So, yesterday I decided that I desperately need to return to Weight Watchers. I spent some time looking around the 100+ pounds to lose boards. I thought about my friends who have lost that or nearly that...and started after I did. I am deeply disappointed in myself for not only failing to lose, but gaining everything back by not taking good care of myself.
Now that I have my bike, now that the season is right for all kinds of fruits & veggies, now that I am worried about my knee, and (most importantly) now that I am feeling panicky about breaking new ground, crossing thresholds of fatness...it is, I hope, time for me to actually succeed. I have grave doubts about my ability to do this. It seems such a huge undertaking. But, I am venturing forth, with my little heart beating so fast at the thought of trying again. I am flat-out scared. I am scared to weigh in, scared that their scales will take me over the threshold, where my scale has not gone. I am even more scared of trying to live each day on program. Terrified of really trying to do this. At least this time, I have exercise I love that isn't a hassle to do.
I have set some rewards for 10%-reaching. I should set up a good solid list of goals after my weigh-in, once I know exactly where I stand on the official scale. Not only for 10% goals, but perhaps for increments of 25 pounds. Maybe something little for the first 10. But, I do know that for my first 10%, I plan to go to the spa with K & get a facial. Massage is fine, but it's the facials I really love. For my second 10%, I may get a canopy/mosquito net for over the bed. Perhaps. For my third 10%, maybe a sari? A lovely pink one.
So, last night, knowing that today is "Get Serious Day", I indulged in a bunch of crap. When J got home from work, we rode our bikes up to Nick's for dinner. The patio wasn't open (it's probably too cold, anyway), but we sat in the quiet room. I was so uncomfortable in there last time, but this time I was in jeans & felt much more at ease. S & E from church were in there...sat next to us. They ordered alcohol, which shouldn't have surprised me but did. I have all these weird notions that everyone at church is incredibly strait-laced & my doors are constantly being blown off when I actually get to know them outside of our church personas. We talked about Michigan (they spend the summer on the U.P. & are about to go), hockey & other sports (they used to go to my cousin's hockey games at OSU & had just come from a high school baseball game), food, and tattoos/piercings. S, it turns out, has seven ear holes (including an upper one) and two tattoos! She got the first one, a football on her right thigh, when she was 50. The next, a helmet on her left calf, was when she was 65. She plans on getting a goalpost on her lower back when she turns 80! That is just cool.
The crap-indulging, though, is what I intended to divulge. J & I ordered fried morels (she didn't like them, so I ate most of them...they weren't as good as mine, but I have no morels), fried green tomatoes (they were great, thin-sliced & crisp), and Nick's chips. On top of that, I had a breaded, deep-fried chicken sandwich (add cheese & mayo, for God's sake) & J had a Pub Burger, dripping with tartar sauce. Jesus!
Good thing we had at least ridden our bikes there! It was lovely to ride home in the gathering dusk together. With the boys gone to camp & the evening like it was, it felt very much like when we were first dating. I think we've both been longing for having things like that. Things are always good between us, but those evenings spent doing something other than getting things accomplished...playing board games or cards, going for walks, out to dinner on a weeknight with no kids...they feel different.
So, I am now off to face the scale. I shiver in my boots.