Operation Healthy: One Month In

Since July is long gone (well, four days gone..) that means that I've officially been on my healthy living plan now for four weeks; more than enough time to write in and share how things are going with it so far.

Let's start with the positives: in four weeks, I'm down  fourteen pounds. I'm pleased with that; despite only losing a measly 1-pound in the last week itself. It's a pretty consistent loss when you work out the average of around 3-pounds per week. I've become a lot more aware of my portion sizes; particularly with innocent meals like cereals and dinners - I was going completely overboard and not even realising, since that was "normal" for me. Now, I'm starting to find myself fuller for longer & I'm never really going without, which is important to me.

Another positive is that I'm being a lot more conscious of eating enough food. While I was busy spending May and June working out rigorously, I wasn't losing any weight. Looking back, I think it was because I was eating my meals all wrong, with big portions at set times each day and not many snacks in between. I'm now eating more - but smaller sizes and at random times throughout the day. I'm eating a lot more fruit, and finding good things to snack on that will keep me within my calorie "goal" (I hate the word "limit") each day. I downloaded an iPhone app called Lose It, and while it took a bit of time initially plugging in most of my regular meals, it's super easy to use now.

But of course, there are always downsides to a weight loss journey - if it was a quick and easy fix, I'd already be at my ideal weight and size. The most common gripe I have is about ME and how I carry my weight: because that fourteen pounds lost has not made the slightest bit of difference to my figure. Please don't think I'm complaining about how much I've lost because I know that fourteen pounds is great and I'm mighty pleased with myself, but honestly - where has it gone from? It's so hard not to be disheartened when you look in the mirror and see no progress, despite the numbers finally starting to budge on the scale. Progress is everything to me. I like to see results. I like to know that the effort I'm putting in is noticeable to others, but more importantly, to myself.

I'm a pretty critical judge.

Part of this intense need to really see results stems from my impatience; yet another thing I struggle with. I have a long way to go on this journey; let's face it, with the amount of weight I need to lose, fourteen pounds is a very small percentage of the whole picture. Mentally, I need to make sure I'm 100% focused on this as a long-term thing - I've learned from failed past attempts that it's all too easy for me to go from being a little wobbly with my commitment, to eventually toppling off the bandwagon in a spectacular fashion.

I had a moment this morning where I felt utterly dejected after reading that 1-pound loss; where I felt like this was ridiculous and that I was once again wasting my time and energy into something that just isn't going to happen for me. I just felt awful, like a big, fat lump. I sat down on the floor in my underwear and thought about raiding the cupboards to make the worst possible food I could come up with. I thought about the fact that I had eaten out twice this week for my birthday - naughty Thai food, apple pie with ice cream and wood fire pizza, and figured hey, that explains it you silly girl, get off the floor and start over.

But then I got angry. Really, really angry. So angry that I would have punched something, except that there was nothing here to punch. Why? Because I'm bitter. I'm jealous and I'm bitter. I ate two small meals this week that were what I would consider a splurge, and my weight loss stalled because of it: yet why are there people out there who can eat terribly every day, drink cans of coke every day, not work out at all - and can not gain a pound.

Why is this such a hard journey for me? What did I do to deserve always being large? WHY? It's not fair.

I'm over that now. I got up and I moved on, and I indulged in a small portion of cocoa & granola with milk for breakfast. But you know, deep down, I am still all of those things. I am sad. I am angry. I am bitter. I am jealous. And to be perfectly honest, I don't think that anyone can empathise unless they have been fat themselves. And I'm not talking a few pounds over their 'skinny' weight. I'm talking about people who are well over a healthy weight range, who have a lot of weight to lose, and who have probably (like me) been heavy their entire life. I don't know if these feelings will change as this journey progresses; I hope they do.

But to end on a positive and to summarise: four weeks down, fourteen pounds lost.

{Image from here}

I have this horrible fear that being vocal about my weight loss journey and having support from Jase is fantastic - but that I'm going to let everyone down if things stop working, or if my size doesn't change after all this. If there's one thing I can't bear the thought of, it's disappointing people.

So here's to the next four weeks, I hope you'll stick through this with me - no matter what the final outcome is.