I think my ridiculous dream prompted more thinking than was warranted, but I’ve come to a few conclusions.

1) I’m going to cut myself some slack twice a week re: restaurants/”cheat” meals. I won’t beat myself up and I won’t worry about whether I’m cheating the eat -> guilt cycle – I’ll just accept that this is it. Twice a week. I kind of feel like this is the same kind of BS I might hear from (completely hypothetical) clients who have multiple DUI’s and no job and no home who want to drink socially – just one or two beers a week, you know. (Watch this rationalization.) The difference? My falling off the wagon won’t kill anyone or otherwise impact anything but my weight (and potentially my sanity).

I think this is realistic, though. I think I’d be setting myself up for failure if I took a complete all-or-nothing approach. There has to be a way to balance the whole situation to eliminate the eat -> guilt cycle and to accept some indulgences as ok. I think I’ve been vacillating between hard-core abstention and blissful acceptance, so I’m hopeful that going back to realistic limitations will be helpful.

2) I’m going to try to limit dairy products to once a day. What this likely means is I’ll eliminate cheese and continue eating yogurt. And maybe completely abstain from ice cream. I know it’s a trigger.

3) I’m not going to count calories. The thought causes complete and utter DREAD, so I don’t think it’s the right thing to do at this point.

So, twice a week (limited, not free-for-all) junk, limited dairy, and no stress/worry about counting anything. We’ll see how it goes. I’m not so good with weight loss goals and plans and I know that. I’ve had MUCH more success taking things day-to-day and rolling with whatever I feel like doing on any given day, but this situation is different. I’ve been stuck at the same weight FOREVER. I think I need to try a little harder and work a little more at fighting my rebellion against weight loss goals and plans. Or quit bitching and accept this weight.

Something has to change.

Who effin’ knew this whole weight loss thing would require more than some exercise and calorie counting.
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I’m still liking CrossFit. I’m over feeling like I’ve been hit by a truck and have moved on to just general soreness + exhaustion. I love it. It’s hard and I whine and I think it all feels like torture when I’m doing it, but it’s exactly what I want to be doing right now. I like that I’m pushing myself out of my comfort zone.
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I have never really cared about my BMI (and have this feeling that it’s kind of pointless, in general), but I was reminded about its existence somehow today – so I plugged in my numbers to see what I’d get.

At 5’10” and 186, my BMI is 26.7, which is in the overweight range. At 172 – my immediate goal – my BMI will be 24.7, which is considered “normal.”

As someone who has been given weight charts and been encouraged to lose weight for years … and has ALWAYS fallen into the obese category, I was pretty shocked to find myself just 14 pounds from what they consider to be normal.
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Breakfast this morning was eggs.

I picked lunch up from Earth Fare because I didn’t feel like dealing with packing something this morning. I wound up with a salad with a little bit of oil + vinegar, some chicken that had been marinated in pineapple juice (and some other inconsequential stuff), I think, and steamed green beans.

I ate a snack when I got home from work because I was starving. Turkey/hummus/pickle and a few pieces of cantaloupe.

Weird? Maybe. Good, though. I ended up having to squish the whole thing a little more to make it more like a taco.

(Didn’t eat all of this. I’ve been buying a cantaloupe roughly each week and pre-cutting.)

Jon roasted a chicken for dinner, so we had chicken, peas and steamed squash.

My dessert was yogurt + strawberries + blueberries + a little bit of melted dark chocolate.

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