Stick a fork in me. I'm done!

This feels monumental. I've never been here before, I've never said this before.
                                I'm finished losing weight.
This photo is the main reason.

I got very excited this morning when I had what I consider to be a massive NSV* After my shower, I found that a bath towel, not a bath sheet but a standard towel, wrapped around me completely. There was a time when even a bath sheet would not have come close to covering me. So there I was, wrapped in a towel that's one size up from a hand towel! I could have cried. So I took a photo. I took a couple actually. I looked at it properly later. I look thin in it. Not just slim, actually verging on skinny.

Now, a lot could be down to the angle (though I still look thin in the other pics, which are all a little different) and the bathroom had this whole steamy, soft focus thing going on. But even taking that in to account, I can quite clearly see bones. My collar bone and the top of my rib cage, above my poor saggy boobies, are visible. So numbers on the scales be damned. I'm done. I will formulate a plan for maintenance and continued fitness, but as to losing more weight? If it happens naturally, if my body wants to go down another pound or two, as I learn to adjust my caloric allowance and as I research my needs for my basal metabolic rate, then it can happen without me yearning for it.

I know this means that I will stay a little above my B M I range, but if I was to cut away the excess skin and flappy bits (not the good flappy bits, you understand. Fnarr, fnarr!) that would near enough account for that extra poundage.

The other reason for deciding to get started on stopping losing (that's a clunky sentence, but I really like it) was a telly programme that I watched last night, "Super Slimmers: Did They Really Keep The Weight Off?" It was about people who'd lost vast amounts of weight, sometime very quickly, and it asked what their chances were of keeping it off. In short, not good! As a whole, the programme was depressing as fuck. Apparently, we all stand a very small chance of maintaining our losses. And if that's the case, it's tempting to say, "Well, why bother?" But as one doctor/researcher pointed out, we all start these diets deciding or hoping that we'll be the one to buck the trend. I certainly did. And the fact that this is at least my fourth big weight loss attempt (with out even considering the myriad smaller ones) is testament to the fact that I am the very personification of the rule, rather than an exception to it. So far. 

And that's the point. I refuse to believe that I'm stuck at twenty stone for the rest of my life, or yoyoing between ten and twenty stone. From today, I will be the exception. I have to believe that, otherwise I might as well just have knee replacement surgery and go on diabetes meds right now.

This very positive thinking is a bit at odds with my recent behaviour. I've had a funny couple of weeks. By which I mean funny, peculiar, as opposed to funny, haha. My blogging has been non-existent and of late, even my participation in my Facebook group has been limited to skulking in the background, silently stalking. Reading posts, but rarely commenting. My behaviour in my running group has been a little more interactive. I've continued to post about some of my runs, with photos. I'm particularly proud of Sunday just past, when I ran thirteen miles, a half marathon distance, amidst strong winds, a hail shower and some stunning scenery.

I ran the coast, between my house and my in-laws. You should have seen my MIL's face when she answered the door to my puce, sweaty wee dish :-)

                                      

As far as food is concerned, I've been up and down. The week before last, I wasn't particularly healthy or unhealthy, but I ended up with a small gain. I was gutted. Getting to withing half a stone of my chosen goal weight, but then gaining, was frustrating. Then last week I probably had my worst week yet, and I ended up fearing that I was going to lose all control and start a downward spiral that I'm all too familiar with, I went over my allowance every single day last week, and though I also exercised a lot, it never made up the deficit.I was really annoyed at myself.

