The height of the wagon will sometimes feel insurmountable.

This is a weight and fitness related post. (I need to post about what's been rattling around in my head non-stop for the past month... but I will be getting to my clothing review backlog soon because I found my camera!)

One of the most important concepts related to weight loss (permanent weight loss, versus losing weight and then packing it back on + 5 more pounds in a year) is the understanding that permanently losing weight means that "normalcy" must be reset. In the past, when I lost weight and gained it back quickly, I was upset and discouraged because "all that hard work was for nothing." When weight loss/ dieting is viewed as a short-term "punishment" to get to a desired goal, whereupon one can go back to normal... well, that's a thought process that is doomed to eventual failure.

God knows the phrase "lifestyle change" is overused (often by people who are parroting what they've heard, rather than really thinking about what it means), but it is totally, and absolutely true-- no one can go on a temporary diet and expect to maintain that "diet weight" long term. The habits you establish during weight loss need to be sustainable for the long term.

I think that's the main reason that crash diets with rapid weight loss often results in a rebound gain-- the person hasn't really established their new habits as a way of life, and there's a certain aspect of punishment when one is eating so much less than their body needs, and exercising so much that they are unable to maintain normal social and leisure activities. After that, there's going to be a level of exhaustion and relief (Yay, I won! I don't need to suffer anymore!) that often leads to a lapse of the healthier habits, rapid weight gain, and depression (because "all that hard work was for nothing!").

I don't mean to come off as unsympathetic-- I say this because I've been there. Not everyone has those thoughts, but I know at least some other people do, too. I've been that person who says "I eat pretty healthy most of the time, I don't know why I'm overweight!" I was the person that thought of diet and exercise as a punishment that I deserved for getting fat. Weight and body image are incredibly complex issues, so wrapped up with cultural stereotypes and mores, that it's hard to tease out what's real and what's not.

To be clear, I don't think there is anything wrong with larger bodies. I don't think it's right to shame anyone for their body, whether bigger or smaller (it is not my place to decide whether someone else has an eating disorder or not-- I just need to take care of myself as best I can). My reasons for weight loss, as I've mentioned before, were motivated by health concerns and a family history of obesity-related diseases.

I hit the point where I realized the path I was going down, and I couldn't tolerate knowing that I was hurting my health with my own apathy-- so I changed how I lived. I knew when I started the process that I could never go back to how I used to live, and I had no problem with establishing a new lifestyle, a new normal... and I only made changes I could keep. Like working out three times a week-- that's all I ask of myself. That's enough, if I work out hard, and it doesn't mean giving up all of my alone time. I didn't remove entire food groups, because I refuse to live a life where I can't eat bread, or fruit, or cheese, or red meat ever again. I just ate less of the same foods, and over time incorporated more unprocessed food. I moved more. Gradually over the course of about a year and three months, I lost the extra weight.

I remember seeing a comment to the effect that maintenance of weight loss is more difficult than actually losing the weight. At the time, I was still losing weight, and I thought, "but you get to eat enough to maintain your body weight! That must be awesome!" Having been in "maintenance mode" for over a year now, I understand.

I'm an intuitive thinker-- I don't think in a linear fashion (can you tell with this digression?). My mind makes connections quickly, and then I have to think over them later to understand why I just  made that connection, and how to explain it in a linear way that will make sense to other people. I think that's why it takes me so long to write blog posts like this one-- my thoughts are tangled and convoluted, and it makes sense to me but I need to write it so it will make sense to someone reading it without my mind. And that's why I now need to link, apparently at random, a Cracked article about why video games are addictive.

Weight loss is sort of fun and addictive, like how video games are designed-- there's regular rewards: seeing your weight decrease, fitting better into your clothing, feeling better about how you look, and once you've done it long enough, there's social rewards of people noticing and complimenting your altered appearance. It's more rewarding than most activities in everyday life-- way more rewarding than cleaning the cat box ("Yay, now there's more room for smelly poop that I get to clean up again!"), doing house chores, or going to work. Once you can get past the induction period where you've changed what you are doing but you don't look or feel better yet, it's incredibly rewarding and fairly consistent (on a month to month basis).

Once you've lost all the extra you that you don't want anymore, you stop getting those rewards. Your "reward" is not seeing the weight on the scale change. It's continuing to fit into the same clothes you already have. It's people no longer commenting on your weight or appearance (actually, I much prefer that to the alternative).


I never really fell off the wagon. I'd describe it more as "drift." During weight loss, I defined a new normal. Over time, that normal became working out only twice a week, sometimes only once. Eating just a little more at every meal, or having an extra snack at the end of the day, even if I wasn't especially hungry. Instead of having one "special treat" every few days or weeks (whether a meal out, a special big dessert, or an alcoholic drink or two), it becomes a "special treat" almost every day (and that wasn't compensated for by reducing other treats).

My shoulder injury starts acting up again. I'm too tired to get to the gym because I'm working too many long hours. I twisted my ankle. I just don't have the energy to go to the gym today.

A few extra pounds becomes five extra pounds becomes almost ten extra pounds. It's taken almost a year after I stopped counting calories, but it's obvious now what has happened.

I see it. I understand on a basic level how people regain weight, even when they've accepted that they can never go back to the way they were. It's insidious. It may take five years. It may be less than it was before. I can see it happening.

It's not okay. I won't let it be me again. I value my life, my health, and the body I have to live it in. I don't want congestive heart failure. I don't want my future children to see me dying too young because I didn't love and value myself enough to take care of my body.

I am re-committed. Drift, inertia, chaos: I will not let you have me. Not this time.

I am on fitocracy. If you'd like to see what I'm doing for my workouts, search here for MuscularCurves.