Same old story… no discernible difference from the last time I tried on the goal pants.
It’s been long enough, now, that I really need to change something, and I think it’s the fact that my program hasn’t been the best for the past several weeks; I’ve had a couple weeks in a row where I’ve had more than two up days, and several weeks in which I was unable to exercise my goal of five times per week. Next week, that changes.
These last couple weeks have been a bit trying, but this past week was probably the worst. My husband’s father passed away after struggling with Parkinson’s Disease for many years. As can often be the case, his death was both a relief and the surprising emotions that come with finality after watching him decline for so many years.
In part, I’m bringing this up because it delayed this week’s post. And in part, I’m mentioning it because things happen that are unplanned, regardless of how strong you feel you might be in your weight loss journey.
I found myself in a real mental war. Normally, in my carb and calorie cycling, my low days are on weekdays, and higher days on weekends. But that’s really only when my food choices are totally in my control. They really weren’t for several days this past week; while I normally don’t have any problems with turning away from potluck foods, it would have been awkward and rude to do so when people were supplying food as a condolence offering to the family. There are times when you just have to shut up and deal with it, and not make a fuss over it.
Yet at the same time, I was mentally flogging myself for not eating well, for not exercising, for not staying true to the course I’ve set for myself, feeling as if I was backsliding somehow. With all due respect… WTF? Why on earth do I do this to myself? Really, truly, the worst thing I had in days was a smallish piece of cake. My carbs were above my goal range for several days, but my calories were within acceptable range. And here I was, berating myself for not choosing better foods, even though they weren’t available.
Honestly, if I’m investing in a lifetime plan, there will be times when I chose to alter my eating and exercise plans. While this one was unplanned, it’s not the end of the world, and there’s no harm done. The world didn’t end. I didn’t gain 20 pounds from having a couple amaretto sours the night before a funeral. (There, I probably could have made better choices.) I have to learn to cut myself the occasional break, or I’ll get back into that punishment mindset that makes me sabotage myself.
So, if you’re standing at the plate and the pitcher throws you a curveball, you can watch it go by and strike out looking, or you can do the best you can. Any ball player will tell you that striking out swinging is better than to be caught looking; and for you non-baseball people, this is a metaphor for saying that you can either let crap bog you down, or you can try to make the best of it. 😉
Even though I just posted this today, I’ll keep up with my goal pants tomorrow, and hope for the best.
My goal pants try-on report: there doesn’t seem to be a difference in fit from last week. Neither down… or up, and that’s good, since I had a 3-day up period last week, and didn’t exercise as much as I had planned. That doesn’t mean I haven’t lost weight; it just means that the part of my body most noticeably measured by trying on pants is not currently getting smaller.
That’s really the only downside of using this method. Bodies don’t reduce all over at a constant rate; weight loss during one period might be all in your stomach, and during the next period, it’s your back and your arms, for instance. Because I only try on pants from one week to the next, I don’t know if I’m experiencing loss elsewhere, unless I put on a top or something else that’s noticeably looser. I have noticed that my bras are getting looser in the band; that’s been steadily happening over the past month or so.
Regardless, I’m happy where I am at this point, and will continue.
It’s weeks like this one that make me slap myself and remember to buckle down and not lose ground.
It was Labor Day weekend, and I took a third day at higher carbs and calories. But honestly, I think I overdid it. When I went back to lower carb yesterday, I was hungry all day long, which is my body’s usual response to having eaten too many carbs recently.
Even though I know it’s not the case, I’ll get through with a stretch of days like that and then beat myself up, and feel like I’ve lost ground. Like I’m 20 pounds heavier overnight. That’s not true, but I think that’s where self-sabotage creeps in, and says “you’ve already blown it, now it’s going to be difficult for you to lose”, with that underlying thought that maybe it’s not worth making that kind of effort if I can’t stick to it. All that mental baggage — because of going over on a weekend.
That’s crazy thinking. The occasional deviation isn’t going to derail my efforts; it’s when they become regular that they cause a problem. I went back to very low carb yesterday and stuck it out; and this morning, things are easier. I have to remember that I make things more difficult for myself if I stray too much on a higher day. And heck, you’d think I downed a couple dozen Snickers bars plus a gallon of ice cream… no, I had potato salad on Monday. I had some potato chips over the weekend. I can have those things on occasion; I just need to watch how much of them I have.
So this is Week 22, and midway through the week, I’ve already convinced myself that I won’t see a loss this week. Once again, beating myself up. I might see a loss; I might not, but I have to stop flogging myself. I’m just one month away from sticking with this plan for half a year, and I think that’s a lot to be proud of, and worth working for. I’ve seen a lot of improvements and changes in the last five months, and I plan on seeing that continue.
My goal pants continue to be *this close* to fitting. I need a little more loss in my upper thighs, and I’ll consider them a fit. It’s not like there’s a race or anything to get into them, although I’d love to be able to move on to the next pair by around the beginning of October, but if I do, great. If not, I keep going.
