I joined Weight Watchers this past weekend. There’s a large part of me that doesn’t like to pay for something that I should be capable of doing on my own, i.e. losing some weight. But under the heading of “know thyself,” I’m realistic enough (and cheap enough) to know that if it’s costing me money, I’m much more likely to follow through and get results.
This whole thing is such a mindset. With points on the brain, I stuck to salad and one slice of pizza when out to lunch with the kids on Saturday. At the Flying Bridge, I opted for grilled salmon and vegetables. And one glass of wine ( at 4 points!) is going to have to be just fine for the foreseeable future.
A ten pounds loss would make me happy; fifteen would make goal (and delight me to no end.) There are a couple of pair of jeans in my closet that I’ve refused to part with. Becoming reacquainted with them would be a happy outcome. Vanity aside, it would also be nice to avoid having the ongoing discussion with my doctor about the fact that my test results consistently teeter on the edge of slipping over into diabetes territory.
This slow creeping on of the weight thing is yet another less interesting aspect of aging. I’m getting used to the fact that it takes me longer to do things. I can compensate for that by planning ahead. But I was once able to drop five pounds by cutting out bread. Those times are long gone. Everything has slowed down, including my ability to lose weight quickly on my own. So I’ve welcomed Weight Watchers into my life. The plan aims for a slow, steady weight loss. The pace fits with my current stage of life. Only the direction is a big improvement.