So I had a good week, Monday-Friday. Back in my routine, exercising almost daily, and downloaded some new workout songs (my current favorite? “Domino” by Jessie J). Reasonable points, very little eating out. Bought 3 pairs of size 12 Fall pants/jeans and they fit – score! (Without cutting off essential functions like breathing or digestion – double score!) My home scale had me down at least 1.5 lbs for the week, which boded well for Monday, although that new middle digit “6” continued to elude me.
Then, BAM, Saturday hit, and I had a cold and a headache & felt blah. Downed some Motrin and Lemsip, soldiered on, & went to bed early. Sunday morning weigh in? Up 1.5 lbs. Gah. Sunday came, more of the same, and now my daughter has the same cold. More meds, interrupted sleep. Monday morning weigh in? Up ANOTHER 1.5 lbs. ARRGGHH!!
Kept my daughter home from preschool today, and decided that I was not going to drag both our sorry, overtired, sniffly bodies to Weight Watchers, only to register at least a 1.5 lb gain from last week that does not accurately reflect my food consumption or exercise. I refuse to have WW rule my life to the extent that I won’t take medication when I’m sick. That’s just all kinds of messed up. But I also don’t need the pitying look from the receptionist or my leader asking me what went wrong.
Somebody wise once told me, “Our bodies don’t know what day our weigh-in is.” It can seem dreadfully unfair to work hard all week and not have that effort reflected in the number on the scale, due to a factor like medication that is out of our control. Now I need to focus on not eating my feelings of boredom & frustration, since that would only serve to make the gain real! I know that if I just stick to the plan, it’ll be gone as quickly as it came and I’ll have a great two-week weigh in next week.