Monday night, between my husband and I:
Me: Babe, I'm seriously contemplating taking a diet pill. I hear about this one on the radio everyday that the DJ talks about, and she's lost 32 pounds in less than three months.
Hubby: Why would you do that? You know that's not the right way to lose weight. Remember how you felt 10 years ago when you tried that before WW? You were a lunatic.
Me: Yeah, I know that, but I'm desperate to lose the last of this weight. I've been trying for a year and I just can't get the last few pounds off! It's frustrating.
Hubby: But have you REALLY been trying?
The truth hurts, doesn't it?
He's right, though. I haven't been trying. I put in a little effort here and there, but for the most part I fall right off the wagon the second I'm bored and stuff my face with a snack. I justify it by saying, "Eh, I'll just start again tomorrow", and continue on with my calorie fest without another ounce of hesitation.
I was working out really well for a while there, but then we went home last month, I gained all that weight back, and gave up.
It really was something that I needed to hear, especially with the holidays upon us. He's not being a bad guy, he didn't call me any names, he just pointed out to me that I haven't been committed to this process and THAT is why I haven't lost those last few pounds. When I committed myself to my original weight loss, I got it done -- and fast. Now, I let my crazy busy life cloud my judgement and interfere with my success.
No matter how much I want to deny it, the number on the scale DOES matter to me, and I desperately want to be the number I was before I had The Little Little One. Even more, I want to lose THOSE last few pounds and be the number I was BEFORE ever having kids.
But it'll take a whole hell of a lot more than whining to get there.