I had the pleasure of enjoying a week with my adult daughter, who flew in for a work-related task, but bunked at our house. She left this morning; and no matter how old she gets, there’s a little tug on my heart any time she walks out the door.

My daughter is a lot like me in many regards, and unfortunately for her, that includes inheritance of a genetic component that complicates maintaining a healthy weight. My husband’s family is not naturally thin, either, so she has a double dose. While she’s fighting the good fight and her issues don’t appear to be as serious as mine are, this isn’t a trait I would have willingly passed on to anyone.

I know, from direct experience, that when you have a genetic predisposition toward easy weight gain, and that ability to maintain slips out of your grasp, the fight to get back to a healthy and manageable weight can lead to complications. In my case, yoyo dieting and poor choices when I was young likely contributed to the metabolic issues I have; and they now go far beyond simple genetics. The extra 10 pounds I carried in my late teens quickly bloomed to an extra 100 by the time I was in my early twenties, an extra 150 by the time my daughter was born in my late twenties, and even more after that. What was once a bump in the road is now a mountain.

The number of diets I slid off of because of frustration with (perceived) stalls probably numbers in the dozens. I reach a point where I think my body just won’t lose anymore, despite still being far above a healthy weight. Am I fighting genetics? The complications of thyroid disease? Metabolic resistance? And now, menopause? My answer these days is — all of them. Every single one.

I am determined to outlast these mounting complications. I can get mad all I want over the unfairness of having drawn a crappy hand when it comes to Genetics Poker, but getting ticked off by it does nothing to change the reality… unless, of course, I do something stupid like let the weight pile back on. Getting angry about it does nothing to change the cards I’ve been dealt, unless I focus that anger on beating the odds; giving up is not an option. In my world of pathetic gambling metaphors, I guarantee you that weight gain is a sucker’s bet.

I find myself, lately, sliding toward the mindset that will keep me from eventual success; I made poor food choices just last night, because I was tired of hunting on restaurant menus for things I can eat without risking my plan. It’s a sign of giving up, and I need to stop it. While the occasional off-plan meal won’t kill me, the mental flagging of spirit will. That is inevitably why I chose to write this blog; it’s a weekly reality check that forces me to assess my situation, rather than let my focus drift.

My weight loss has stalled for the last six weeks or so. I see the doctor next week for a normal check-up; this is actually good timing, because I intend to ask him about metabolic resistance. He’s a good guy, and I’m sure talking to him will also help me buckle down on my efforts. This is the time of year when I really need to be mentally strong and confident; and I need to pull out my bag of tricks and do what works to get back in the right mindset for success.