Egging Myself On

It´s been eleven months now since the inundation and as many months of having regained. 

I am still convinced that the regain and the flooding were somehow connected, most probably via some toxins that were set free in my old office. 

In spite of being out of there for good, it wasn´t like the regain stopped immediately or the weight started to drop off from the day I changed rooms. 

What I have managed by now is slowing the regain from a rate of 270 grams a week to about 80 grams a week, on average. Which still has me at 93 kilograms and a 33.3 BMI. Actually, I might have been further down had we not been duty-bound to visit with MIL for a week twice  (she expects us down there for every bank holiday). Every time that ended with a three-pound regain that I had to try and get off before even thinking of recondensing. 

As it is, I´m sick and tired of being stuck at this weight. Sick and tired of being thick and tired. 

That´s why I have switched my breakfast from bacon and eggs to a protein shake, and I am trying to replace as many meals as possible with shakes. Otherwise, I try to halve the portions of what I eat. 

I had actually, over the years, succumbed to another case of portion creep. The smaller dinnerware we use has been limiting the damages, but still, having three instead of two eggs for breakfast means about a hundred more calories, and if I don´t cut down on my eating elsewhere it partly explains why I´m still stuck in gaining mode. 

Total weight regained: 13.8 kilograms or 30 pounds. 

Distance to goal of being normal-weighted: 23.8 kilograms or 52 pounds. 

DIstance to goal at my lowest weight reached: 10 kilograms or 22 pounds. 

So, this regaining thing more than doubled the distance to goal. 

 Or, in other words, if I were to restart recondensing at a going rate of half a pound a week, I´d take another year to get back in the vicinity of the place I had already reached. 

I´ll try to be there sooner. 

This time I won´t be doing this just for myself, DH, too, has grown quite a paunch during the last year. As DFIL was type two diabetic for many years, I am afraid DH might put himself over the edge, too. Offering healthy meals, which I had been criminally neglecting since the flood, is therefore important. 

And for myself, resisting those extra nibbles and sneaky snacks in the time between coming home and putting dinner on the table. 

I have done this before. I can do this again. 

Julia