Weight loss is all about changing habits. Most people rush straight to food and fitness and there’s nothing wrong with that but weight loss is more the just changing the way we eat and move. Weight loss has to include changing all habits which do not promote health and happiness with our bodies.
I have a habit I need to change. It’s an odd one for sure. It is the kind that might even go unrecognized because it is a good habit in disguise. Without the struggle this past year has been and without a fortuitous chain of events as the old year was slipping away and the new year would charging in I might not have really latched on to my need to change.
My good habit is creating goals but it becomes bad when I create goals for my body that are not in balance with my body.
At the end of the year I decided to keep the last goal I missed and give it a deadline of the morning I step on the cruise ship. It would mean to reach 236.6 I would need to lose 11 pounds in 7 weeks.
Let’s forget the cruise for a sec.
That number is emotionally charged all by itself. 236.6 was what I happened to weigh on the morning of my last day of full-time work. I was fired from my job that afternoon in large part because I became physically unable to keep up with the demands of the job. It was my weight when I finally realized the weight of fibromyalgia. Getting back there and taking that number back is a big deal to me. Huge. I can be honest about that.
Now, back to reality…
I am a woman who loves big goals and dreams. Ask anyone who knows me. I know that about myself and those around it know me for it. Honestly, it’s kinda one of my favorite things about me.
It does not, never has, and likely never will apply to my body and weight loss.
It bothers the ever-living hell out of me.
Yet, I keep setting those goals and pushing to accomplish them only to feel like I’m sitting on the sidelines watching my thyroid crap-out or a fibro flare to hit. The deadline whizzes by and I’m left sad, discouraged and angry. I pout for a while and then I pull up my big girl panties and try again.
For over 12 years!!!
There is one thing I know…
11 pounds in 7 weeks…not even if I starved myself!!!!
At best, it is an unattainable goal. At worst, it is a symptom of habitual self-destruction. Attaching yet another weight loss goal to another high point of my life sure sounds–and has felt–like self-destruction. I spend a lot of time soothing my wounded will as another deadline passes without me achieving my weight loss goal. I also miss out on celebrating the good, and even, great moments of my life because I’ve tagged successful weight loss to the event.
So I have to ask myself why would I want to attach all of this negative reality to leaving for Mexico?
I am stepping on the ship for the adventure of a lifetime. Whatever pounds I am carrying will be along for the ride. Is it really the end of the world if I don’t love the number on the scale that morning? It could be…if I am the one creating that drama for myself.
Uhh, that doesn’t sound like a loving or vacation-y thing to do to myself.
Time to deal with the truth.
My truth is my body is broken metabolically, auto-immune-ly, fibromyalgia-ly, B-R-O-K-E-N!
I am not entirely in control.
Now, if I really–and I mean REALLY–know that then why on Earth do I keep setting weight loss goals only to watch my body miss them. Apparently I’m into beating myself up.
While zillions of people are making weight loss resolutions, I resolve to avoid them.
Once I decided no more, I un-clicked my weight loss goals from Fitday.com.
Fitday.com is one of my favorite tools but sometimes it lies to me and tells me my goals are achievable. They are if I was a normal person. I am not so it lies and I eat it up.
By the math–for normal bodies–losing 11 pounds in 7 weeks is not impossible. It’s actually a respectable 1.5 pounds a week.
My normal average?
Oh I’m so glad you asked…one half pound.
On a good week I can muster a whole pound. On a bad week I’m thrilled to pieces to see 2/10ths (the increment my scale uses). Over time it works out to about one-half pound.
The sad thing is, for my body, this is an improvement. Before my Hashimoto’s Thyroiditis was diagnosed, I went years averaging only one-quarter pound a week.
For my body losing what is consider a normal 1-2 pounds a week is the equivalent of unicorn hunting–something to be chased, believing it could be true, but secretly knowing it isn’t.
And, honestly it’s kinda killin’ me. Unicorns are awesome. Weight loss goals that become unicorns…not so much.
I’m a goal setting, goal achieving freak and that part of me is twitching at the notion of not having a weight loss goal.
BTW, that is precisely how I know I have a problem.
The unsettled feelings in the pit of my stomach tell me I am not as loving to my body as I think I am.
If the anxiety wells simply because I un-click a goal, I’ve been in trouble for a long, long time.
This is the year that changes.
The fear I feel lets me know I am on to something huge.
With all goals defining accountability is the best way to determine success.
My accountability is now a weekly series of ‘kiss and cry’ posts where I resolve to be open, raw, and even downright mean with myself if necessary to disconnect goals and weight loss from my psyche once and for all.
Of course, I’ll be doing the right things to inspire my body to let go of the pounds.
Of course, there are going to be weeks my body just sits there and laughs.
Of course, I’ll even have times when I get totally fed up and disgusted with my body’s passion for making me feeling the journey is unicorn-like and use that as an excuse to fall off track.
It’s all normal even the unicorn-y part. For me…it’s normal for me.
Isn’t it about time I come to terms with what I know about my own body?
No goals. No unicorns. Accountability for actions.