Refocus...

My stomach tightens, clinched in anxiety... the scale.... It's been over a week since I started dabbling in clean foods, five days of doing it purely.  I had gained almost 8 from Easter Sunday... (said a few cry outs to God and His Son on Monday morning when I got on the scale for weigh-in).  Drum roll....  and I've lost nothing.  Staggering at 180, I am down 26 pounds from my peak in pregnancy but up 7 since delivery.  Depression sets in...  Wait for it... Now, anger...  So is my life as a chubby girl.

I am a woman of immediate results.  I hear you saying, "but Kerrie it's only been 4 days and 4 nights".  I have head voices screaming, "FOUR ETERNITIES WITHOUT BREAD AND DIET SODA!!!!!!!"  I need results, God.  I like most women define myself as a Christ-follower but then by my appearance.  I won't deny that when my jeans fit well I beam with confidence.  So after depriving myself of all my favorite snackies, I was hoping for just 1 pound, maybe 2 of loss.  I needed a crumb of encouragement.  A little morsel that all this is worth it.  Can one lose weight in four days by eating right and walking for an hour a day?  I would like to think so, but here I am having to accept that it took "9 months to gain it and it will probably take 9 months to lose it". 

See my goal was to lose it by my birthday, June 23rd, because usually I go to the outlet mall and get my yearly or semi-annual crazy shopping day.  It's where all my saved up budget money goes to a mound of goodies.  I only allow myself to go in June and December, but when I do, it's like Christmas morning for a five year old.  I take anything I want back to the dressing room and model like a Diva for a Day.  And NOTHING is worse than getting into one of those tiny rooms with a rack of a-size-too-small pairs of pants.  Talk about a buzz kill...  There I stand with those horrid full length mirrors in my granny panties praying for perfection.  "Wah wah wah" the comedic sound effect cues when I get half way up my thighs only to realize that size that fit last year is a far cry from fitting this year.  I have only allowed it to happen once.  I didn't buy pants that year and I immediately went on the South Beach Diet.  I lost 15 pounds and returned six months later in a victory purchase round.

So when I gave up bread, pasta, and all that jazz this round, I wanted to feel that same glee that I get each morning to step on the scale and watch it return to normalcy.  Alas, this is reality.  I could get on tomorrow and a few glasses of water will totally change my weight.  Maybe tomorrow I will blast off 5 at one time... (I have truly wishful and magical thinking sometimes).  See, I know it's not about a number, but it is to me.  A number to me symbolizes progress.  A number to me symbolizes control.  I feel in control of myself when I can lose the weight I "uncontrollably" gained.  It feels like getting an A on a 20 page paper, running a marathon, or making the best meal for a group of people and having them all "ooh and ahh". 

How then, in yet another season of patience, do I continue to motivate myself to "climb that mountain yet again"?  This blog is a true testimony to my lack of patience, the pay off when I have to wait, and the joy I experience from learning over and over and over and over and over again that it is worth it.  Calling that delayed gratification issue a design flaw from God.  Design flaw #4 after poor eye sight, large thighs, and quick temper. 

Ok.. breather moment.  Re-group, Kerrie...  One minute, one hour, one day at time.  Make the right choices and eventually you will get there.  The sun will rise on your hard work and on your journey.  Another mountain to climb, another day, and another sunrise.  You have to keep climbing or you lose the ability to find joy in life.  You have to push yourself, or you'll end up complacent.  Nothing is better than feeling that sense of accomplishment.  You know how wonderful you feel when you are your BEST YOU!   And as mom always says,  "nothing feels right when your pants are too tight".  Well, all of my pants (minus the maternity ones and sweats) are too tight.  I have to keep fighting for me.  Please God give me the strength....