I remember when tipping the scale in MY favor was as easy as eating an entire large bag of popcorn at the movies all by myself...
Crap! Indulge in too many cheese puffs at your friend's graduation party? No big deal. Oh no! Didn't make it to the gym today because you were too damn hungover? No big deal. Whoops! Accidentally put one too many tablespoons of olive oil on your salad? No big deal.
I remember being rewarded with a 2-3 pound drop on the scale every week even while I was royally fucking up. I remember that great feeling of accomplishment - that surge of euphoria telling me, YES I CAN DO THIS! I remember feeling UNSTOPPABLE.
Most of all, I remember how easy it was.
Yes, this plateau is killing me. Yes, I want to fucking drop a dumbbell on the scale everytime I weigh myself. Yes, there are moments when I feel like I'll never be able to lose anymore weight - that everything I try just isn't going to work. All of these thoughts regularly rush through me in a massive ball of fury. But you know what?
This ongoing plateau, in some fucked up way, is good for me; it's pushing me to my limits. Never before have I worked out so hard at the gym. Never before have I ate so Goddamn healthy. Never before have I been so aware of every single decision I make. You know, I turned down a double cheeseburger and fries at McDonalds when I was drunk yesterday night and tipsy-walked over to Subway to get myself a sandwich. That's how fucking hard I'm working.
The hero doesn't just save the damsel in distress - or in my case, the prince - without taking a good beating from the villain first. It doesn't work that way.(Best analogy I could come up with at 2 in the morning - give me a break!)
So I guess you could say that I'm...building character?