The ridiculous winter here in New England has messed with my weight-loss endeavors mightily since the New Year. It's delayed several gym mornings (putting me about 1 week behind on C25K) and one weigh-in due to commuter storms, bad roads, etc.
Last week, my weigh-in was delayed by a day and, dammit, that was not going to happen again. I work hard all week for those 30 seconds on the scale and I want to know how I did. I woke up and, as predicted, it was snowing. My husband decided to work from home and although it was snowing, I called the WW 800 number to see if my meeting was on. After waiting 10 minutes to get an agent (seriously, WW, you need more agents or post the cancellations online...), I was told the meeting was on.
It was snowing, but I was going.
I got in my trusty, superlight weigh-in clothes and slowly took off. The conditions on my small cul-de-sac were bad, but then again they always are until much later. I got on our main cross street. Roads not good. About a mile down the road I think, "Maybe I should turn back." But, stubbornly, I wanted my numbers right now and waiting one more day was out of the question. Maybe I would screw up! Maybe I would jinx myself! And, given the storm was supposed to last until the following day, it meant delaying weigh-in by 2 days.
The main Route to the meeting was terrible. Again, I think, "Turn back." But I don't.
A trip that takes about 20 minutes took about 35. I pull in, head into the center and Donna The Wonderful Receptionist says, "I can't believe you're here." Even our leader called in, but the center was open for weigh-in.
I unbundle. I step on the scale. I hear Donna clicking. I don't hear her traditional, "Good!" I hear nothing. Then, I hear, "You're up .4."
I stubbornly drove through a snowstorm for a gain. A gain! My first gain since rejoining. What a kick in the gut. Then, insult to injury, I have to drive home in a snowstorm, which was getting worse. On the way home I was full of coulda-woulda-shouldas. I had a good OP week. I had two parties I attended over the weekend, and I made the best choices I could. I didn't regret any food choices I made over the week and made all my workouts.
I was left with a nagging feeling that I failed. Something "went wrong." Somehow, I screwed up. But, how? But, after time I realized I didn't screw up at all. I had two weeks of very large, consecutive losses. No doubt, this was just my body adjusting, taking a pause, before it started downward again.
Weeks with a gain, especially an unearned one, are terrible. All that hard work, for nothing!
But it wasn't all for naught. There were good choices in tough food situations. Great workouts and numerous excellent decisions day after day. It gets so easy to get super-focused on the scale. But the scale is just the end game. It's everything that leads to it that is the real victory.
So, onward and downward.