I didn't make things any better by the weekend. In fact, in a perfect act of self sabotage, I went on a binge on Friday and Saturday, ate about 6000 calories each day and did it with full premeditation. I knew I would feel like shit come Sunday and did it anyway. This was different to the two planned days at Christmas. Everything I ate this time was unplanned and nutritionally void. I'm ashamed and disgusted with myself at the huge quantities I consumed. I don't mind that I'm human, and slipped off my plan for a while, but my greed and inability to moderate myself shames me,

I feel that I need to list everything, so it's clear that I'm not exaggerating. I also think it will go some way to expunging my feeling of guilt, The one positive is that, for the first time ever, I kept a note of everything I ate on MFP. So I know exactly how heinous my crime against my body was. I cringe to write it all down, but here goes, in chronological order...
Friday:
            My usual coffee, cocnut oil and cinnamon    55 cals
            Corned beef slices 200g                                    450 cals
            Caramel Squares x 4                                         940 cals
            Pain Au Chocolat x 6                                       1135 cals
            Jelly Babies 180g                                               600 cals
            Large Sausage Roll x 2                                     820 cals
            Cadbury Dairy Milk Caramel 120g             570 cals
            Milk chocolate raisins 100g                        475 cals
            Jelly beans 100g                                               350 cals
            Mum's chicken, potato and veg dinner      730 cals
                                                                            ------------
                                                                             6125 cals
           
Saturday:
           Scrambled eggs x 3                                           200 cals
           Smoked Salmon 100g                                          170 cals
           Ben & Jerry's 500 ml                                          1095 cals
           Haagen Dazs 500 ml                                           1130 cals
           Burger on brioche with bacon and cheese      550 cals
           Chunky chips x small bowl                                 250 cals
           Ferrero Rocher x 16                                            1170 cals
           Co op triple choc cookies x 4                             980 cals
           Pringles 180g                                                        960 cals
                                                                              -----------
                                                                             6505 cals

With no exercise on either day, I think I can safely say that when I decide to fuck something up, I do it big style. And it's no surprise that I was not at my peak when I did my thirteen mile run the next day. Still, I got up on Sunday, slapped a smile on my face and a padlock on my gob, and ran for two hours twenty minutes, earning 1450 cals. I ate within allowance (allowing extra, on-the-hoof fuel for the run) and was generally feeling more optimistic, though still scared about my lack of control.

I weighed myself on Monday morning and was devastated to see it said 153lbs. Well back into the 150s. But at least it was still just in the ten stone bracket. Given what I consumed, it could have been worse. That didn't make me feel better though, as I got ready to go to work. I was letting myself get depressed about it when I found a little perspective. My clothes still fit me, a new UnderArmour jacket arrived and fitted perfectly. I didn't look any different. Then there was the fact that Helbells told me that a heavier than usual exercise session makes the muscles retain water to facilitate recovery. So who's to say that 153lb was my true weight? And lo it came to pass. For the last two mornings, I've been back down to 145lb, just one pound higher than my lowest weight. I'm happy with that.

And so I come to my decision, my bold, and if I may say so myself, pure genius, move to go on to maintenance. I've never looked, or more importantly, felt better in my own skin (despite how loose a lot of it is!) I'm healthy and fit. I ran a half marathon distance a couple of days ago FFS! Many people thinner and younger than me couldn't do that! I find myself genuinely feeling that I'm at my goal. I have to be careful that I won't end up dissatisfied because I didn't end up at the original number I set, 136lb, that I'm not settling for a "consolation prize" goal weight. But this isn't set in stone. I can change goal after a while if I feel like it. But for now, I'm here. I've arrived. Goal.

In celebration, my blog title has changed, as I planned once the loosing portion of this experience (I refuse to use the word journey) was over. I like the new title. I like it a lot :-)

I feel as if I can finally move on to the next stage of this weight loss thing. This is the hard part

Here's to keeping it off


* N S V = Non scales victory i.e. anything that makes you feel you've made progress with your weight loss, that's not the numbers on the scales. For me, a biggie was getting my socks on without having to sit down to do it, and lift my foot on to the opposite knee, by hand. Or running up and down the stairs without getting a red, sweaty face. Or sitting in train seats in comfort (there's a possibility I've mentioned that one before :-D ) Or the favourite, looking and feeling good in clothes, and even going down sizes. All great NSVs. I'm sure everyone has their own special one, maybe that no one else would even think of.