I came to a revelation today. I weigh daily and, for the past eight days or so, I've had a nasty half pound just taunting me, up, down, up, down... Today is my *official* weigh-in and the result was a net loss of a mere quarter pound since last Friday.
Since I stayed mostly on my program, I was disappointed. TOM and a bit more soduim over the past couple of days are probably the culprits, but still, it was disappointing.
My mini-goal was to have lost 15 pounds by next Wednesday, March 8. I think it's fairly safe to say I'm not going to make it, since it's still nearly 3 pounds away.
And that's when it hit me.
It's not the goal that's the problem, it's the deadline!
There are a lot of things in weight management I can control. I can control what goes in my mouth. I can control how much I move and with what intensity. But I can't control at what rate my body decides to release the pounds. I can wish. I can hope. But I can't actually
control it (unless I take a knife and start slicing parts off, but that would hurt way more than my current program
).
Anyway, I noticed that instead of celebrating the fact that I've already lost nearly 13 pounds (
), instead of congratulating myself for working diligently on my program of eating and moving (
), instead of being proud of myself for adopting a totally new attitude (
) and finding this absolutely marvelous 3FC community (thanks, everyone, you're all aces!
), I was upset with myself because I've probably blown any chance of meeting some silly deadline. It's self-imposed stress and totally not worth it.
That's just not right.
So, from here on, I'll set goals and work diligently to hit them. When I hit them (and I
will hit them, I know I will), I will celebrate that victory,
whenever it occurs.
How liberating!!!!
(now I need to go update my little ticker
)