Earlier this week I wrote about overeating, forgiving myself and moving on after an indulgent weekend. I accepted the fact that I once again set myself back, but I used my cognitive therapy skills to put a stop to the destructive behavior and guilt and reset. I thought I’d need a week of perfect eating to get back to where I was before the holiday weekend. Well, it appears my next step in this weight loss process needs to be changing my perception. That’s because the day after I forgave myself and gave my body a break, my weight was right back to where I was before the weekend. I was stunned.
Perception
It’s funny. My perception of a “fuck up” is still the same despite my eating habits and activity levels being so vastly improved over the past two years. For example, two weeks ago I worked out hard at the gym in the morning, ate a well-balanced breakfast and then a light lunch. But then I ate one and a half soft pretzels (this Philly delicacy tests me to my absolute limits). I justified eating them because I had such a great workout that morning.
But those damn pretzels sat heavy in my belly anyway and even heavier in my mind. I couldn’t see the pretzels for what they were: a snack of roughly 250 calories of carbs, water and salt. I saw them as another failure; the reason I can’t succeed; a stain on what was a decent day. I struggled to concentrate since I was full with regret. I had happy hour plans that night, which made things worse. I was supposed to eat “perfectly” so I could have some wine. I drank and had some bar snacks anyway. Although I wanted to eat when I got home, I’ve learned that desire and slight hunger does not demand eating. It was bed time. So I drank some water and went to sleep. I woke up expecting to weigh three hundred pounds heavier at least.
The scale was exactly the same as the day before.
See my point?
This is why I weigh myself nearly every day. Not because I’m obsessive, but because I find the reality of a situation is often not nearly as bad as my perception of one.
This past weekend I berated myself for overdoing it, and I did overdo it, just to be clear. I smoked, which is unacceptable. I drank three days in a row, had a giant bag of kettle corn, and ate until I was uncomfortable on Sunday. My perception of this was that I was an out of control screw up. I was so afraid to get on the scale so I gave myself a one day reprieve. When I did face the scale after that one reset day, I saw the exact same weight as before my indulgent weekend. The fog cleared and more specific details came to light…
Reality
I recalled that on Friday I ate a kale and beet salad before I went to the brewery, and that I only drank two beers there. I remembered how good I felt when I went to the ice cream shop and walked away with ice cream only for my dog, Cooper. I remembered how I declined Mike’s offer to grab me a slice of pizza after he caught me staring at someone’s.
Saturday I went to Philly. I drank many beers and went out for a late lunch. I recalled that although I splurged on nachos, I took half my quesadilla home because I could tell I was getting full, something I’ve only recently learned how to be cognizant of. Later, I went to town on kettle corn as I watched movies. But I didn’t have dinner and I walked 13,000 steps that day… not bad.
Sunday I filled up on the rest of my kettle corn too close to eating dinner, which is why I felt so uncomfortably full. The meal was perfectly reasonable in and of itself. And yeah, I drank, but I drank 4 oz. pours, not pints.
My point in sharing all these details is that my perception was way off. I wasn’t a gluttonous eating machine who should be chained up and kept away from children. The reality is I’ve come a really long way, can’t eat nearly as much as I used to, am far more active, and make exponentially better choices. This is the reality.
I don’t give myself enough credit for all I’ve learned and all the destructive habits I’ve broken. It’s time I start. There is room for improvement, yes. But I see now just how much improvement there has been.
