Getting to goal, one choice at a time …
And no, even though I love the Tom Petty song, I don’t mean it in a good way.
Starting with last Friday, it’s been one of those weeks. I was all set to order a salad at my lunch meeting, but when my paycheck didn’t show up at the bank when it was supposed to (due to a server problem on the bank’s end), I got a burger and sweet potato fries instead.
Then, instead of picking myself up and getting right back on track, I kept on making terrible choices … all weekend. (There were delicious treats to eat at my plot group meeting and then my sleep schedule got whacked out and I slept most of Sunday away, sleeping right through breakfast and lunch. Then I had a salad and Lean Cuisine for dinner, but the sodium content was through the roof.)
When I got on my home scale Monday, I wasn’t surprised: It said I was up.
So I decided to skip my WW meeting — and the not-smart choices have continued. All week long. Ugh. Shame on me.
I know better than this. I want to get to my goal weight. I want to be healthy (and happier). I want to be able to post a picture of my tracker and say “this is my last Day 1,” The way Roni did in her “Wordless Wednesday” post.
I think the real problem is that I’ve been falling back into that trap of thinking in absolutes. I’m either absolutely OP and doing great or I go off the deep end.
Yes, I know that’s not the way to make a permanent lifestyle change. I know successful losers think in terms of one meal — one choice — at a time. I know a weekend of bad choices won’t make me regain a huge amount of weight.
But if I keep letting things snowball, the scale will continue to creep in the wrong direction.
I need to get back to where I want to be, and to do that, I need to start small. I can only get to goal one step — one choice — at a time.
My first choice, starting Friday, will be to get back to basics: Journaling every bite. I’m sure I’ll find, like I always do, that I’m guilty of catastrophic thinking. I make things a lot worse than they actually are. When I think I’ve eaten something absolutely horrible, it usually turns out to have a lot fewer Points than I thought.