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Also, one Oreo.
Breakfast of champions.
All the stuff I didn’t post before.
Not going to do this daily. Too easy to forget. Will do every meal, and though I will still be trying to leave leftovers, I won’t take separate pictures for that. All emotional eating thoughts and similar will come as summary posts using the food pics as mnemonic triggers.
It wasn’t so much fear of the scale that prevented me from using it. It was that I hadn’t dug it out of the mess in the garage. Not digging it out of the mess in the garage? That was out of so much fear of knowing that, once I dug it out, I would be weighing myself again. And I was freaked out.
I knew I’d gained weight. I knew that I wasn’t using my two tightest belt loops. I knew that pants that fit comfortably before all this were now snug, and I couldn’t just blame it on laundry done with hot water.
Logic said I probably gained about 10 pounds from the last time I’d weighed in. Fear said it was a whole lot more. It was worried to find out.
The good news? I gained about 6 pounds. A little more. Of course, I’d also gained some weight prior to my previous weigh-in. Major stress related to the wedding started in early April, and I started to fall behind on several goals. In all, from my lowest recent weigh-in (back in April), I’ve gained 10 pounds.
On the one hand, I get it. Let’s say a friend of mine walked up to me and said, “Hey, I just went through three months of stress for planning a wedding, taking care of a fiance who had pneumonia right before said wedding, and going to a grad school residency. And beyond that, I went really lax in eating and activity goals during the wedding itself and the subsequent honeymoon. Now I’ve gained 10 pounds.” My reply would be something like, “Well, yeah.” Maybe some empathy and stuff too, but mostly just that shrugging acceptance. Because that just seems like a reasonable situation in which to gain some weight. Three and a half pounds a month in that context doesn’t seem absurd.
But also, I’ve been working hard at this for a long while now. And feeling like I’m now set back to the weight I was at the beginning of March is disheartening. There are things I feel like I won’t get “access” to until I’m in better shape. The ability to do some more active things without holding others back. The ability to go on certain types of trips or do certain types of activities. That sort of deal.
Whatever. It’s good to know where I’m at. It’s good that it’s not what I expected (280). It’s good that it’s not worse than I feared. It’s good that I’m looking at the situation and re-focusing.
Plus, there’s this thing some Tarot cards told me tonight. (Long-ish explanation there, so I’m just skipping to the conclusion.) That, while it’s important and practical to focus on goals, this can lead to an unproductive sense of loss. What really matters in keeping in mind how I want to feel and behave and be kind to myself each day. That, while swift change is good, a focus on the goals without the core sense of actually wanting and being invested in the process (getting joy out of treating my body better, that is), I can easily work myself into a sense of helplessness.
So, yeah. I’m trying to pay attention to that, among other things. And I am, in fact, feeling pretty re-focused. (Did that liquid cleanse, followed by a mini liquid cleanse to soft reset after the sillyness of July 4th).
This was a bizarre day. To put it relatively simply, I had far too much caffeine and had some work stuff happen that made me anxious. As a result, I couldn’t get to sleep on the 4th. So after three hours of trying without success, I decided to get up and start doing holiday stuff.
That holiday stuff included eating, but I didn’t track it particularly well. I probably had coffee before leaving. I know I had half a 10″ pizza and all of a “cheesecake iced coffee” at the park with the freedom festivities. Then there was a barbecue where I had two veggie burgers, some macaroni salad, some patriotic trifle stuff, two cups of margarita, and two beers over the course of a few hours. I also took naps in small doses.
After returning home, I was finally able to sleep for a few hours (about four, but I’d also gotten maybe two hours of cumulative nap time over the four or five hours of the barbecue). I woke up around 1am because I didn’t want my sleep schedule to get too warped. Then I ate about a quarter of a blueberry pie, had a cup of cold brew coffee, and had more of the patriotic trifle.
It was not a day of brilliant eating, nor did it do the healthy transition off of the liquid cleanse that I’d been hoping for. It was a tired holiday, though, and while I probably ate in excess I certainly had a variety of foods, so that at least is a plus.
I will try to resume this picture pattern, but we’ll see what I can manage. (I know I accidentally skipped half of my stuff for the 5th, so … not a great sign.)
Plus side? My goal with the sleep schedule bit worked out well, and I didn’t get off track at all.
Omitted: Two slices of homemade bread, cut thick. One with butter and honey, the other with peach butter. Also, about 30 ounces of coffee with vanilla syrup.
Food thoughts: I certainly ate by appetite for the most part, but would have liked to have seen more plant-based food. I guess there was the bolthouse fruit one, but I got a salad and didn’t wind up eating it because of my other options. Also, it’s been hard to know if my appetite is running the show for the last few hours because I’ve been so over-caffeinated that I have no actual sense of whether I’m hungry or not. I may have over-eaten, or maybe I’ll come crashing down from the caffeine and realize I’m starving. Guess we’ll see.
I experimented with taking all my pictures when the intent to compile them into a post at the end of the day. Didn’t even post on the first day. But here are the posts.
On the other hand, it’s really easy to build upload and I won’t be spamming posts. So I’ll keep considering.
Copyright © 2017 Rob Blair Writes