I wish that I could blame it on the Super Bowl. I wish that a sudden addiction to high calorie chocolate, potato chips or other 'unmentionables' came into play. I wish I could reference that nightmare known as water retention. Unfortunately, none of it would be true.
For the past few weeks, I have experienced a steady decline in my weight. A pound or two a week, which is average. Until this week, that is. This week, I gained a pound.
I'll be the first to admit that, for a minute, I was rather emotional about it. Dramatic, even. I'll be fat forever! I thought. Then I remembered something really important: It's just a frigging pound.
I have been on a diet - off and on - since I was ten years old. I have always been the Sturdy One. The Solid One. The fat one. I have lived on tuna fish (mayo free), dry toast, skim milk. I have eaten food so foul and revolting that entire sections of the food pyramid have been removed from my life. You know, just in case.
I finally pulled the plug on that way of thinking last year. Now, one year later, I am over 20 pounds lighter than I have been in years. I look better - and I feel better. I would have never imagined this to be possible.
So, am I thrilled with this gain? No. I am also not devastated. I will regroup. I will reset. I will re-lose. Today is another day, and so is tomorrow. It will all work out as it should.
And you know what? It won't be eating any tuna fish. With or without mayo.