Now that I’ve gone public with my new weight loss goals, I decided to try to find a few weight loss blogs to follow for inspiration. I want to find recipes, success stories, helpful hints, etc. I keep looking for someone like me, someone facing similar struggles. But instead, I keep finding daily food diaries and exercise logs.
I don’t care.
I can’t imagine anything more boring than a blog that lists what I ate, how many calories I burned, or how many Weight Watchers “activity points” I can count for scratching my ass. And I strongly doubt whether or not anyone really gives a damn that I counted eight points for a Wendy’s Frosty last night.
I have lost count of how many times I have tried Weight Watchers before. I once lost nearly one hundred pounds while following the program, but I was also in the midst of my obsession with running at that time; my weight-loss was due more to frenetic exercise than to my haphazard attention to what I was eating. I think I can say in all honesty that I have never actually done Weight Watchers correctly.
So I’m not sure what is so different this time. I just finished one full week on the program and actually did it right all week long.
Of course, I don’t know if it worked or not because my fancy electronic scale doesn’t work and I’ve been in denial for so long that I didn’t realize it was broken until I hopped on it to take note of my starting weight. Fortunately, the lovely people at Salter have agreed to replace it and will be sending me a new one in 4-6 weeks. Love those warranties!
There’s an entire blog post in there somewhere about how it felt to realize that I had broken my scale, but quite frankly my ego just isn’t up to that. If not for my skinny-mini daughter telling me that it’s been broken for months I might have been suicidal when I looked down and saw “Err . . . Err . . .Err” in bright red letters on the readout.
Slim people like my sister don’t stay home and survive on specialty foods created just for weight control. I’ve watched her, and she eats real food. My tall, slender daughter eats the same foods that I eat – foods that I have prepared in my own kitchen. We don’t use fat-free, artificially-sweetened frankenfoods in this house, and yet she maintains her weight just fine.
Granted, both of them are much more physically active than I am. But the point I am trying to make here is that I think the easiest way to lose weight is to eat real foods in more practical portions. If I had to lose weight by eating pre-packaged, preservative-riddled, mail-order meals, I think I might last a week. Or if I had to always be set apart from the people around me, eating something different and “special”, I’d be good for about two days.
If I had to accept the fact that I would never again eat another slice of pizza or –God forbid!—a Toblerone, I’d last exactly 4.7 seconds.
The fact is, I am going to eat real food. Pizza, lasagna, cheesecake, Toblerone, Wendy’s Frosties. If I’m going to move out of the Land of Bigass Denial and take up residence in the Land of Painful Reality, I’m going to have to do it with the occasional dish of tater-tot casserole and chocolate cake.
The difference is that I am going to have to limit my portions.
Part of my denial was telling myself that I really wasn’t eating that much. I blamed my weight gain on slow metabolism, a sedentary lifestyle due to my disability, too much snacking, heredity, and so on. I think I even blamed E.L. James, not because she had anything to do with it but because I just like blaming her for everything unpleasant in life.
I was appalled this week to discover that I have been eating easily as much as my husband (sometimes more). The problem with that is that the Big Guy is a six-foot, one-inch man who rarely stops moving. The man has got the appetite and metabolism of a seventeen year-old marathon runner.
I, on the other hand, am a five-foot, four-inch sedentary woman with the metabolism and activity level of a three-toed sloth.
I’ve realized that the points value of one meal at Pizza Hut was an entire days worth of points. Holy crap. I can still eat there; I just can’t continue to match the Big Guy slice for slice. Seriously, what the hell was I thinking? I am not a stupid person. How did I not get that I can’t eat that much?
The past week has been a real eye-opener in terms of my own idiocy and bad habits. It’s also been a relatively hungry week as I have drastically reduced the amount of food I’m taking in. I haven’t even started to worry about “activity points” and exercise just yet because I don’t want to overwhelm myself with too many changes, too soon. That’s something for another week and another blog post.
If you have a weight loss blog and want to share some inspiration or some of your secrets, please leave a link for me in the comments! I’d love to check it out.