Anyway, I have no idea how much I weigh right now because I didn’t weigh myself this morning. Yesterday morning I was at 194 lbs even, but I had McDonald’s for lunch today (no time, no choices!) so we’ll see what happens.

I hate my new fat scale.

Makes 4 servings as a main dish, 6 servings as a side dish

Ingredients:

• 1 15 oz can Black Beans (drained and rinsed)
• 1 15 oz can Pinto Beans (drained and rinsed)
• 1 15 oz can Kidney Beans (drained and rinsed)
• 8 oz chunky salsa
• Avocado
• Fat-free Sour Cream

Directions:

1. Drain and rinse all the canned beans, and combine in a bowl. (Draining and rinsing is extremely important, which is why it is listed here in the directions and also in the ingredients: you can drastically reduce your sodium intake simply by rinsing the beans of the sauce they are canned in!)

2. Add salsa to the beans and mix completely. (For extra kick, add chili powder/peppers to taste or simply use a spicier salsa). Refrigerate at least fifteen minutes.

3. Top individual servings with sliced avocado and fat-free sour cream to taste. (Important: if you will be serving some of the salad now and saving some for later, do not add the avocado and sour cream in until you are ready to serve.)

Anyway, I’ve decided that today I will be optimistic. I have found one thing that I can be glad about with the fat new scale purchase: it might help me to stop weighing every day. Seeing where I am and feeling this disappointment could be just the thing to keep me from stepping on that scale every morning. Also, knowing that I’m going to see the losses in smaller increments (tiny 0.2 lb increments instead of 0.5 lb increments that feel like they actually mean something) might help. We’ll see. As of this morning, I was down (up?) to 194 lbs; I haven’t decided yet if I will weigh in tomorrow or not.

And just for the purposes of being self-aware… I’m pretty sure that it’s the booze that has been bringing me down. For the most part on this diet I’ve been extremely moderate (oxymoron?) with my drinking. And I’m still not going out to get drunk or anything like that. But in the past week or ten days, I have had several glasses of wine. Usually no more than one per day, and red – which is allowed in moderation on SBD – but still. Things that are allowed in moderation shouldn’t be had every day; that’s just not moderate. And so I will make a point to cut back on my wino-ing. Maybe wine once a week from now on – that seems moderate enough for me.

Last night, I came to realize that my scale was broken. I got on it just to check things out and get a little preview for the morning, and it said 180 lbs. And then the numbers started going up. And then they started going down. And Hubbo got on and it said he was in the 140s, which he’s not, and then it said he was in the 150s, which he’s also not.

We bought a new scale – a fancy one that claims to tell you your body fat and water weight percentage. It also tells me that I am not as light as I thought I was.

The thing is that I don’t know when my other scale started to go crazy. How long have I been deluding myself? Did I ever really hit my goal of 191 lbs? I’m not sure if the scale was broken the whole time or if it just happens to register less weight on it in general. It’s so frustrating not to know!

But because I don’t know, I can’t adjust any of my prior records. And so this week will show up as a gain on my track record because, although I’m fairly certain that I didn’t gain weight, the new scale shows a bigger number than the old scale. 

So here’s the bitter truth (as told by new scale):

Last night I was sitting on the couch, ready to cook my pre-made kabobs from Whole Foods, knowing that they were healthy and ready to go and diet-approved… and I lost it. I had what could best be described as a temper tantrum, complete with near-tears. The exchange went something like, “But I don’t want kabobs! I want a cheeseburger!” The idea of eating another diet meal was suddenly revolting and oppressive.

This morning I realized that my tantrum wasn’t really about kabobs and cheeseburgers. In fact, I had a slice of pizza and a Greek salad, so I know that my craving wasn’t really for a burger at all. It was for freedom.

Here’s the deal: before I started this diet, I was a food addict. I had a totally unhealthy view of what food was meant for and how to treat it – essentially, an eating disorder. Now that I am on the diet, I have re-learned a lot of things about how to relate to food and making healthy decisions, but there still has to be a distinction between “good food” and “bad food,” because 1) these rules help me to develop healthy habits, and 2) they provide a buffer for me to ensure that I don’t rely only on my own disordered eating judgement and totally fall off the wagon.

But creating rules about what is “good food” and what is “bad food,” when taken too far, can also lead to disordered eating of a different kind. I think sometimes as dieters we forget that food is not inherently bad for you; it’s too much food, or too much of a certain type of food and not enough of others, that hurts us. I think that the reason a lot of diets (and dieters) fail is that we create this food morality of what is good and what is bad, and then can’t handle the guilt if we eat something off the “bad” list. We feel like failures and we give up.

