I Love Results.

Sometimes (ok, all the time) I set mini goals inside my head for what I would like to accomplish for the week. Sometimes they are weigh-in related, (lose 2 pounds, maintain, etc.), sometimes they are exercise related (run at least 4 times this week, run a mile sub 10 min, etc.) sometimes they are food related (no crap, no crap, no crap etc.). Well, this week I had a goal in my head of getting my ass back out onto the bike path for some running, and to have a 3 pound loss on the scale come Monday (today).

I DID IT. I started re-conditioning last week, and today I woke up to a full on 3 pound loss. I did not dilly-dally around the half weigh (way?) point to my goal, I blasted through, and I now have less weight to lose than I have already lost to meet my first goal.

Oh, and I was trying to think back to the last time I knew when I was roughly around my current weight, and it was four years ago. I haven't been this "tiny" in four years. Coincidentally right about the time I got my first desk job. Funny. And the worst possible desk job at that...working for a fancy food distributor where all I did was talk about food all day, eat samples, and eat more samples.

In fact, true to fat-girl form, I blamed having a desk job as a reason why I couldn't lose weight. I tried going for walks at lunch time. I joined a gym close to work with a co-worker and we went at lunch time. I joined a different gym and went after work. I started running in the mornings. In the summers I would ride my bike to work. I tried giving up meat. I tried giving up artificial sweeteners. I tried eating more fiber. I could never pull it all together at once. When I was on my exercise kicks, I was eating anything and everything. When I was on one of my "giving up this, or that" kicks, I would find ways to cheat, and my exercise was nearly non-existent.

Its so easy to look back now and see all the places I went wrong. No, went wrong is not the right description...all the places I deceived myself. I deceived myself into thinking that a walk at lunch time was sufficient. I deceived myself in every possible way so that I could continue to eat what I wanted. I just wasn't ready. Perhaps I needed those 4 years to teach me a life lesson. There are things that I will NEVER be able to eat again. I know that now, and I'm totally fine with it because I have seen what those things do to me.

I see now that simply pulling tidbits of diet and health information from various sources just lead me to weave a quilt of whatever was convenient for me, and kept leading me back to blaming my desk job. Nothing was going to work for me until I figured out why eating food was so damn important to me, and I was honest with myself. Hindsight is always 20/20.