So common, it has a name.
When those of us that struggle with our weight, do well for a while, drop some pounds, and then “celebrate” with a return to our old eating habits.
Do. Not. Go. There.
Resist the urge to celebrate losing 5, 10, even 25 pounds. Resist the whispering in your ear that says “You worked hard, you sacrificed, you deserve these onion rings and beer and fried chicken.”
You all know of my dramatic loss this year. Starting out around 215 or so, I got all the way down to 178 pounds by June. Doing nothing more than EATING RIGHT, with some cycling thrown in.
I stopped ordering cheeseburgers and fries. I stopped eating late at night. Stopped devouring an entire bag of chips or carton of Ben & Jerry’s.
I ate better.
And the weight dropped off me like Mark Cavendish off a climb. Like hot fudge off a sundae. Like a cheerleader’s skirt on prom night. Like a.. you get the picture.
By the time I dropped below 180 — first time in 20 years — I was cycling regularly, felt amazing, was happy in my personal life, and figured I had finally beaten down the demons of fatness like Sagan beats Gilbert. Like Alex Guarnaschelli beats eggs. Like Facebook beat down Myspace. Like… you get the picture.
I thought I could eat whatever I wanted now because I had dropped the weight, was exercising more than ever, and “knew” how to handle it.
Within two months — 2 months filled with hundreds of miles of cycling — I had put on 12 pounds.
Yep. No joke.
Back to 190… in the blink of an eye.
The First Step is Admitting It
I am an addict. A food addict. Just like a junkie or alcoholic — who is only one blink away from pissing his/her sobriety down the drain. And no matter how many years an alcoholic is sober, or a junkie is clean… we always remain only one blink, one bad decision away from the darkness returning.
I am taking the positive Glass Half Full attitude that I have realized the problem (though about 5 pounds late) and am now focused on doing all I can to get back those 12 precious pounds.
Because if I don’t — then 190 will turn into 200 in another blink. And then 210.
The solution is SO EASY… Don’t eat late; don’t eat garbage. I am starting over today. Part of me is scared because if you look back on this blog, you can see similar times when I’ve made this proclamation only to fail later. The dreaded yo-yo.
I am hoping the fact that I dropped 30 pounds in 4+ months without trying — just by acting and eating like a grownup — will help me this time. I have done it. Recently. I know how easy it is. One pound at a time. One meal out a time. One day at a time.
There is no finish line.
There is only a better life.
— Here’s to all of us beating down our demons like… you get the picture.
Ride your bike.
Keep eating better.
Fair winds and following seas, WIlly