Having doubts about this week

I've mentioned before how I had slipped into a habit of weighing myself every day, and truth be told, I do that rather frequently. Last week I was monitoring my weight changes as much as three times a day on three different scales (in the bathroom, on the Wii Fit, at the gym...). I've come to feel comfort when the end-of-day weight is low enough that I know the following morning will register a loss from the previous morning. I've experienced frustration when my weight doesn't drop from one day to the next, or worse, rises. This week I've decided to break myself of the habit, so I haven't seen my weight since Saturday's weigh-in.

Unfortunately, rather than finding this liberating, I've allowed myself not only to become doubtful, but to actually slip in my focus. I've had two slips this week. On Monday, after my final test (which, admittedly, I over-studied and lost too much sleep the night before) didn't go as well as I'd hoped, I went for take-out, which I haven't done in months, and got hot wings and french fries. I am ashamed to say that I ate all the fries and managed to munch on 4 wings before I realized what a huge mistake I had made. I tossed the remaining 6 wings in the trash, but the damage was done. I also skipped the gym that day, opting to relax and protect myself from the frigid cold and wallow in my post-wing shame.

Yesterday should have been a better day after such a slip, but I didn't bring enough in my lunch bag and wound up getting a doughnut at the QuickTrip while I was getting gas. I tried to make excuses that the roads were too bad for me to be driving to the gym, so I skipped again. I got home and started heating up leftover chili, but convinced myself it wasn't enough and made a quesadilla as well. I've now had two days in a row where I was too embarassed of my choices and didn't track my eating.

The only good thing is that while we were watching the finale of The Biggest Loser, I found a touch of inspiration. Once the show had ended, I warmed up the car, grabbed my bag, and drove to the gym. It was very quiet there as I've never been at such a late hour. I didn't want to stay out too terribly late, so I didn't even get in my full hour workout, cutting short 20 minutes, but at least I worked out.

I'm back on the wagon and determined to make this a good week in the end. I'll be happy if I don't register a gain, but it would be nice to hit the 65 pound mark at least. That one was only .4 away last time. I guess all I can do is stick with it and hope for the best.

At least through all this self-doubt, I've still managed to keep my ass off the scales.