By this time you guys probably think that I’ve either fallen off the wagon or fallen off the face of the earth.
I guess it’s partially a bit of both.
Or is it?
I debated whether I would write this post for a few weeks. Here’s the thing: I write what’s true to me, and then everyone reads it. Which is great! But…then sometimes people I know “in real life” mention a post specifically, and sometimes it gets awkward. But that’s still okay, because they’re reading my writing. Yay!
Buuuuuut…um…often, my mom reads my posts. In fact, she’s probably reading this one right now (hi, Mom!). And then she comments on the post, to my face.
So the big question was, did I want to share what I am about to share with you…with my mom.
Well, Mom found out, so I guess it’s okay to write about it now.
This post is NOT about an endless pit of despair and gaining all my weight back plus some. It’s about beginning to fall down into the pit, and then climbing out of it.
We’ll call it the “Cereal” Incident.
Since the end of June, I’ve been home, playing in Portland with my friends and family. This is mostly why I haven’t had a chance to update in a good while. So to my devout followers, I apologize, because I have a lot to write about after this portion of my summer.
I’m sure at some point, I’ve written about some of the trials of being home. The house is pretty much carb central—chips, cereal, ice cream, cookies, crackers. Everything I don’t keep in my apartment, but love.
And then of course, there is OUTSIDE of the house, which is filled with coffee, happy hours, fried food, alcohol, and everything delicious (because just about everything in Portland is delicious, let’s be real).
Normally, I let myself have some things and maybe I maintain weight, but I try not to deprive myself, and have low weight-loss expectations when I’m visiting home.
Same goes for this summer.
Except…I have no idea what happened.
When I got home, one of the first things I saw was the drawer full of cold cereal. And two Costco-sized boxes of two kinds of cereal: Reeses’ Peanut Butter Puffs and Cinnamon Toast Crunch. My two all-time favorite cereals. I know, I know. That’s totally nasty and disgusting, and NEW DK would never let that crap EVER enter her body!
Um, y’all have really high expectations of me.
But, in my almost two years of Crossfit and Weight Watchers, I have never really binged. I mean, yes, I have my ups and downs, but I never had had that moment where it was like, Mmkay, Imma just eat and eat and eat and not think about it.
Somehow, and I’m still not really sure how, this is what happened.
And not for a day.
For an entire week.
I mean, we’re talking frappes, ice cream, beer, big-ass pieces of steak, crappy chocolate, and lots of other crap.
And then, one day, I got home from the beach while my parents were still there for a few days, and I thought to myself, I could really go for some Cinnamon Toast Crunch. So I went downstairs, opened up the Costco-sized box, pulled out the Costco-sized bag, and poured myself a big bowl of it. And then ate two more bowls of it.
And then afterward, I’m thinking to myself, Shit! Now Mom’s gonna come home, see the bag of cereal in the cabinet, and guilt trip me about why I opened it up. Well, I guess I better just eat the whole bag then.
I shit thee not.
And I realize that this logic is deeply, deeply flawed.
Over the next three days, all I ate was Cinnamon Toast Crunch. (Well, that, along with regular toast, plus more crap, obviously.) And then the bag was gone. And I pretty much never wanted to see Cinnamon Toast Crunch again.
Obviously, I wasn’t tracking. I was still going to Crossfit, but I was not tracking what I was eating.
So one day, I stepped on the scale (it was weigh-in day), and I nearly shat myself. I had gained around 8 pounds. Do you know how long it took me to LOSE 8 pounds? Like, three months! I gained 8 pounds in a week and a half?! What the hell was going on?!
It was only then that I started to feel a little ashamed. Or that feeling of, Shit, I REALLY need to figure things out now. The worst part about all of this was that I didn’t really even LIKE half the crap I was eating. I was just eating it mindlessly. I maybe only really enjoyed the first bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. I certainly didn’t really LOVE the last bowl.
I like to be excited about the food I eat, especially when it’s a splurge or cheat. If I go out, and nothing on the menu makes my heart sing, I get resentful and sort of don’t want to eat whatever the food is that’s there.
The food I gained 8 pounds on did NOT make my heart sing. It was crap. And I didn’t really care. I was just binging and not thinking and being lazy. And when I saw that number on the scale, I knew I was at a crossroads:
Path 1: Continue to binge; gain weight back.
Path 2: Remember why I began changing my life in the first place; start eating clean again
I wish I could say that this was an easy choice. Because once you start eating crap, it’s kind of hard to stop. But it wasn’t. But eventually, I kept on thinking, C’mon, DK, you’ve come too far to let one week make you backslide completely.
And the next day, I picked myself up, and was really strict.
And somehow, almost lost what I gained in about two weeks.
Which was great. But at the same time, it’s like, well, I would have been losing if I hadn’t had fallen down the hole in the first place, and now it’s just maintaining, practically.
And at this point, you’re probably wondering why I’m telling this to you.
I’m telling this to you because losing weight, eating healthy, and maintaining a healthy lifestyle is not easy all the time. Everyone had told me that everyone slips up sometimes, and I thought that I was impervious to the occasional binge; obviously, I have enough self-control and forethought to avoid ever doing something so heinous to myself.
Even I mess up. I’m far from perfect.
But the key here is to recognize where you’ve come from and to not let go of it. And to let this guide you back to where you want to be. Because if you lose sight of what you’ve already accomplished, it’s just that much easier to fall down the hole and not climb out.