This past week, I hit a speed bump. I’ve been pretty happy for the past 3+ weeks to have lost a nice amount of weight (15 pounds before this week; see the update on that, below), and to only have seen losses on the scale.
I know, though, that at some point, that would change, and that’s the detriment of weighing daily; no matter what I feel like otherwise, that number on the scale does destructive things to my brain. My evil negative-talking alter ego jumps out and starts feeding on my insecurities.
From a purely physiological standpoint, I know that I’m on track with my diet. If a calorie is a calorie is a calorie (a subject I have some opinions about, but I’ll leave for another day), it takes 3500 calories over and above what your body needs to maintain itself in order to gain one pound of fat. While I am on a low carb plan, I also pay attention to calories. I track my food and water intake religiously.
So, last weekend, when the scale drifted up two pounds, I knew I hadn’t overeaten 7000 calories that added on a little over two pounds in just as many days. What I was carrying was water weight. I could feel the bloat and the discomfort in my joints. Historically, my body has gained up to fifteen pounds of excess water weight, and let me tell you — that’s extremely painful. In the grand scheme of things, those two additional pounds were just something to watch and take note of. I adapted by making sure I fully hydrated each day, because the body may retain fluids when it’s dehydrated.
Everything else was below the threshold I set for myself in order to lose weight. I didn’t deviate. So, the extra weight was water, and in time, the water would filter out of my body.
Logically, anyway.
But that’s when my bad brain starts kicking me around.
“Oh, sure, it’s water weight! You did something wrong. You failed. You’re lying to yourself.”
“Every morning when you step on the scale, you’re making it worse. What you’re doing isn’t working. Why are you making this effort if it isn’t going to work?”
“Is that whole ‘water retention’ theory even legit? How long are you going to let yourself continue to gain weight from ‘water retention’ before you do something about it, like go get a diuretic to get rid of it? How do you know, for sure, it’s water?”
“Making excuses already? Do you even believe this crap you tell yourself?”
The negative self-talk is a huge problem for me. I’m writing this blog on Thursday night; tomorrow morning, Friday, is my official weigh-in day, and I haven’t been below my lowest weight since last Friday. There’s a diseased part of me that wants desperately to wake up in the morning and not only see a two pound loss of the water I gained, but a couple more pounds loss in addition, so I can report at least a two pound loss this week. I’m that competitive — with myself, telling myself that if I can’t achieve that simple number, I’m failing.
And worse: if I’m failing, I should give up.
Because I’ve done that every single time before — and giving up worked so well for me. (*insert eye roll*) It’s dumb to give up and give in to that voice, and I know it. Sometimes that voice is just a little whisper, and sometimes it screams at me. Sometimes, I imagine it even comes out of other people’s mouths, actions, or attitudes when they do or say something that I perceive as criticism of my weight.
Matthew Inman, author of The Oatmeal comics, even addressed this in one of his comics; he calls it The Blerch (http://theoatmeal.com/comics/running). This is a must-read if you’re working on getting healthier; his description of The Blerch is pretty close to that nasty voice that plagues me at times when I’m vulnerable.
I accept that the voice exists, and while I acknowledge it, that doesn’t mean I’m going to give in. No, logic has to prevail when I reach the inevitable speed bump, like I did this week. I have to shut out the voice.
It’s Friday morning, now. The weigh-in: I’m still at 15 pounds down, so it’s unchanged for the week. The good news is that the difference in weight is only .2 pounds up from last week; higher, but the water weight is decreasing. I’ll take that. I’d love to report a higher number for pounds lost, but that will come in time.
Next week will complete one month on plan; I’ll be measuring, taking photos again, and reviewing how things have gone. At this point, if 15 pounds turns out to be the final for the month, I’m okay with it: that’s 15 pounds that used to be attached to my body and isn’t, anymore.