Why is it that I’m not one of those women who, when depressed/stressed, stop eating?  They become thin, shivering in an early morning breeze.  Instead, I gain 5 pounds over the last month and sweat before I’m even out of bed. 

I run 3-4 times a week, and work out 2-3 more times a week.  This means I’ve fallen a little bit off the WW wagon, but I know how to get back on.  I just get frustrated at times - compared to the way I used to eat, this is nothing!  I hate that it is so difficult to lose weight.  I will say that at least, under my fat, I’m very muscular and stronger than I’ve ever been.  So even if I look like a pack mule, I can also haul food and water like a pack mule.  Considering I’m moving, that may come in handy. 

In the meantime, I’m on a sugar, latte and everything tasty fast.  According to today’s People online, Gwyneth Paltrow got in great shape drinking Kale juice.  The mere thought of that makes me gag, but whatever works. 

My online support group does weigh-ins on Friday.  The past few weeks on WW have been hard.  I’ve been tired, hungry, and slightly demotivated.  I hit a plateau in my workouts and couldn’t push through them and my schedule has been all screwed up with the girls being out of camp/preschool.  But today, I got a new motivation.  I am literally 1 pound away from hitting 30 pounds lost. 

School starts next week (for Lily - still one more week to go with Arden).  I can go back to my morning workouts without inconveniencing Mike or traumatizing the girls by “forcing them” to play at the Y in the afternoon. 

After doing a bit of self-analysis, I have a feeling that losing it is, relatively speaking, the easy part.  Living this way for the rest of my life might be just a tad bit more challenging.  I’m putting my 12-step hat on and taking it one day at a time. 

On another note, Lily and I went to her 1st grade open house yesterday.  She was dreading it, primarily because she loves her babysitter and didn’t want to waste precious time with silly things like school and meeting her new teacher and seeing her desk.  She was really shy and hid behind me most of the time.  We visited Mrs. Daniels, and she finally came out of her shell a bit to hug her.  Her new teacher seems great and she has a “big girl” desk (last year they sat at tables of four).  I for one am totally ready for school to start!  Can I get a hurray? 

Today is my weigh-in day.  I lost 2.5 pounds this week.  However, last week I GAINED a pound.  I got a stern message from Weight Watchers telling me I’m losing too much weight too quickly, and I need to slow down.  I just think it’s funny that it doesn’t humiliate and shame me when I gain, but when I lose “too much” I get my knuckles rapped.  I’ll gladly take the knuckle-rapping as opposed to the “Oh, you seem to have gained this week.  Just keep doing what you’re doing!” messages. 

Total weight loss:  22.5 pounds. 

I’m not going to meet my goal of 30 pounds lost before I head to Traverse City, but I came close enough. 

Speaking of, a week from yesterday I’ll be there.  I’m starting to freak out. I’m really, really excited to see Tricia, Julie, Allison, Pat, and a few others, but I’m also knotted up with anxiety about it.  I assume this is all normal stuff.  Honestly, the thing I worry the most about is that being in my home town will bring back a rush of really bad or painful memories.  I’m hoping to be pleasantly surprised by making new, happier memories there.  I haven’t even asked Tricia if she has wireless at home so there’s a chance I may not even be online, which actually sounds like a real vacation.  No kids, no internet, no responsibilities?  Yeah, vacation.

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Thora is settling in.  Since the Great Carpet Ripping of 2009, she’s been fine. The SPCA loaned us an airline crate. She hasn’t been able to jailbreak out of it yet, and she hasn’t hurt herself either.  She is still velcro dog but I successfully went to the bathroom without her glued to my side yesterday, and one other time I left the room and she stayed sleeping on the floor in the other room.  Baby steps . . .

A few people have commented on how quickly we adopted Thora.  It was pretty quick.  However, I think it’s been the best decision for our family.  Lily and Arden were struggling with the loss of Delilah, and I couldn’t stand the silence of the house.  Having Thora has been very therapeutic, but none of us are over Delilah’s loss.  When I got a river stone memorial from my sister yesterday, I broke into tears in the parking lot of the Little Gym.  I’m sure picking up her ashes will yield the same result.  It’s been truly wonderful watching Arden fall in love with her “new doggie” and watching Lily attempt to walk a dog that outweighs her by 30 pounds.  We all still miss Delilah. Thora is just making the ache a little smaller.

Hey, guess what?  I’m kind of a perfectionist.  It’s a theme that has followed me throughout the years.  No matter how good I was at something, it wasn’t good enough. Even being really good at starving or withholding food wasn’t enough.  Someone was always doing it better than me.  One of my college roommates was anorexic.  It was like the battle of diseases - my bulimia versus her anorexia.  In retrospect it was so sick, it would have made for good reality tv.  “Watch her puke as her roommate starves!  Who can eat less than the other?  Tune in at 10 for the final showdown!”

Everytime I cycle through gaining weight, then losing it, the extremes are hard to temper.  At one extreme, I can’t imagine ever eating sensibly again.  My inner demon says, “You’ve denied for years.  You deserve whatever you want, whenever you want it.”  On the other extreme, my inner demon says, “You fat pig - you can never again eat like other people.  You aren’t like other people.  Barley and oats for the rest of your life.”

Doing Weight Watchers has been fairly enlightening.  Because no foods are verboten, I don’t get that panicky, “OH MY GOD THAT COOKIE WILL KILL ME” feeling like I did during the two years I went without flour or sugar.  And because I am “allowed” to eat whatever, I tend to want certain foods less.  In this respect, Weight Watchers - for now - has been successful.  I’ve struggled with food for too long to be able to proclaim that it’s the Perfect Diet. 

Part of growing older and looking back over all the years of the struggle has proven to me once again that there is no such thing as perfection.  I was reading an article today on “Phantom Fat” and unfortunately I can really relate to it.  Even at my thinnest, I only saw the fat girl lurking beneath the skin.  How could I be 102 pounds and think I was fat? Oh, the joy of a messed up head . . . and how annoying!  how irritating! that all these years later I still struggle with the image in the mirror.

I will say that I’m more able to accept the imperfections of my diet.  That occasionally I will order french fries with my grilled chicken, or get an ice cream cone with the kids.  That’s the joy of being “normal” and of eating “normally”.  Food isn’t good or bad - just because it’s a donut doesn’t mean it’s a convicted felon and should be in food jail.  Salad isn’t angelic, nor is broccoli.  I came face to face with that when I found myself eating a piece of cold pizza at 3 o’clock in the afternoon (!!!).  My first instinct was to freak out and feel like I’d ruined not only my day, but my entire life.  That combination of dough, tomatoes and cheese had the power to just crush my resolve and make me feel tiny (and huge, all at the same time).  Later, after the panic had subsided, I put it into perspective.  It was a piece of pizza.  A simple piece.

As the weight comes off, I’m hopeful my need to be perfect will come off along with it.  Hope is a very good thing. 

I’m thrilled this week.  Of course next week I’ll be in Texas where everything is bigger, including the food, but for this week I’m going to allow myself to be super excited because I lost another 2 pounds.  I am 5 pounds away from my 20 pound weight loss.  And now I am off to the Y.  Would it be counter-productive to celebrate with a huge stack of pancakes?