I’m one of those people who detests, no, loathes, seeing failure. For that reason, I tend to not only be very risk averse, but I will also avoid people (or things) that I know I have failed, and I only want to be around them when I am doing my best. I can’t stand other people’s disappointment, because that breeds personal disappointment.
All of that to say I haven’t gotten back on the Wii since… well, 41 days.
I just couldn’t bear to see that poor little computerized Mii bloat up again with weight gain, to see that BMI scale inch back upward. It was too much stress for this woman!
Tonight, I decided to get back on it before I went to the function I’m attending. I don’t even know how I rationalized this with myself other than I was alone, my family was out, and my failure would be personal and intimate instead of a group affair.
To my surprise and delight, I was exactly the same as the last time I’d measured those 41 days ago. So, regardless of how far I’d fallen, when I climbed back on the wagon, there were results – namely, that I hadn’t slid so far back that I’d spend another several weeks just getting back down to my baseline.
Now that’s what I call a pep talk. I’m at my progress point – It’s as though I paused, and now I can resume. That buoys my spirits and makes me feel this was really pretty valid to live through this experiment.
It’s kind of funny, because I had been feeling bloated and fat all day. My jeans, though they fit great through the waist, seemed tighter in the thigh, and I just felt as though I was stalled and going nowhere. I was ready to give up. Instead, I’m on track. I’m working the excesses of the past month to six weeks off of me, planning to never again lose control and inch that far up.
Anyhow, I’m dressed to kill, have make-up and high heels, and I’m ready for the night. I feel good, in control, and empowered.