I’m a stats girl. I like to see the progression of things, regardless of whether they’re spreadsheets, balance sheets, or weights and measurements.

I keep a desktop program to track my weight. When I start a new diet, I start a new file, and I’ve been working on the current one for nearly 3.5 years, so imagine my shock when I opened the program this morning and the wrong file opened. The file was from 2012, the last time I attempted to lose weight, and was labeled accordingly; in the history, there was also one from 2010. My current file started in 2013.

I panicked for a few seconds until I found the right file. Whew! I rested a lot easier, still a bit confounded that the one I’ve been using hadn’t automatically loaded, but then I opened the other two files to take a look out of curiosity. In 2010, I lost 51 pounds and then quit. In 2012, I lost 63 pounds, went on vacation, slid off the bandwagon, and regained all 63 pounds… plus about 35 more. In a little more than a year, no less.

This baby giraffe weighed in at 140 pounds at birth — and 5’10” tall.

After that, being able to record my all-time low for my 2013 file felt even more gratifying than normal. I’ve beat both those numbers combined — and not only that, but I’m on the verge of beating my all-time biggest number. I’ve been lucky enough to lose 140 pounds not just once — but twice; I knew I was beating the odds the first time, but twice? That’s likely pretty rare, and I mean to prevent the necessity of doing it a third time.

Rewinding a bit, I set out in 2013 not to break through that old number of 140.5 pounds (set in 2003-2005), but to get control of my eating and have one small thing I could feel better about. That’s all. I never held out any hope that I’d meet or exceed my old numbers, and believe me, I’m a competitive person at heart. I had no grand illusions that I’d do anything more than make an attempt to feel better. (On that note, though, I’m a mere half pound away from smashing that record! Hallelujah!)

I’ve written before that small increments add up, and I still firmly believe that; looking back at my current sheet, I have averaged .75 pounds loss per week. That’s far from an earth-shattering amount, and I personally know a ton of people who would be beyond frustrated to see such a slow loss on the scale.

I’m the proverbial tortoise; I’m sure there are plenty of folks who have needed to lose the kind of weight I have that have tried (and failed) several times during that 3.5 years, with losses and regains, but I’ve just kept plodding along. Those little losses have added up to more than I imagined possible.

In 2013, the difference between my weight and that 140.5 record was the equivalent of an entire adult human; now, it’s the equivalent of a small block of cheese.

I will gladly take the slow loss over the yoyo losses and gains; been there, done that. Even 140 pounds in, I still measure by tenths of a pound, rather than entire pounds; I am grateful for every ounce, every quarter of an inch, every time I notice my clothing is getting loose.

I’m not in a race, but chances are, I’m still going to win this by taking it slow and easy.