Yeah, I did it. I survived the week on a diet. No husbands were maimed, no children were injured, no small animals were harmed.
And I lost five pounds.
I know – that sounds like I should be jumping up and down, praising the diet divas (Richard Simmons and Susan Powter); bowing down to the gut busting gurus (the trainers on the Biggest Loser – and Harvey from Celebrity Fit Club); lavishing love on the lard losing dieters who have gone before me, blazing the trail with fad diets and starvation plans.
But I can’t.
If I get excited that I’ve lost five pounds, I might start looking to reward myself.
And you know how fat chicks reward themselves? It’s how we got fat in the first place. Food.
This is one of the hurdles in the diet challenge for me – learning to be proud of my weight loss and reward myself without using food.
In the past, if I lost five pounds in one week, I’d start thinking “Hmmmm, if I ate X number of calories this week and lost five pound, then next week, I can eat 200 calories more each day and STILL lose weight!” It’s a vicious cycle for me; another way I sabotage myself.
The good thing this time around is I am recognizing the things I’ve glazed over in the past (oooh – she said “glaze” – how far is the Krispy Kreme from here?). I don’t have to be three quarters of the way through a Quarter Pounder before I realize I could have just patted myself on the back, given myself an extra hour of “me” time, and skipped the fat laden calorie consumption.
I’m down five pounds. My goal is 30 pounds. With less than 17% of my goal reached, now is not the time to rest on my pleasantly plump laurels.