I couldn’t post yesterday as I was incandescent with rage. Such a nice phrase, but I wish I didn’t have to use it. I gained 0.6 kg (1.5lb) which meant after three weeks of Going For Gold I am 0.3 kg heavier than when I started.
Before anyone suggests I’m self-sabotaging or stalling, let me assure you this is not the case. Nor is it a plateau. I don’t believe in plateaus, not for me anyway. Besides, a plateau suggests that one has levelled out from some sort of height. I haven’t even got off the floor yet! Trust me, I want to get to goal. I am determined and I have been working hard, but it just wasn’t reflected on the scales.
So I managed to talk myself down from the ledge. I know last week was a Good One. But the week before was a shocker. Sometimes the true crapness of a Crap Week takes longer to properly show up on the scales, just as a Good Week doesn’t always show up instantly.
(I am also bloated like a mofo. That should be over with by the end of the week, hopefully without me taking any prisoners!)
I have also been at this long enough to know it is dangerous to focus too much on the dreaded machine. All I need to do is have another Good Week, and then another and another. Consistently staying conscious of what I eat and how I move my wobbly arse. Until I rack up a whole bunch of Good Weeks in a row I can’t expect to see great movement on the scale. So I have to keep going and not panic!
Have to admit though, despite the fact that my trousers feel looser and my waist is smaller and I could lift heavier weights this week… as soon as I stepped on the scale I felt completely shit for awhile there; that sinking realisation that my goal was now even further away.
But I got on with it, and as soon as I started flinging around some dumbells and admiring my so-called biceps I was reminded again what this is supposed to be about. Gettin’ healthy! Being strong! Pushing myself! Why do I forget that so easily?
Onward and downward!