So, since I started my new job and am not on the road 24/7, I’ve made it my personal goal to get healthier and lose some weight. I’ve tried every diet known to man (and have failed at every. single. one. of. them.). So this time I decided no diets, just changing my eating habits and not depriving myself…just eating in moderation.
And exercise. Lots of exercise. I never thought I’d be one of those people that busts out of work to hit the gym. I used to make fun of those people. “Ha,” I’d think, “You fools–you’re are off to sweat and be miserable at the gym and I’m on my way to dinner with my friends where I will demolish chicken and pasta with a goatcheese sauce and dried cranberry, several gin and tonics and a huge piece of chocolate cake” (quite possibly my favorite meal EVER–cheese, booze and chocolate. all the things that make the world go round). Unfortunately this mode of thinking caught up with me…so now I am one of those people. And I’m finding I really LIKE working out after work. Especially since moving back to Cleveland, I’ve found myself ACHING for some “me time”…and my daily battle with the elliptical provides me that. Since I’m ridiculously competitive like every other member of my family (seriously, who else gets angry and all gloaty during a friendly game of Trivial Pursuit? The D-Squad, that’s who), I have competitions with myself. Like…can I go for 46 minutes instead of 45…or can I push a little harder until “Bye Bye Bye” is over. While this is all well and good…sometimes I feel like my arms and legs are going to fall off.
Since I started watching and working out, I decided the best way to keep tabs on myself is to start going to weight watchers. now, I ADORE weight watchers. I think they have a great program and you can actually EAT and enjoy food (and I do love food).
This is what happened at my meeting.
I go to step on the scale, confident I’ve lost weight. My clothes are fitting looser and my torso is becoming more defined. I smile at the small angry woman with a bad perm and sort of feel sorry for her. I’d be angry too if my hair looked like. I hand her all of my papers and step on the scale. She scans it and looks at me and says, “Hmm, down a little” (meaning half a pound). Now, it wasn’t just in what she said but THE WAY SHE SAID IT. It was like she was judging me and didn’t believe I was sticking with the program. So now, not only am I pissed because I kill myself every day at the gym and have all but given up booze and chocolate (which is a harship, believe me) all to lose HALF A POUND. Trust me lady, you don’t need to make me feel bad, I already do.
I wish I would have yelled at the woman like I wanted…some sort of variation of “Don’t give me that look lady…I’ve busted my ass every day at the gym for the past week, wanting to kill mr. elliptical and whoever thought crunches would be a good idea. So please don’t sit there and make ME feel bad about myself…especially when I’m not the one with the hair starring ever bad perm come to life,” Fortunately I had the foresight to keep my mouth shut. I like the meeting and I love the leader, Jen. While it would have been sweeeeeet to tell her what I thought, I’m glad I just glared at her, grabbed my bag and sat down for the rest of the meeting.
Afterwards I met my best friend for lunch (where I definitely consumed a million calories of chicken, spinich dip and cheese) and pedicures. Definitely what I needed. So while my run this morning was definitely canceled out by my calorie-fest, it was definitely worth it.