Week Who-Knows-What: Weeping

This Monday past I started weeping at the gym during one of my training sessions. It came like a wave and there was nothing I could do to stop it. The tears streamed down my ridiculously red face as my trainer stood aghast. It was, well…it was bad.
I’ve since had time to consider what the tears were all about and I figure it’s because loosing weight at 50 is not like loosing weight at 20, 30 or even 40. Like me, the pounds have become more stubborn. They are clinging to me like 30 year old adult children floating on the basement davenport, refusing to leave the nest. But more than that, I am not, I repeat NOT on the schedule I anticipated would be easy. One pound a week, I thought, would be a snap. At least at first. But, quite frankly it’s not and I’m behind and I’m mad at myself because I am doing everything right.
In fact when I monitored every solitary food item that passed my lips last week and dutifully wrote it all down --- ALL of it, every single grape and dollop of skim milk -- and the scales didn’t budge, I felt devastated. I also freaked out when the weight watcher leader told me I wasn’t eating ENOUGH food!! Then I got a parking ticket and spend the rest of the afternoon at a funeral ….It was that kind of a week.
If it wasn’t for this blog and my truly public commitment to health, I might quit. Instead, what I am going to do is modify my expectations. I’m still going to aim high but if I don’t loose a pound a week – say I only loose half a pound a week – I’m still losing, right? I’m still on the downward slope, my BMI is still dropping. But I am going to go a little easier on myself. Not food wise. Not exercise wise, but pound wise. I’m going to work towards overall fit and health – physical and psychological health -- and that means obsesses a little less about the numbers game.

More (or less of me) later, M