I’m on a brief halt with weight loss; for me, they come quite often, and are probably hormonal in nature. I lose a little, and my weight stalls or even rises a bit. Then, I lose several pounds at once — only to have a few more weeks of time when that scale just isn’t going to budge.

This is my ‘normal’. The graph of my weight loss looks more like a staircase than a slanted line. That’s the way my body is; getting frustrated by it isn’t constructive.

When I’m losing, I generally feel pretty good about my losses. The times when I get shaky and start doubting myself are during the phases when, like now, I’ve probably got a few “real” pounds, and a lot of water weight, sloshing around like my own personal ocean. (Don’t get me wrong… they’re both “weight”, and I’ll take a loss of either kind, but water weight doesn’t require the same kind of work that actual fat requires to lose it.)

It’s these times that feel like I’m moving in slow motion, as if my losing spurt was a decade ago rather than a few weeks. These are the dangerous times for head games, and like last week, I have to be careful to make sure my mental doors are fully closed against the voices that encourage me to just give up. It’s usually the slips — not saying ‘no’ to things I should refuse, and not being focused on goals — that inevitably do me in, rather than just jumping off plan entirely, with gusto, with a box of donuts in one hand and a loaf of baclava in the other. No, I’m much more likely to just quietly drift off and hope no one notices.

I notice, though. When I do that, I immediately feel like a heel. I know when it’s happening, and my brain shifts into a mode where I just ignore those growing feelings of disappointment, and allow myself to derail. The fight in me that keeps me strong ebbs away, and I don’t push the way I should.

The facts are that there are always challenges to structured plans. I felt myself sliding to that point before the last blog, which is why I pulled myself up and reminded myself that small slips lead to avalanches if left unchecked, and it’s a hell of a lot harder to dig yourself out from an avalanche than it is to recover from a small slip.

I’ve had a good week, eating on plan, doing everything right… and yet, my own personal ocean is still sloshing away. I’m still at the exact same weight I was one week ago. If I hadn’t gotten my brain back into the right place, this week would have surely brought on the avalanche. Nothing is more frustrating to me to feel as if I’m sliding backwards, despite doing what I’m supposed to be doing. It makes me doubt myself.

These are the times when I’m glad that I’ve chosen to be so open about my weight loss efforts. Some of you noticed that my blog was delayed last week; it was more because of some issues that needed a resolution and required my time, but I also admit there was the niggling thought of just not writing a blog at all. That would have just been a bit more of a slide. These things accumulate — until I feel so embarrassed by omissions that I’m likely not to post at all, and hope no one says anything.

Although it’s painful to be transparent at times, I’m really quite thankful, today, for having chosen to be so. Knowing that people would notice, knowing that I owe it to myself to be able to hold my head up and not put myself in the position where I’m embarrassed over yet-another-failed-diet, is a lifesaver.

Despite not losing an ounce this week for the effort I’ve put in, I’ve grounded myself. I know my body’s goofy when it comes to the ups and downs of weight loss. Even though it seems like it’s taking forever, I’ll be proudly posting a new low in a matter of a few weeks. Repeat that cycle enough, and I’ll reach my goal.

Weight loss in slow motion is still weight loss.

(Okay. Anyone who really knows me also knows that I wouldn’t jump off plan for donuts and baclava. I’d more likely have a plate of pirogi in one hand, and soft pretzels in the other.)