I’m Baaaack

I had an absolutely wonderful vacation and cannot begin to express how different it would have been if I were forty-eight pounds heavier. Actually, 90% of the reason I didn’t bat an eye when it came time to plan a trip to California with the intent of being cemented to the hips of my in-laws is because of my weight loss.

- The flight would have been insanely uncomfortable if not terribly embarrassing (almost had to get a belt extension the last time I flew).

- I would have been bombarded with the (then) usual feeling of self-disgust and would have tried to hide (physically, mentally, and emotionally) from everyone and every thing.

- I never ever would have been able to play disc golf. The walking would have killed me — hands down.

True story.

It would have been an emotional disaster for me. BUT! It wasn’t and for that I am so incredibly thankful for. I DID IT. I really did it. It was nice to receive compliments from The Girl’s parents (her mother mentioned it <i>twice</i>) and even her brother said, ‘Wow, you got like… way smaller, huh?’ What a crazy feeling.
I ate pretty well for the first three days, but the shit hit the fan while we were in Vegas. After eating at Smith & Wollensky’s, it was over. I had calamari, onion rings, fries, and a burger (served on a delicious pretzel bun might I add). The following days included meals from Carl’s JR, Del Taco, In-N-Out, Wienerschnitzel (twice!), Burger King, and pizza (which happened last night after we flew in!). Needless to say, the flood gates had opened.

The upside? I tried to stay active, I stuck to fruit for breakfast each morning, and I limited myself on the crap-food front. Well, there was one day when I ate a hamburger, fries, a hot dog, and an ice cream — over 118 grams of fat and 6,000 mg of sodium!  Does this make me a hypocrite?
I don’t know.

Anyhow. I decided against weighing myself until Sunday (my true weigh-in day) because I couldn’t bare to see a huge gain. However, after a ten minute pep talk (aka argument) with myself in the shower, I decided to weigh myself this morning and then re-weigh myself on Sunday (after a few days of clean eating and regular exercise). Why for?

I need to be accountable.

I can’t pretend I didn’t make decisions and didn’t do things I probably shouldn’t have. Instead, I need to stare at those decisions (and consequences!) in the face. I need to own up to them and accept them and accept myself for making them.

Stepping on that scale was actually a proud moment even if I wasn’t feeling great about the possibility of a hefty gain. In the end, it looks like I’ve gained 1.5 pounds — not bad at all! The damage is probably closer to two pounds after last night’s pizza debacle, but I can handle two pounds. In fact, I am confident that those two pounds will be gone by Sunday!