Yes, restrictions are good; I know what I should and shouldn’t eat according to my diet. But I also know that while my diet happens to be low-carb, that doesn’t mean that all carbs are bad or that if I eat them I will never lose another pound and I am condemning myself to eternal obesity. This is yet another facet of how I feel about self-control: it is I – not the food, not even the diet – who needs to be in control of what I eat. Last night, I made the executive decision to have a slice of pizza, and yesterday morning I had sugar in my coffee.

This morning, I am still at my low of 191 lbs. 

My success is not measured by how well I follow the rules of the South Beach Diet. It is measured by the increasing confidence I have in my own ability to eat a healthy, balanced diet in the real world, where people go to restaurants, sometimes order pizza, and occasionally eat fast food. Those are not the staples of my diet simply because I eat them every now and then. I just have to remind myself of this.

My new mantra: It is ok to eat food!

Anyway, the scale was noncommittal this morning (why is my scale so crappy? Oh, right. I bought the cheapest one I could find…) so I don’t know my weight. I’m suspecting it is somewhere around 192 or so. Of course, I’m currently drinking coffee with a bunch of white sugar dumped in because I used the last of the Splenda packets I’ve been keeping in my wallet yesterday and forgot to replenish. Hopefully a couple teaspoons of sugar won’t hurt, but I feel bad about it anyway.

Of course, what should one do after one receives a weight-loss reward? Follow my example, and have a decadent meal! Last night at La Provence, I cheated with: some baguette and crackers (eaten with cheese), two glasses of white wine, and a piece of chocolate mousse cake which Hubbo and I shared. My entree (Couscous Merguez) was cheat-free, as far as I know, unless I am not allowed lamb. It was totally worth it. This morning I weighed 193 lbs and was fine with that; I think I still have time to knock off what I gained.

Might be doing some more Moroccan-style food tonight… We’ll see what the fishmonger has in store for me.

When I got home from work, I was exhausted. I had slept maybe four hours the night before, and every night this week we have been volunteering at VBS (Vacation Bible School) for the kids at our church. This means that I have been getting off work one hour early to come home and make dinner, so that Hubbo can eat right when he gets home and we can leave about 15 minutes later.

I really, really didn’t want to cook. So I told Hubbo to pick up some Sonic on the way home. Aaand… I rationalized to myself that since I couldn’t have French Fries with my burger, I could have an order of popcorn chicken on the side.

This was, of course, after I had already had a slice of toast for breakfast, and a half-sandwich for lunch, so we are talking carb-mania here. I had such a stomachache last night – I think I shocked my system by eating the crap that it’s not used to anymore.

This morning there was no change: 191 lbs again. I got so lucky.

But the experience did make me realize something. It’s not necessarily cravings for bad foods that make me break my diet, or not being able to resist desserts or extra servings and whatnot. It’s laziness. This is not the first time that I have been too tired to cook and we had to go somewhere cheap and fast due to our busy schedule. On the one hand, this is a good thing, because it means that I don’t really have a will-power problem when it comes to making good decisions. On the other hand, this is terrible, because my busy schedule is most likely not going to change any time soon, so this excuse – and the bad habits that go with it – might not be going away.

Food for thought, I guess.

Ahem.

That is to say, of course: I am not obese anymore. This morning I weighed in at 191 lbs, and my BMI is officially under 30. Soon, probably tomorrow, I will be heading to Dillard’s or Macy’s to pick up a pair of these, or something like them, as my reward. I will also try to get a photo of myself sometime today.

This is a huge, huge, HUGE goal for me. I have been looking forward to this for a long time. Wow. (See the goals page for info on my next goal.)

Now, I’d like to take this opportunity to discuss the BMI (Body Mass Index), as some of you out there are no doubt peeved that I seem to put so much stock into the 0.1 point on this scale that separates the obese from the overweight. In fact, there are some of you out there who may think that the BMI might be better entitled the BSI – that is, the index of something else entirely.

For those of you new to this argument, wiki discusses both the uses and the limitations of the BMI scale. For those of you who have already formulated an opinion on the matter, allow me to explain myself.

I know that the BMI does not take into account different body types, how much muscle you have compared to fat, your age, or lots of other variables. I know that degrees of obesity and weight problems should only be measured on a person-by-person basis. I know that some bodies function better when they carry around more or less weight than others. I know.

