If you've ever done Weight Watchers, you know how exciting and "almost" fun it is at the beginning. You have a set of rules to follow, and you try to follow them exactly. You're rewarded week after week with nice, healthy losses.
Then one day, after, oh, let's say two and half years, you kind of get tired of it all. The weighing and measuring, the tracking, and all the other tedious things that are part of the Weight Watcher plan.
The compliments stop because you've been at the same weight for months, or maybe you've even gained ten or twenty pounds. No one cares or seems to notice that you're still trying to lose weight, but you're struggling. You've lost your momentum.
You've stop measuring your portions, so four ounces of chicken becomes seven or eight ounces. You stop trying to get in five vegetables a day, and take the five to seven vegetables or fruits to mean seven to nine fruits per day (maybe an obligatory vegetable or two). You certainly don't track your Points, because if you're honest, you don't really want to know.
Maybe you stay away from the bad* stuff, the candy and cookies, but you eat too much of the healthy stuff. Your size 12 jeans are now snug and your thighs are starting to take over. In fact, when you look in the mirror all you see are your thighs.
That's where I am right now. So let's just say this is my day one, not day 912 (that's approximate, but it's been about 2 1/2 years since I started).
For today, my day one, I'm tracking my food, staying within my Points, weighing and measuring everything that goes in my mouth, and trying to follow the healthy eight guidelines. Easy peasy, right? I certainly hope so because my critical voice is driving me insane. She won't shut up about my eating, and if I could just smash her into tiny pieces, I'd be happy.
Geneen (WFG) says to quiet The Voice, which I agree with to a point. However, I still think that internal voice serves a purpose. It really does have my best interest at heart, and it helps keep me in check, because Lord knows, someone needs to. However, these days I use a somewhat kinder, gentler voice with myself. I wasn't making any progress with the old voice.
One other thing I have to do this week is face my Weight Watcher leader. She's been sending me cards in the mail, "Where are you?" or "We miss you!" or (and I love this one), "It's never too late to come back!". I haven't been to a meeting since June 5, when I weighed in at 162.8. I've definitely done some damage over the summer.
What it feels like to be the fattest person in the room
Today I went to a spinning class. I've attended spinning classes before but always when I weighed less, 150 to 165. At 175 I usually feel too fat to be walking (or spinning) among the fittest people at the gym. Today I thought to hell with it, I'm going.
I hadn't been to a spinning class in months and the instructor was new to me. She came over and talked to me before class. I could tell she thought I was a novice to spinning, but I'm not. I know how to ride a spin cycle. It's just like riding a bike, anyone can do it and it doesn't take any special talent, just endurance.
Right before the class started I looked around the room, and yes, I was indeed the largest person in the room. I'd guess the average woman was maybe 125 pounds (skinny!), and the average man, maybe 150-160. There were about 20 people and every one of them looked like they had stepped right off the pages of a fitness magazine. Strong, muscular arms, flat abs and of course, great legs.
I was able to keep up without too much pain (okay, a lot of pain!). In 45 minutes I burned 340 calories, and since I had warmed up for five minutes before the class, I'm counting all 45 minutes of the spinning class for 6 APs. I had also done 20 minutes of upper body strength training before the class.
* I'm pretty sure someone is going to comment that there aren't any "bad" foods. I know that's true, sort of. Most people can have these foods in their house without going crazy. My sister is like that, she always keeps ice cream, cookies and candy in her house for her grandchildren. She very rarely eats any of it. She doesn't have a weight problem.
I'm not one of those fortunate people like my sister. I will eat it until it's gone, every cookie, every piece of candy or every bite of the ice cream. It's a sickness I have, similar to an alcoholic, but one I can deal with it. I just can't have those foods in my house. That's why I call it "bad" food.