Good Old Fashion Frustration

Frustrated.  Actually, that's an understatement.  I am more than frustrated.  I know I feel like I am beating a dead horse but I am sick and tired of being in a stalemate with my scale.  I KNOW the number don't necessarily show the work I have been doing but for Christ's sake, it's been a month and the number hasn't budged down since I started this blog.  There is nothing left for me to feel except frustration, anger, and a scale that's lucky it hasn't been thrown out the window yet.  I'm genuinely asking for help here: what am I doing wrong?!

Since departing ways with Ed I:

1.  Eat breakfast, almost daily, therefore jump starting my metabolism.  And I make sure I put a piece of fruit in it (example this morning: plain bagel and banana, yesterday: blueberries, cantaloupe, plain bagel)
2.  Gave up beer.  This worked for Michelle's wedding, so I know it can't be hindering the process.
3.  Work out 5-6 days a week, incorporating strength training and running 2x-3x's longer than I have been able in my entire life (that's 4 to 6 miles a run! 40+ minutes on a treadmill!) I know that muscle weighs more than fat, and the working out has probably contributed to this lack of weight loss, but come on, give me something!
4.  Made conscious decisions when I eat.... I hold the cheese, leave the bun off, skip the bacon, and among other things even order vegetarian instead of red meat (I love my bacon burgers, people!)
5.  Cut back on the diet coke, and trust me, not easy. 

I just don't know what I am doing wrong.  I told myself the scale's probably about to budge... but that was a month ago!! At this rate I'm genuinely afraid I will not reach my goal weight... and that's 11 months away! 

Phew... okay, there's my rant and vent.  But that wasn't the whole point of this post.  A part of this journey is realizing when I have a problem, I need to come up with a healthy solution.  The only thing I can think of at the moment is that I really have strayed away from doing weight watchers.  I guess I told myself if I'm running 3-6 miles every other day and working out on the days off, I could give myself some slack when counting points.  I'm not saying I'm consuming 30+ points a day, but I know that I'm not keeping as good of track as I should be.  So,  this week as a trial basis, I'm going back on weight watchers full time.  That's back to counting, back to measuring, and yes, back to counting alcohol.  Maybe this time next week I will be happy to say I've found a solution to the problem.

A bonus to all of this is that even though I'm frustrated as hell, Ed hasn't found a way back into the picture.  That's definitely something I haven't always been able to say.  This truly is the end of my rope with frustrations, but the thought of puking doesn't even cross my mind.  At this point, the idea of chucking up my food disgusts me.  Perhaps this is like childhood asthma, maybe I've finally grown out of it.  No matter what though,  it's nice to say it's no longer an option, let alone even a choice. 

I could kill the scale.

Sorry for the lack of posts but due to my more than inconsistent internet access, this blog has been forced to take an undesired backseat. 

This week has been more than hard.  I'm trying really hard to ignore what my scale says, and partially its because I'm playing f*ck f*ck games with it.  By this, I step on the scale and see the number.  If I don't like the number, I balance on one foot slowly adding weight to the scale until I can get it to stop on a more appropriate number.  I repeat until I think I have my scale fooled, and the number looks better to me.  Is this productive towards weight loss? No. Does it make me happy? Yes.  But in the back of my mind I know it's only temporary because I have given myself a false, inaccurate reading of what I weight. 

I came to the self realization then that although I am far enough along in my recovery that I am capable of keeping a scale in my presence (something that took me almost 4 years to do, but more on that journey later) maybe I shouldn't be weighing myself everyday.  Maybe it would be healthier for my menal health (and less stressful on my emotional state) to simply weight myself once a week, maybe Thursdays before the weekend begins, or Monday's to hold me accountable for them.  This way, I don't guilt trip myself when I eat an extra serving of chips knowing that I could see it on the scale tomorrow.  Instead I'll focus on amping my workout, and it probably won't show the next week.  Stay tuned to see how this next realization works out.