"Good work, me!" I said, "You bounced back from your bad week and you're headed in the right direction again. Well done."
And what magnificent thing did I do to get back on track? Nothin' special. I went on a couple of walks. I was more careful about my calorie deficit. I played A LOT of video games and slept in and sat on my butt for long hours. The week was remarkable only in that it wasn't remarkable at all. And yet, there was the number I was looking for. Back in the game. In it to win it.
I thought to myself, "Self! This is almost too easy! Even when you 'misbehave', all you have to do to get caught up is increase your activity level by a tiny bit? How much did you walk total for the week? 20 blocks, maybe? 3-ish miles? That's almost nothing. Now, it was outside in the heat and involved some small hills, but give me a break! Imagine if you really got to work on a treadmill! Imagine if you *gasp* ran." I started getting all excited because I knew that the next week I'd be at the gym a lot. My friend had spoken with a trainer who was all set to give me four really intense training sessions, and if I could recover from a stumble based on nothing more than what I had already been doing, this trainer was going to put me way ahead of the game. Just in time for me to go back on the road for a few weeks and not collapse into a steaming heap of fail.
So, this week started. I got up, bleary eyed and grumpy and headed to the gym to meet the miracle worker who was going to help me lose an unachievable number of pounds in just four sessions. "This is going to suck," I thought, "but will be SO WORTH IT come Friday when I weigh in."
I never did meet with the trainer, but I did go to the gym 4 days in a row (which might be a record for me). 2 spin classes. A yoga class with some treadmill time beforehand. And today a strength training class. Mostly arms and shoulders, which was good. Even focusing on arms and shoulders we somehow did 9 billion squats. I'm not sure my knee would have made it through a leg day. Yikes!
And I've been carefully keeping my calorie deficit a genuine deficit. I have been eating more calories than previous weeks, but still well below the extra that I "earned" from my miles and miles of spinning classes. (If you ever want to watch me sweat like I've been running through sprinklers, you should watch me in a spinning class.) All systems go. Everything on track. Practically looking forward to my weigh in this morning because I'd been so good. "Good" by my standards, anyway. And compared to the last few weeks? Fah ged aboud it. Those weeks don't even count compared to this week.
So, class is over. Nearest scale is here at the gym. Get it done.
Um...excuse me? That's not funny, scale. Now I know I'm wearing shoes, but these shoes weigh 1/2 a pound, if that. So, what are you trying to pull here, huh? I was expecting you to land somewhere in the 235 range. I mean, I wasn't expecting miracles or anything, but I was certainly expecting a decline. What is this shit?
Needless to say, I'm disappointed. No, not disappointed. Disappointed would mean I had failed. It would mean that I could clearly see the mistakes I made and would be able to correct them. What I'm feeling is discouraged. My poor little brain is running a thousand miles an hour trying to figure out where I went wrong when everything looked so right. I guess I didn't drink enough water? Could falling short on my water intake account for weight gain? Maybe. What do I know? I haven't been getting a full 8 hours of sleep a night. I hear that's important. The gym classes were in the morning and I tend to stay up late. But I've still been getting 6 - 7 hours, if not more. That should be plenty for an adult. It's not like I'm a growing teen that needs buckets of sleep to function. I'm probably going to start my period in a few days. Could that be it? I've never noticed that I gain weight before I start my period, but maybe and I just never noticed? I guess?
Too many questions. Not enough answers. The problem with experimenting on myself is that I'm not a good control group. Maybe it was the protein shake that did me in. Maybe the scale wasn't calibrated properly. Maybe I've hit one of those terrifying "plateaus" everyone keeps telling me about. I truly don't have any idea, and that is frustrating. Obvious mistakes are easy to correct. (Well, at least easy to identify. Discipline ain't easy, kids.) But when you truly don't have any idea, it's hard to know how to adjust for the next week.
Oh well. So much for my power week. Guess I'll go back to video games and walks.