“Ida was, is, and will always be… THAT BITCH.”
— KD Williamson
That, dear friends, is my story and I am sticking to it.
Well…some of it anyway.
The last time we talked or rather the last time I posted, I was waxing poetic about being at the lowest weight I’d been in years. I hate to say it but I’m living proof that situations can change at the drop of a hat. There I was eating my salmon, my salads, my veggies and whole grains. But I wasn’t hiding from my sweet tooth not by any means. When I wanted a cookie, I had a cookie. When I wanted cheesecake, I had cheesecake. When I wanted chocolate chip pancakes, I had them too.
Thanks to Noom, I’d figured out that the only way to tame the beast and/or take LUTHER down was to feed it not gorge it. I worked out 3-4 days a week and on the other days I made sure I got my steps in. Then, Ida rolled into the Gulf of Mexico and stepped her foot all into Terrebonne Parish’s ass…Lafourche too.
My wife and I are Katrina survivors and when we heard a Cat 4 hurricane was coming our way and we were on the destructive side, it was obvious we had to evacuate. While it was an obvious answer, it was a hard decision to make. Last time we evacuated we didn’t return for years. So, instead of leaving the state we settled on Metairie Louisiana which is only a stone’s throw away. Even there we got up to 100mph winds.
It was scary as hell. So, I ate.
The power went out and the heat was unbearable. So I ate.
We ended up staying in an Extended Stay hotel in Memphis for a week to get air. But it was 5 pets and two anxiety ridden adults in one big room. So, I ate. Fried Chicken. Pizza and junk food. None of it in moderation.
We had to wait more than a week to come back to our house and all we could do was hope it was still standing. So, I ate.
As I drove into Houma and got hit in the face with the trail of destruction, all I could think about was eating. When I got to my house and saw it was still there, relief made me full.
But, when we entered our house to see all the work that needed to be done, I was hungry again. So…yeah, you guessed it. I ate.
Since then, I had been reluctant to weigh myself or use my food diary. I didn’t want to know how many calories I was consuming even though a little voice in the back of my mind screamed at me. The sound was puny, but I could still hear it as clear as day, “What are you doing?”
As the days went by, it got louder and I couldn’t ignore it anymore. Two and a half weeks ago, I got back on the scale. When I saw the number, I literally gasped out loud because 259 pounds had become 270.
I got a little depressed but more than anything I was pissed at myself. I wanted to blame stress. I wanted to blame Ida. They played a part no doubt but I am still the majority. One of the things that helped me from falling into a deep depression was the fact that people fell off the proverbial wagon everyday. This time I was one of them, and I know it won’t be the last time. This isn’t my first weight loss journey but it has been the longest one I’d been on and the most successful.
Years ago, I lost 80 lbs, but whoever was pulling the wagon must have been going at breakneck pace because my ass fell off hard. I didn’t get on it again until a couple years ago. Now, I’m back to my food diary and since it’s the season, chocolate chip pancakes have become pumpkin which is delicious in cheesecake as well.
Did you know there was a sugar free pumpkin spice creamer? Pumpkin spiced English muffins! And OMG… Smoothie King has pumpkin smoothies! My wife thinks I’m obsessed and she is so very wrong.
Anyway, I won’t deprive myself. That’s not the way. It’s not sustainable. I’ll listen to that voice and I’ll try my best to pull my own wagon. So far, I’m doing pretty good. I’m back down to 261.
Luther will be eradicated. It will be dammit!
I think I may get that printed on a t-shirt for motivation purposes.
P.S. Feel free to tell my your stories of wagon falling and climbing in the comments.