In a follow-up to my last post, I’d like to report that I bagged up five large garbage bags of clothes. Lots of those clothes are ones that are too small, but I never did like them, so away they go. When I am that size, again, chances are I wouldn’t wear the clothes because they aren’t my style. And life’s too short to be blowing time on things I don’t like. So, in the bag they went. My heart is not broken in the least, and I still have enough clothes of every size between my current size and size 16 to pretty much tide me through — with clothes that I like.
This past week, I ordered some clothes online; two tops from a brand I really like and have worn before, and a pair of capris from a brand I’ve never worn, before, but they were cheap and adding them got me free shipping. (Go ahead and laugh. When these places put a free shipping over X amount of dollars policy in place, they had suckers like me in mind.) So, the clothes arrived yesterday, and nothing fit as expected. The tops were both in a size that I currently wear in that brand but they don’t fit like the others; one feels like it’s a full size smaller, and the other fits a little tighter than normal. The capris are tight.
I’m pretty much like most of the female population in that I really don’t enjoy trying on clothes. And I’m pretty much like most of the overweight female population in being critical of myself and wanting to beat myself up when a size I thought would fit, doesn’t. But I didn’t feel that way, yesterday. I was okay with it. I’m going to try them all on again, today, and make a final assessment on whether I’ll keep them until they do fit, or return them. The funny thing? I placed the order to get the tops, threw in the capris, and it’s the capris that I have the fewest doubts about, even though they’re too tight to wear. That, my friends, is a mind hurdle. 😉
Most people do spring cleaning. Not me. I tend to wait until after the school year starts, and then I get that urge to put things in order. Right now, I’m working on putting clothes in order.
Usually, I don’t like going through my clothing when I’m not in a weight loss mode; I get depressed because I’ll come across something I like, and it doesn’t fit. Or I’ll realize that there are a lot of things that are currently in my wardrobe that I really don’t like, but I don’t want to replace because I don’t want to buy clothes in my current size. Those of you that have gained weight probably know what I’m talking about; buying something in a larger size feels like giving up.
Going through clothing when I’m in weight loss mode is a lot more fun. This chore has a few goals; for one, I like being able to reach into any drawer or pull any item from the closet, and know that it fits. I’m keeping one drawer/area for goal clothes, which are within one size smaller than what I’m currently wearing, but I’m keeping those items separate. (Plus, going through clothes is like shopping, except that I already own the stuff I like!)
Now, back when I lost 140 pounds and went through a ton of sizes, I did a lot of shopping at Goodwill and second-hand stores, because I didn’t plan to stay in a size for too long, and often bought things because they fit and were cheap, but weren’t necessarily my taste. This time, I have a different view of things; I want to look good and feel good while I’m losing weight, and I think I’m worth taking the time to make those things happen. Unlike the last time, I have plenty of clothes from smaller sizes; but I am also going to sift through them and get rid of the things I bought to just get me through.
Except for clothes that I wear to clean, I have the goal of wanting everything I wear to be something I really like. I currently have enough clothes to get me through until spring, at the very least, six months or so. Probably longer than that. Even if I don’t have many clothes to rotate through, they will be clothes that I like and that I feel good wearing. If I don’t love it, it’s going in the donation pile, even if it still has price tags on it. No matter where I am in this journey, it’s worth making the effort to feel good about myself.
So that’s where my mind is at right now; I’m doing well, and I’m doing things that will help me out as I continue this journey.
My goal pants are consistently getting just a tad closer to fitting each time I put them on. I really like the feeling that gives me.
Last year, about this time, I bought a lightweight jacket; it was just the tiniest bit snug when it arrived, and I lost a few more pounds after I got it, so by the time I fell off the wagon last year, it fit okay. Not perfect, but okay. Then I fell off the wagon and put weight back on, and couldn’t wear it when I needed it. Yesterday, I tried it on again, and it’s very close to wearable; it’s a little tight in the upper arms, which is where I had the problem last year. I think, though, that as long as I stay on course, it’s going to fit just fine when the weather cools off. Here, that’s still a couple of months off.
Also, last year, I was buying things with the intention of fitting into them later, and then I let doubt creep in. Now, I’m totally okay with things being a little snug, because I know with confidence that it’s just a matter of time before that article of clothing fits. It may not be tomorrow or next week, but it will fit.
So far, I’ve gone a full month further than last year; but mentally, I think I’m far beyond that point. I re-read some of my posts in the last few weeks of last year’s effort, and I noticed several things; key among them was allowing myself to be sabotaged, and that I was scale-obsessed. I was giving reports of gains/losses and why I thought they happened, and that’s where my focus was. I allowed myself to become frustrated, and I can see, looking back, the signs of impending failure. I blogged through Week 16, but I think I mentally jumped off around Week 12.
I also seemed to be hung up on whether or not other people would notice my loss, and whether I could just stop before they noticed. Boy, was I ever playing head games with myself! Granted, it’s nice when people notice, but I’m in the mindset right now that I just don’t care if or when they notice. I’m not doing this for them, and I don’t need their validation.
