And Now, Ironically, I Will Talk About Weight Watchers

I know, I know yesterday I talked about a pie.  And not just any pie, the richest pie you could ever possibly eat.  That pie is like the opposite of Weight Watchers.

But that pie was for the greater good, to support a grieving family in the face of tragedy.  Bigger picture, people.  BIGGER PICTURE.

However, here in the small details of my everyday life, it's time for me to buckle down and get serious about weight loss. 

Again.  

I realize the exact details about how my most recent weight gain happened are kind of not altogether scientifically accurate, nor are my behaviors based on any kind of sound reasoning.  But, the basic story is that I kind of took a major Weight Watchers vacation during my trip.  Now, the trip was a week long.  The Weight Watchers vacation was more like a month long, because I decided to add in a little extra Weight Watchers staycation before and after my actual week of travels. 

This past Saturday I got up the courage to face the music and weigh myself at home.  And, in the month that I was off of Weight Watchers, I had ...

... lost 7 pounds. 

Buoyed by my new weight loss non-efforts, I decided I'd have one more all-you-can-eat gorge-fest Sunday at the Renaissance Faire.  The highlight of that day's eating was this loaf of bread that was actually like a cinnamon roll in loaf form.  Here is a picture of Katie, who is very thin and obviously eats responsibly most of the time, modeling the loaf:

I called it "the bread that God eats."

So, two pickles, a bread bowl with broccoli-cheddar soup, the bread that God eats, toffee, an Italian ice, and the Mexican takeout we got on the way home later, and ...

... I had gained 7 pounds by Monday morning.  

Monday morning I dragged myself to Spin, the most calorie-burning workout that I can possibly muster, and then to Weight Watchers, where, according to their scale, I was:

• 10 pounds heavier than I had been on my home scale Saturday (which, again, you can't always compare two different scales, but still)
• 3 pounds heavier than I had been that exact morning on my home scale (see parenthetical caveat of previous bullet point)
• 4 pounds heavier than my previous Weight Watchers weigh-in
• 8 pounds heavier than my Weight Watchers low of this particular weight-loss effort
• generally just a fat-ass
• angry and disappointed

How could I let it get to this point?  And I know, I know you can't look back.  Nothing can be done about the past, all you can do is improve your behavior in the present so you won't have regrets tomorrow.  One of my favorite Eagles lyric quotes goes:

"Right or wrong, what's done is done,
It's only moments that we borrow."
--The Eagles, "Try and Love Again"

So, I get it, no looking back and all that.  But, for crying out loud, how many times have I said this?  How many times have I failed?  When will I ever get this right? 

But I also know that self-hatred is not the best spirit in which to lose weight.  So, in the interests of looking on the bright side, I will consider the following:

I'm proud that I always end up going back.  I am proud that even when I slack off a bit, I always rein it back in, difficult as it may be.  The door to Weight Watchers may as well have one of those "DO NOT ENTER!  SEVERE TIRE DAMAGE!" pokey grate thingies on it, because that's how hard it feels to cross the threshold of the Weight Watchers facility sometimes. 

But I do it.  I force myself to go back.  And then I go and buy myself flowers or jewelry or lotions or some other form of inedible reward.  Weight Watchers is very expensive.  But I like to think little baubles are going to be cheaper than the eventual angioplasty I'll have to get if I don't lose weight.  Prettier, too. 

And so, here I sit, back on the proverbial horse.  And I'm focusing on another quote for inspiration, one that Weight Watchers itself actually put on its Facebook page:

"Fall down seven times, get up eight."
--Japanese proverb

Or, closer to home, something my stepmom always said when I was growing up:

"Shannon lets her room get messy sometimes, but you can always count on her to clean it up eventually."

And, with that, I am off to eat half a cup of oatmeal topped with fresh fruit.  Wish me luck!  (Not on the oatmeal thing; I can probably figure that one out.  But, you know, just in general.)