Why I haven’t quit yet.

I’ve been doing WW for 7 weeks.

For seven weeks I’ve been obsessing about the number on the scale.  I’ve been counting my points (sometimes counting a few less bites than I should) and recording the number of minutes walking or heavy cleaning or whatever.  I’ve been eyeing brownies and thinking “Oh, I shouldn’t…” and then one just isn’t enough.  I have questioned my own motives and just about reasoned myself into quitting entirely.

Today was weigh in and I almost didn’t go.  I almost didn’t go because I got on the scale as I was getting ready to leave the house.  I always do that because I like to see how my scale compares to their scale.  You know, just for reference.  I had found, to my horror…that I had gained weight.  Not a lot of weight.  But it was there.  I. Was. Horrified.  Honestly, if I wasn’t meeting a friend there (didn’t want her to think she was being stood up) I would not have gone.  I would have burned my points slider in protest, put on my sweat pants and baked some cookies.  With butter.  And extra chocolate chips.  And frosting.

But I went.  And I took Ella with me.  She was bribed into being quiet by an entire piece of gum and the promise of a Starbucks hot chocolate at the end.  (She did well…she got her hot chocolate which flew out of her hand at the first tight turn of the van and it landed upside down on the floor.  So much for that.)  I had, in fact, gained .6 of a pound.  Not much.  Had I managed a good crap I would have broken even.  But, for the effort, not a good thing.  We stayed for the meeting and it was a good one.  At the end, they had a drawing for a door prize.  Your name went in once for being at the meeting and twice if you lost weight.  (So, one for me thanks.)  The leader had Ella come up and draw the name.  And who did she draw?

That would be me.  I’m the proud owner of a WW hat, a pedometer, a walking DVD and a cookbook.  Me.  I have never won a thing in my life.  I suck at the casinos.  I don’t even win a dollar on scatch-off lotto tickets.  I am the unluckiest person I know.

And my child picked my name out of a hat.  And I won.

The moral of the story is this:  I was going to quit today.  And I didn’t.  And I won.  So I guess that means that I shoudn’t quit tomorrow either. 

And so it goes.


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