Weighing in. No help from the Rabbit.

"Coffee, tea, water, gum.  Coffee, tea, water, gum."

I rode the Superfly over three hours on Tuesday.  And hit my planned calorie range dead center. 

So, what happened when I stepped on the scale the next morning? 

I gained a pound.  That's what. 

That is how it happened that the words "Rabbit, Rabbit" weren't the first words out of my mouth on May 1st.  No wishes-come-true for me this month.

This lose-a-few undertaking is most frustrating. 

So complex. 

And yet so simple.

Back on March 1st, I decided to give myself ninety days.  Make super-good food choices.  Limit amounts, but not too limited.  Address any emotional issues.  Exercise.  See what happens. 

That's really all there is to it.  Right? 

Right.

Really.  That's all there is to it.  No magic wishes required.

In theory, anyway. 

But trust me, if I had a wish right now, I'd use it.  

I take a look through the new Kindle Fire.  Since Christmas day,  I have read 6 books about losing weight.  There is 1 more, half finished, and 2 more in the queue, for a total of 9.   

"Finished being Fat"   Betsy Schow

"...Then Just Stay Fat"  Shannon Sorrels  (Some excellent tough love here!)

"Fat Chick"  Lorraine Duffy Merkl

"Suddenly Skinny"  Freya Taylor

"The Amazing Adventures of Dietgirl"  Shauna Reid

"Half-Assed, a weight loss memoir."  Jennette Fulda

"Lucy Wagner Gets in Shape."  Claire Matthews

"Toxic Fat"  Barry Sears, PhD

"A Week in the Zone"  Barry Sears, PhD


A little bit of science, and a whole lot of heartache and courage.

Suddenly, I plop the Kindle down on the table.  I hop up from the computer to go look in the refrigerator. 

I take out plastic containers of salad and leftover turkey from last night's dinner and set them on the counter. 

I look at my watch.  It is 9:43 in the morning. 

I put the leftovers back. 

With the refrigerator door safely closed again, I repeat to myself, 

"Coffee, tea, water, gum."

The leftovers can wait for a couple hours.  I put water on for tea and sit back down.

The battle was short and decisive. This time.

This sure is one stubborn behavior.  Every day, every single freakin' day, for sixty days now.  If I am near the refrigerator, I have to open it up and look.   

Sixty days.  Same behavior.  Harmless refrigerator gazing.

I guess it's harmless.  It's certainly a tad on the compulsive side to feel comfortable with it, though.

Mostly I just gaze, then shut the door and go back about my business.  Sometimes, like this morning, I go so far as to take something out.  And then I put it back. 

In the last sixty days, I have very rarely eaten anything as a result of these forays.  

I have no explanation for this behavior.  A need to be sure the food is still there?  Or more likely, seeking escape from household chores.  But an escape from the fun stuff too - like reading an email or writing a blog post?  Does that make sense? 

Nope.  It's just weird.

I reach for my adorable pink owl cup, take a sip of steaming Plantation Mint tea, and look back at the list of fat chick book titles.  Most were funny.  Amusing and heart wrenching at the same time.  A couple were actually helpful tough-love type pep talks.  One was oh so young and way candy coated.   One of them I don't even remember reading, but the setting was left on the end page, so I must have.  

Every single one of them glued me to a chair for a good chunk of time, though.  (Except when I was jumping up to pad into the kitchen, of course.)

OK, so for the last thirty days of this endeavour, the diet books are going the way of desserts.  On hiatus.

I'm back on my own here.  No amusing anecdotes.  No magic wishes.  Just me. 

Me.  And some coffee, tea, water, or gum.


PS   I also thought this article from Outside magazine was pretty ground breaking:
 http://www.outsideonline.com/fitness/Your-Fat-Has-a-Brain.html