So here I am, six weeks in to my relationship with Weight Watchers, and I’m down 8.8lbs (4 kilos). For those of you who get excited about seeing those numbers decrease on the scale, you’ll be happy to know that’s an average of -1.46lbs (or -.66 kilos) per week. Not bad for someone who collectively took almost a week off during the last six weeks to throw counting (and the scale) out the freaking window. Yup, that’s right – even those of us watching our weight get to take time off.
Over the last 42 days, I had my birthday, Greek Easter (read: Big, Fat, Greek Easter) and an anniversary weekend away with my love, sampling anything I wanted, whenever I wanted, and you know what? I don’t regret a single minute. Because somehow, in just this short period of time, I’ve really committed to FEELING better. Not looking better. Not being a certain size, but FEELING better about myself and the world around me. That means being more active, eating less sugar, GETTING MY SLEEP (because without it, my army of will power frustratingly takes the day off), and progressing in a lot of healthful ways that just do not show up on a scale. And that keeps me on the “happy and healthy” wagon, even if I DECIDE to jump off–not fall off–every now and again.
For example, I’ve been learning about my relationship with food. You know, the one where you’re bored, so you eat? Or you are stressed, so you eat. Or you’re lonely, so you eat. Or you closed a big deal, so you eat. Or hey, it’s raining, so you eat. Whatever. You TOTALLY know what I mean. Just being more CONSCIOUS of what I go to grab for (and when!) has been a major learning experience for me, and I find that this program really helps to keep me in check (and no, no one paid me to say that).
Anyway, during this renewed sense of consciousness, I met up with an old acquaintance of mine, Mr. Rationalization, who I did not realize had set up camp in the depths of my subconscious brain. He didn’t announce himself. He didn’t knock on my front door. He just snuck right in when I was going through a very stressful time in my life, and has been squatting for, like, the last five years or so. Not cool. So guess what, old chap? You’re being evicted. As in: BUH-BYE.
The thing is, regardless of what Hollywood tries to tell you, getting to this place of feeling good does not mean that you have to starve yourself. In fact, I’m learning that you CAN eat and drink just like a “normal” person as long as you know what “normal” really means. For me, it means practicing all the stuff we already know about portions, staying active, the quality of our calories (empty or full-of-goodness?), and planning your splurges. And I’m here to tell you that I’ve had French fries, chocolate, a margarita, and an ice cream sundae, without any repercussions, and now I’m actually inspired to make them all myself, just slightly healthier versions, since I consider myself a sexpot in the kitchen (yes, I just said that out loud).
But for those of you who find less inspiration wearing an apron, I can also tell you that I had THE MOST AMAZING LOBSTER ROLL–pictured here– while cruising down the coast of Maine last weekend, and worked it right into my daily WW point allotment (yup, that’s 10 points of orgasmic delight, thanks to my friends at Red Eats who are so cool that they actually have their own Wikipedia page). And on this day, let me tell you, SIZE DID MATTER because everyone knows the more lobster, the better, but I digress.
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