Remember yesterday when I reported my exciting-but-not-that-exciting-because-I'm-still-discouraged 15-pound weight loss, as measured on my home scale? Well, I thought maybe today I'd be more encouraged if I went into Weight Watchers and did an official weigh-in.
And I was up 0.2 pounds from where I was at Weight Watchers two weeks ago. (This was 3 pounds heavier than my apparent liar of a home scale said I was, too.) And I took off my sweatshirt and had gone to the bathroom before the weigh-in, so that 0.2-pound figure was being generous.
All that planning and cooking and measuring, all that spinning and running and lifting, and ...
Look, I've done Weight Watchers many times before, and I know how it works. You can't expect your weight loss to comply with a regular weekly weigh-in schedule. Your weight fluctuates with your womanly cycles, maybe your body is holding onto water because you ate something high in salt, maybe you're gaining muscle that will eventually aid in your weight loss.
But damn, if it isn't so effing frustrating to have a week where you gain.
I've started to consider that maybe I'm actually undereating, not compensating for my caloric burn from exercise, so that my metabolism has slowed down. But I just can't wrap my head around the idea of eating more to lose weight, and yes, I know, that's what the research says, but the whole thing sounds like something a fat lady would say to justify ordering dessert.
And right now I'm scared to eat anything. No grabbing extra crackers! You'll get 16 reduced-fat Wheat Thins and like it! Don't even think about sneaking those fries off your kid's plate! You shouldn't even be eating an entire salad!
Now I'm afraid to eat.
I'm going to give it one more weigh-in before I more to the "eating more" approach, just to see if this week was some kind of fluke.
And the good news is, I'm stubborn. I will not let the Evil Forces of Weight Gainitude defeat me! I must win!
But somebody, please say something encouraging now!