At Last. And on Track.

Whew! After two straight weeks of weight gain, I am back on track…and in a really good way. After last week’s weigh-in (which I couldn’t even bring myself to write about), when I gained 0.4 pounds (and yes, I know, that’s not very much) I was so discouraged. You see, I’d felt so positive about my week. Right up until Friday evening I had been rocking the Weight Watchers program: eating at least five servings of fruits and veggies daily, exercising at least 30 minutes daily (some days 90 minutes), drinking loads of water, and watching my fat and calorie intake. I was on a roll.

Friday though, was different. I had pizza for dinner (three slices: ouch!) and then indulged in a few glasses of wine with my gal pals. Oh, and then there was the pita chips and hummus, plus a couple of my famous homemade cookies (I put out a pretty good spread for my friends, but I should have stayed away from it myself!). But you know, I figured there just wouldn’t be enough time for all that food to metabolize into weight-gaining fat overnight. I figured I’d still be good for a small weight loss and then I’d have a week to work off my Friday-night overindulgence.

Not so.

So there I was, very discouraged. And I should point out that most of us overweight folk are this way because we’re emotional eaters. So feeling down and discouraged ain’t exactly the best frame of mind to find oneself in when what one really needs is a fresh start. I was bummed. But I made it through the first few days of the week. I was okay…not exercising as much (or at all, honestly), but not over-eating past my daily points allowance.

And then my Dad listed his home for sale. And I made the mistake of looking at the listing. I honestly didn’t really think it would upset me…it is, after all, just a house. My parents hadn’t even lived in it very long, and I had only visited on perhaps a score of occasions. And I do think my Dad is doing the right thing – I know people say you shouldn’t make any drastic decisions in the first year following the death of a loved one, but in this case I think that’s wrong – the house is isolated and in Ontario’s snow belt. If he were to stay there, my Dad would be alone and lonely, potentially snowed in, and physically exhausted by the work of keeping the long gravel drive and many porches (not to mention the roof) snow- and ice-free. So moving is the right thing for him to do, and my sisters and I all agree with his decision.

But still. Seeing the listing – the photos of all those familiar rooms, that spectacular view, it hit me. Hard. It seemed to me that what was being left behind, what my Dad has to move on from, is not just a country home that will be hard for a sole retiree to manage, but a dream. The dream my parents had of retiring to the Beaver Valley – to the place that my mother loved so very much – to enjoy years of togetherness and independence in a setting that they had dreamed about for decades.

So, yeah. There was that. Add that to my discouragement over the week before, and I was primed for what’s called a Food Festival. And so when my kids asked to go out for dinner, I readily agreed. A restaurant sounded just about right. Something deep fried then drenched in cream sauce and melted cheese. Perfect! Thankfully, my husband intervened and the dinner wound up at Subway, where I had a salad, instead of a sub, with fat-free dressing. And the food festival was averted! Just like that.

And suddenly, instead of feeling discouraged and depressed, I felt a little bit proud. I hadn’t indulged in my urge for a food festival after all. I had triumphed over the old patterns of drowning my negative emotions with food. For the rest of the week I stayed on track, and yesterday morning when I weighed in I was rewarded. For one thing, the weight loss that I’d surely achieved the previous week (but camouflaged with my Friday-night-food-festival) was back, along with the reward for a second good week.

I was down 6.8 pounds, for a total, over five weeks, of 14.8 pounds. And that, folks, is a great achievement, anyway you slice it. In fact, it’s well over one-third of the 41 pounds I want to lose to achieve my overall goal. So here I am. At last. Back on track.