See, I did manage to get this up faster than last week's results! Let's cut to the chase, shall we?
Week 1: 147.25
Week 2: 150.25
Week 3: 148.12
Week 4: 145.25
Week 5: 146.5
Week 6: 144.25
Week 7: 143.25
Week 8: 143.99
Week 9: 142.66
Hah! Take that, scale! I'm below 143, and in utter shock because I am now, arguably, in the low 140's as opposed to mid. It's been well over 10 years since I've seen a weight this low.
No words of wisdom/ shrieks of doom from the Weight Watchers e-tools, though. For one thing, it's barely over one pound, and for another, I didn't have my actual weigh-in scale for my official weigh-in yesterday because I was still at home with the sick Elder son, so all I could do was get out the little floor scale we have at home that has the spring-loaded dial and everything (yes, we're complete Luddites) and try to read it from a standing height.
When you're 41, in denial about your need for bifocals at the minimum, and are admittedly past due for a new glasses prescription, these visual things can get tricky.
Anyway, after moving the scale from its upright storage position -- because there is truly nowhere in our house we can put it down and leave it down -- making sure it was level, and then hopping on that sucker, it said 143.5...ish? Maybe? It was the best I could figure with all my squinting and moving about trying to gauge where the pointer actually landed. So that's what I entered into Weight Watchers. Then today, after winning mother-of-the-year for shoving my potentially-malingering adolescent out the door to school, I made it to my parents' house for my official weigh in on their medical-style scale, which is where I've formally been weighing in since back in 2006 when I started off at 200 pounds.
And that scale, my dears, is what netted me this lovely number in the 142 range (and yes I totally taunted the scale with glee once I realized I was below 143).
Moving on, in comments on my last entry Tony Van Helsing said: "I'm not sure what pound cake is but it sounds like it would be disastrous to dieters." Okay, Patsy, Marie, anyone who's over in Great Britain, do we not have pound cake on your side of the pond? Yipes!
It's good. It's heavy. And no, it's not diet food -- not by a long shot. As for disastrous, well that depends on how much of it one crams down one's gaping maw, I'd say. One slice isn't going to do a dieter in, assuming the dieter in question is capable of stopping at that one slice.
Since I know myself well, that would be why I am a) leaving the pound cake at my parents' on Sunday rather than taking it back home, and b) will be delivering it to the office on Monday so my coworkers -- most of whom are males and have never seen a diet they didn't scoff at -- can consume it at will. I'm not worried about eating it before I take it over to my folks' because my ego is tied up enough with my baking that I'd rather have a perfect, whole cake to hand over for the celebration than something with an obvious slice removed. Sure, I could argue I was just doing quality control (and have), but, uhm... they know me a bit better than that.
Here's hoping we aren't there long enough for me to lunge for seconds.
March 27th, 2017 Most Things
7 hours ago