It also serves as a reminder to me to be mentally diligent; every time I’ve lost weight, I’ve believed that I’ve done better than the previous time, and yet, if I’d found the answers, I wouldn’t be where I am right now — losing the same pounds I’ve put on numerous times before. I think I’ve learned something each time, but the one thing I have to really get through my brain is that my brain controls everything: whether I’ll eat something off-plan, whether I’ll get out of bed to exercise, whether I’ll talk myself into a state of mind that makes backsliding easy.
I’m glad I made the decision to keep those old posts in this blog. They’ve served their purpose.
I’ve made it through the mental hurdle of beating the number of weeks I was on plan last year, before I bailed out. I’ve made it through some mental head games I was playing with myself over recent weeks. And now, here I am at Week 20.
I’m a slow loser. I’ve been at this for over four months; I haven’t lost a tremendous amount of weight, and no one has noticed. I’m not complaining. I’d love to lose 100 pounds overnight, but that’s not realistic. And right now, I’m all about being realistic. Even if you calculate no more than the 17 pounds I have currently listed, that’s still roughly 4 pounds a month, and if I were to continue at that rate, I’d be nearly 50 pounds down in a year. And I’d be thrilled with that.
In the long run, it’s just plain stupid to give up because of slow loss. Even if it’s slow, it’s still loss. Even if it’s slow, I feel a ton better physically than I did when I started. Even if it’s slow, I’m fitting in smaller clothing, and moving easier. And maybe the most important part: even if it’s slow, I’m glad to be doing something that’s benefiting my health, instead of feeling bad about myself and beating myself up for being too weak to stick with it. Been there… for the better part of my adult life.
It’s quite freeing to be able to let go of the burden of failure. I’m not failing, no matter how slowly things change, and in all honesty, it’s really not that slow. I think sometimes we get so hung up on what we think should be happening, that we mentally choke and start sabotaging ourselves. That sense of failure, that sense of making excuses because of this circumstance or that, raises its ugly head. We become our worst enemy because we allow ourselves to judge our success by indicators that aren’t even the most important ones.
I’m glad, right now, because I’m currently in a place where I am accessing all of the indicators and not just one or two, and I am most definitely one that lets the number on the scale rule out everything else. In part, I blame a society that stresses weight more than anything else, when the facts are that unless someone tells you their weight, you’d never know for sure. If we can look at someone else, and see that they’re fit, healthy, strong, look good, fit in their clothes, and think we’d love to be in their exact spot, would knowing what they weigh change anything? So why does it when we’re accessing our own levels of success? It’s just one indicator among many, and shouldn’t be the derailer that it often is.
I’m happy with keeping that number away from myself, right now. It’s working.
My goal pants have gone from sausage casing to tight to just being snug. They’re fitting better, and we know that that means: I’ve lost some more weight. In fact, they’re at the point where wearing them for a bit would relax them and they’d probably be close to comfy. Not quite yet, but close.
In fact, at this rate, I may beat my October 7 deadline for them to fit. Believe me, I wouldn’t complain about that at all!
This morning, I ordered new bathing suits in a size smaller than the ones I’m wearing. These are bathing suits I wear for pool workouts, and the chlorine destroys them pretty quickly. There’s a little wear left in the ones I have, so even if the new ones don’t fit immediately, I can get by until they do.
I’m wearing size 24 in a lot of things, now; my starting size was 26. I’ve gone from 3X to 2X in tops. I’ve been thinking forward; while I am a slow loser, I don’t think it would be totally out of the question to be a size 18 or 20 by this time next year.
While I believe clothing size is just a number, there’s also a big mental aspect to making that Plus Size jump. Several years ago, before I first did Atkins, I wore size 32 jeans that I had to get at Catherine’s, and at the time, I think it was either the biggest jean size on the rack, or close to it. It may only have been that was close to the top size for zip-up jeans; I refuse to wear jeans that don’t have a zipper, and some women’s jeans are just pull-ons.
It was a hayooooooge deal to me when I lost enough weight to be able to shop at Walmart for my clothes. The top Plus size generally available at Walmart is/was 26. When I could fit in size 26 jeans, I was thrilled to death. I could buy jeans for $20 instead of $50. Not to mention, most of the clothes in extreme plus sizes are ugly beyond measure.
When I worked my way through the plus sizes and landed at the top of regular sizes, I was in absolute disbelief. This meant I could go into just about any store and find clothes that would fit me. I could wear cute clothes. Sure, I still had a lot of weight to lose, but being out of plus sizes was a goal I thought I’d never achieve.
So, having slid back into plus sizes, and worse, topping out the plus sizes at places like Walmart, was quite the wake-up call; especially when my size 26 jeans got tight. Tight enough that I shouldn’t have been wearing them, but I absolutely refused to go back to places like Catherine’s for jeans.
Managing to get below the top plus sizes is encouraging to me. While I am a slow loser, I think that being in a size 18 or 20 by this time next year is totally reasonable. Regardless of what the scale says — and mind you, I don’t really know what it says right now, anyway — I’m delighted to be working my way back down through the numbers.
A final note: if you happen to be a plus-size clothing designer and you’re reading this, or even better, a buyer for a major department store, please see to it that cap sleeves on plus-size tops die. Thanks.