But I also know this. There has to be a line somewhere. I’ve chosen the line drawn by the medical industry, and I’ve chosen it simply because I know that my doctor can no longer call me obese according to her own standards. Since I really am trying to lose weight for my health (more on this later), this seems like a logical place to start, and as good as any other.

And now that that spiel is done… I am so happy I could cry because I weigh 191 lbs omg!!!1! Ok. </fangirl flashback>

So, about my health…

I realized the other night that as much as I am concerned that I look good by the end of this (who would want to lose 71-81 lbs and still look flabby, after all?), I really am doing this for my health. I know, I know: I’ve been saying that the whole time. But you know, I didn’t realize until recently that it was actually true.

I mean, think about it. In September of 2006 I got engaged. Around that time I probably weighed somewhere in the mid-190s (more than I do now, ha!) and was uncomfortable with my body image. But was I uncomfortable enough to lose weight, even considering the knowledge that I would be appearing in a wedding gown nine months later in front of all my friends and family, and considering that I would keep pictures of myself from that day for the rest of my happily-ever-after life? 

Nope, not. In fact, I gained weight between getting engaged and getting married. I gained weight between buying my dress and getting married. It was pretty difficult for the bridesmaids to zip me into that thing (a 16w, and that’s before I gained the 25 lbs that put me at 230 on April 7th of this year), let me tell you. Body image has never been a good enough motivating factor for me, people. I just didn’t have enough willpower to not eat what I wanted just because I thought I might look better. Who’d care if I looked better anyway, right?

And then this year I got scared. This year the doctor tested me for diabetes and a thyroid problem. This year I realized that if I didn’t make the change voluntarily, I’d have to make it to save my own life later on down the road. It was a week after that – not a week after getting engaged or buying a dress or even getting married – that I got serious and went on SBD.

I guess the point of all that was just to pat myself on the back for not letting vanity be my motivator. Of course, it’s not like my health couldn’t have motivated me a little earlier… But that’s beside the point.

Anyway, I know this post has gotten a bit long, but last but not least on the topics of conversation today: the blog makeover! Yes, the blog got a makeover because I know one is due for me fairly soon; if I look different, why not the blog? This week I’ve started having to toss out some pants and shirts that I’ve worn for the last time; they’re simply so big on me now that they either won’t stay up or make me look bigger than I am (never a good thing). I still have some of my smaller clothes that I’m getting back into, but these have definitely seen their last. And pretty soon… I will have to buy some new stuff.

It doesn’t seem that long. And in actuality, it really isn’t that long – just a little over three months. But when you count those days individually? One hundred days full of one hundred choices each, with one hundred opportunities to fail or quit in every day… That’s a lot of days.

Every day is a struggle and a battle all its own. I say that now 34.5 lbs lighter than I was on April 15th (weighed in at 192 lbs this morning) because it is still true. Yes, I have gotten in the habit of eating breakfast every morning. Yes, I have gotten in the habit of replacing starches with vegetables. But that doesn’t mean that I never feel like ordering a pizza when I’m tired after work, or that I don’t want to cave and eat some of the candy my boss keeps stashed for us in the office.

And I have done those things – the pizza and the candy and several other transgressions. But I’ve done them minimally. I couldn’t tell you my pass/fail percentage for choices like that, but I would probably give myself a B or a B+ overall in the area of self-control; I didn’t exceed expectations, but I’ve probably done above average.

The thing I think I’ve learned about self-control is that it is just what it says it is. Self-control doesn’t mean self-denial. It means you being in control of your actions and your decisions. It means that the food is not in charge of what I eat; I am in charge of what I eat. So on Saturday night, when Hubbo and I go out on our date to this French restaurant and I “cheat,” I don’t consider that a failure. I’ve made the decision that a nice evening out with my husband is ok every now and then. Only you, yourself, can make those decisions; only you can decide how much you can break the rules without your goals collapsing on you. That’s why it’s called self-control, after all.

Anyway, enough of that serious mumbo-jumbo. I know you all prefer picture-books anyway.

This is what I had for breakfast this morning. You know what? I got full! After I had my eggs and toast, I only made it through half my yogurt. Part of me is proud of this: I no longer eat and long for inordinate amounts of food! There is still a part of me that gets sad when I can’t finish, though; it tastes soooo good, after all. But I am taming that part, and I don’t listen to it anymore when it tells me to keep eating. 

Now that’s what I call a major victory.