taking a swan dive off the top of the Empire State building. To not expect repercussions from that would be moronic.
I don't want to make light of my 4 lbs, but I'm actually surprised the gain wasn't more catostrophic. I also suspect that at least 2 or 3 of those pesky pounds meandered to my midsection during my vacation alone - which isn't unheard of for many people, chunky or not. Again - it's 4 lbs - not 14, not 40 - so I'm not going to get my Spanx in a twist and spend a tremendous amount of time lamenting how or why this happened. It doesn't take Nancy Drew to solve that little mystery. The focus now has to be on how to stop this fat train from barrel-assing down the tracks any further. Where is Superman when you need him?
Last night, I returned to yoga, which is a promising start in the right direction. Sometimes you don't know what you're missing until you're reunited with it after an extended absence. (Insert the song "Reunited" by Peaches and Herb here. 1978, I miss you.). Anyhoo - I was disappointed that our regular instructor, Erin wasn't there - I was looking forward to her challenging me after being away for so long. Honestly, I was a little nervous getting back to it. I thought my body would revolt in some way, shape or form. I'm happy to report, I made it with no major issues. We had a sub who was good - but her style lacked the guidance and intensity I had grown used to with Erin. I still enjoyed it very much - it was relaxing and gentle - which is maybe what my body needed to ease back into it - and I've vowed to continue on for the summer. My goal for yoga practice is twice a week.
I've also recommitted to weighing myself each day. I know, I know...there are mixed emotions on this one. The scale, while a scary beast for some, is truly my friend when I think about it. When I need to hear the truth, she gives it to me - no matter how devastating the news. Like you'd expect from a good compadre, she tells it like it is and does her best to keep me honest. The information she gives isn't meant to hurt me - it's there to help me. To encourage me to keep going. To motivate me to stay on track. What I choose to do with that information is entirely up to me. The scale only delivers the headline; she doesn't get pushy about how to write the rest of the story. That's entirely my bag. Being in the dark about how much I weigh is detrimental to this entire process. Three months is waaaaay too long. In staying away from the scale, I realize I only hurt myself. Avoiding her since April was a mistake. I won't do it again. Pinky swear! It's just you and me, Scale! Total BFFs! Ok, not really, but you get the idea.
As for the eating, what can I say? I'm angry that I still treat sugar like heroine sometimes. Donuts in the car this week? Check! Conquering my cravings for sugar is, without a doubt, my Mt. Everest. Seriously - what is it about the white stuff that has such a choke hold on me? Yes, it's addictive. I'm certainly not the first person to make that claim. I just wish it wasn't so....so...I don't know. Delicious?? Comforting??? EVERYWHERE I LOOK???? Le sigh...One day, I'll figure it out.
Every time I jump back on the health-kick bandwagon, I start thinking about what inspires me. This time is no different. Personally, I love the diet quote that says something like: "Being fat is hard. Losing weight is hard. Choose your hard." That's about as in your face as it gets as far as I'm concerned. Anyone who has ever struggled with being overweight and has tried to lose weight understands exactly what that quote means. Life as an overweight person is never easy. The older I get, the more difficult it is to haul the load so to speak. It is, as the quote states, hard to be fat. On so many levels. Too many to count or get into with this post. I have known this for most of my life - and perhaps that is why no matter how many times I take that aforementioned swan dive from atop the Empire State Building, I always go back inside and try to climb my way back to the top. The climb, as it turns out, is also very hard. But if I had to compare the options of staying where I am or continuing to climb, I'd say choosing to climb is the better deal - each and every time I do it.
I guess what I am trying to get at is that I acknowledge the last few months have not been the most spectacular part of this little journey of mine, but that's ok. There's no tears, no self-abuse, no regret. (Ok - maybe a little bit of regret). But when the sun goes down today, I'll know which hard I have chosen and that it's the right one. For me.
You heard me. I'm back!
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