Be honest with me, guys: On a scale of one to 10—10 being “so sick of you, I would punch you in the face if ever I met you in person”—how sick of me are you? For 16 weeks, I have been taking up space in the blogosphere. Wasting five, maybe ten, minutes of your precious time each Thursday. Trying, and sometimes succeeding, to find the humor in this whole weight-loss thing while reporting on recipes, classes and products that I’ve tried along the way. Smiling politely when, at one function or another where eating was involved (read: all functions I attend), someone looked at what I was eating and said “I’m sure THAT’S going to be in this week’s blog, right?” I even posted a fat picture of myself. Who does that?
All of this and I have lost … eight pounds.
Things you are currently thinking about posting/emailing to me after reading this (I know because I’ve said all of these things to friends trying to lose weight at one point or another; it’s what we do):
1. Eight pounds is great! You should be so proud. A loss is a loss!
2. It’s not what the scale says, it’s how you feel.
3. It’s not what the scale says, it’s how your clothes fit.
4. Weight loss isn’t a sprint, it’s a marathon. Keep it up, champ.
Blah, blah, blah … And don’t call me champ.
When I started writing this column I thought it was the answer I had been looking for. I’d lost the weight twice before and, with the added incentive of doing it publicly this time around, I thought this would be easy as pie. Or a piece of cake. Or elbow-deep in a bag of greasy chips. (Okay, so that last one isn’t even a thing, but since when are cake and pie so easy??) I have been stuck in a rut between 122 and 125 pounds for the past what-feels-like-forever and can’t seem to get through it. WTF? I thought I would be done with this thing by now and rocking my size-26 Z. Cavariccis (which would have looked sweet with a tank during last week’s summer-like weather, am I right?).
1. Adjust my goal weight. At my annual gyno appointment (because you all want to know about that), I spoke to the doctor about my goal weight of 113 pounds. I kid you not when I tell you she said, “Are you kidding me?” Then I thought about it. Yes, I weighed 113 in high school, but is that a realistic goal weight for a 35-year-old mother of two? And, yes, I got down to that weight after I had my daughter five years ago, but wasn’t able to maintain it. I would rather raise my goal weight and then have the wiggle room to go below it or rise above it a little bit and still be comfortable in my own skin. I spoke to Andy, my fearless and fabulous WW leader, about this and she agreed with me. And so, I am hereby adjusting my goal weight to … wait for it … 118 pounds. Attainable, maintainable, and I like numbers that are divisible by 2.
2. Take this baby out for a spin. April 12th is around the corner and I’m almost ready to run my 5K. As of yesterday I am a C25K graduate (and am accepting congratulatory gifts), but only on the treadmill. It’s time to get off the ‘mill and out into the world to see if this thing has legs. Or maybe I’ll tow a treadmill down to the Art Museum, set it up right next to Rocky, and run the 5K on there. Same-same, right?
3. Ditch the bad attitude. For whatever reason, losing weight the third time around has not been a charm. Or easy. There’s no one to blame but me for falling off the wagon as many times as I have so far. It’s time to stop making excuses, refocus, and finish this thing.
What I Did This Week
See 1 and 2 above.
What’s next: Three friends and I are Dishing with the Yenta at an at-home healthy cooking class this Friday night. Then, 20 friends and I are embarking on a three-day Catalyst Juice Cleanse during Passover. Buh-bye, matzoh! I will be blogging about each in upcoming posts!
Robin Raskin blogs about her weight loss journey every Thursday on Be Well Philly. Catch up on the series here, and follow her on Twitter at @RobinRaskin. Join Robin’s Healthy Recipe Swap Facebook group here.