Not Even Close

fall-off-the-wagon

Well…where do I start. I think I mentioned didn’t I that I was anticipating the odd challenge towards the back end of last week, but I had a plan, right? I was working away Thursday and Friday, but I had it all figured out. The hotel I was staying in had a gym, blah blah blah…sadly I was accompanied on my trip by the fuck-up fairy, and it’s safe to say things didn’t go according to plan. Not even close.

But let me rewind. The week was going great, right up until Thursday morning when I left for my two-day trip. I’d completed all my planned sessions in the Kingdom of Pain, and I’d walked pretty much every day…I was on track food wise, in fact it was shaping up to be another textbook week.

The two-day meeting was a big conference-type get-together for a sixty strong team that I support and there were a few things which I knew straight off the bat I was going to struggle with. For example, there was an outdoor hog roast planned for dinner on the Thursday evening, and no word of a lie, I’d dreamed more than once in the early part of the week about that crispy salty pork crackling, and how many kinds of awesome it was going to be.

I knew how much I’d struggle to say no. I thought about how many different ways I could avoid even being within sniffing distance and I couldn’t quite figure it out so I set off knowing it was going to test me. What I hadn’t anticipated was all the other stuff.

I got to the hotel well before nine on the first morning after a couple of hours in the car, to be greeted by a massive tray of hot bacon sandwiches in the coffee area. I went through the motions of saying no, before driving myself bat shit crazy for ten minutes walking around the room chatting to colleagues, all the time furiously calculating and re-calculating the effect a bacon sandwich might have on my daily food budget. I came to the conclusion that it would make a big hole in it, as I caved in and helped myself to a plate. I estimated about twelve points out of my thirty five point daily budget. Ouch.

As soon as I walked into the conference room, my Asshole voice started doing his happy dance. There were goodies on every table…dishes of bite-size chocolate bars, chocolate-covered raisins and even bags of candy-floss to support the seaside theme. Whichever seat I’d taken I would’ve been within touching distance of all things naughty. So, did I sit and ignore it all because I’d just eaten a third of my daily food budget and I shouldn’t be even thinking about chocolate..? No, of course I fucking didn’t. I dived right in.

I started off with the intention of counting the points for everything I ate. I made a deal with the fuck-up fairy, brokered of course by the Asshole voice which meant I could take my foot off a little and have a few treats on the basis that I had some exercise points I could dip into, you know? I even wrote down what I ate so I could tot it up later on. Shall I share the list..? One toffee. Then two malteser chocolates, closely followed by two mini galaxy caramels. Then one more of those, one mini mars bar and a handful of chocolate raisins followed by seven mint humbugs.

At the first coffee break there were giant cookies on offer so of course I had one of those, followed by three mini bounties and a jaffa cake. I’d already run out of my food budget by this point although for some bizarre reason I carried on writing things down. Lunch was a buffet and trust me when I say…well, I don’t need to say it do I..? I was out of control. The hog roast didn’t live up to expectations but to be fair I felt so sick by the time  evening came, even if it had I wouldn’t have enjoyed it. But I ate it anyway. Followed by a dirty great piece of chocolate fudge cake.

I laid in bed on Thursday evening and felt like shit. I’d taken my iPad so I could write Friday’s blog post but you know what, I simply couldn’t summon any words…I was transported right back to those dark dark days of binge/food coma/self-loathing/guilt/remorse and repeat. I’d almost forgotten what it was like but hell’s teeth that was a sharp reminder.

I’d love to say that Friday was better, but it wasn’t. I wasn’t as bad but I was way off track. I ate things I shouldn’t, and I didn’t even write them down. I got home and finished the day off by eating chow mein and prawn toast from the Chinese takeaway. I mean, I’d already blown it, right?

Saturday…Saturday was better. But not brilliant. I still made some dodgy food choices but I exercised. I walked with some friends and it felt good. The Asshole voice was busy screaming start again Monday of course but actually, my weigh day is Sunday. So I picked myself up and started again Sunday.

I’ve written the last three days of my last dieting week off, and the bitch served up a three pound gain with a smile yesterday morning. I could weep, but I did it to myself, and I take responsibility for it. I deserve those three pounds.

So I’m a bit shaken if I’m honest, about how quickly I descended into anarchy. I thought I’d cracked it but clearly not. And it remains as ever incredibly hard to climb back on the wagon when I’ve taken a tumble and gone under the wheels…this morning I feel stronger, with a very good day under my belt yesterday…today it almost feels like the binge never happened. With a headwind behind me and the Gods of Skinny on my side I’ve somehow managed to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat and I’m back on track.

This week, I’m not going to step a toe out of line. I’ve got three pounds to lose, right?

 

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18 thoughts on “Not Even Close

  1. Ok, friend, so you blew it. Yep, you did. But guess what, it’s okay because you didn’t give up. We all have bad days or bad weekends and eat out of control from time to time. You are right from today’s post that our relationship with food is just not like other people’s. We can’t “just have one” piece of cake or “one” cookie or “one” candy. There is something inside us that says, “Oh my god, this is soooo good, I want another, no I need another.” But here’s my concern, “I was transported right back to those dark dark days of binge/food coma/self-loathing/guilt/remorse and repeat. ”
    You and I both have to learn to stop the self-loathing, guilt and remorse piece of this transaction. We have to learn to forgive ourselves and put the whole thing into perspective. You can’t beat yourself up because the guilt trip and self-loathing does nothing to help you move forward. Nothing at all. So, hang in there, friend!

  2. p.s. re.: the 3 lb., it might be gone by Tuesday, I thought you might say the Bitch didn’t even get wind of your weekend. It happens like that sometimes – the scale not even reflecting that anything went amiss. Go figure.

    Hah! Slipping in the door at 10am in a party dress….

    1. I know…what a rebel, eh! I hope you’re right…if it comes off again before next Sunday I’ll be utterly delighted!

  3. Hi, Darling Friend. Oh gosh I hate and fear that – anarchy is the word! Then you exercised with friends, reclaimed the right to decide that Sunday was the day to steady yourself. Fed yourself some dinner. Wrote to us. Looks to me like a woman in recovery.

    Fuck me, that wasn’t hospitality, that was an ambush!

    All I want is never to just fold, & watch months turn into years.

  4. Hey Dee – don’t beat yourself up it really is all part of the journey. It’s hard to say no all the time and sometimes we do have to say fuck it and accept the gain and move on. Now that you’ve weighed yourself you can move on.

  5. Dee’
    Stop beating yourself up. You had a bit of a fall off the wagon but all it means is that you are human. Big work time functions are the hardest to get through and I know that internal struggle very well. It happened but now it is over and when you are ready spend some time thinking about how you could have done things differently and then take those lessons with you to the next outing. You are still a superstar and your honesty is commendable.
    Keep on fighting, you are going to win this war!!

    1. Ah thanks Moira, I appreciate your faith in me. Thinking about you lot and having to ‘fess up really helped me get back on track without a doubt ?

  6. I doubt you ate a extra 10,500 calories which is what the math says you know 3500 for one pound. I bet a lot of the regain is water which will go away quickly.

    Across the last 19 years since I lost my original weight I have had a couple of major slips mostly while on vacation at home I don’t buy that kind of food. One time I came home 8 pounds higher after a week a way was I freaked out? You bet! Like you I got right back on my normal plan its been a few years I don’t remember how long before the weight went back down but it did. Forgive yourself for being human and move on doing the next right thing. We are rooting for you.

  7. Thank you!!!! This post really struck a chord; especially the part about anarchy and reverting back so quickly. Good luck this week!

  8. The sad thing is you probably didn’t even enjoy your indulgence very much, because of the guilt. It sounds like you’re back in your groove now, which is great. Maybe all those months of good habits really have made a difference in getting back in the sweet spot quickly!

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