Hand on heart, I can honestly say that one of the most satisfying things in the world for me where our blog is concerned, is when I get a thought on one of the posts or a message from someone who’s using the stuff we chatter about to help them work through their own demons. I’ve struggled with yo-yo dieting for so many years, but since I started writing my thoughts down and working through them with you lot I’ve had more light bulb moments than I can count, and it’s awesome to know that you guys pick up on stuff that can help you too.
So, you can blame our very own Fleury Knox for this one…Fleury once mentioned she was a dab hand at patchwork, and she’s been busy stitching together some of the themes across a handful of different posts. In doing so, I think she’s unlocked another bit of the enigma. Probably one of the more important ones too, at least for me. I’ve talked a lot about sliding up and down the scale in a continual loop, but Fleury sent me an email this week which pretty much stopped me in my tracks.
There were a lot of nuggets in there to be fair, but the one that resonated the most with me was around what happens when you actually get to Skinny Town. Take me for example. Once my head’s in the right place and I’ve got the bit between my teeth, I can lose weight. I’m there now, doing it, and I’m grateful…a long way to go yet, probably at least another 12 months but I’m motoring.
It’s a buzz, you know? People are starting to notice. I’m starting to be able to wear different clothes, and I no longer feel like my chins are trying to swallow my head when I lay down. The fact that I can walk more, and wrestle on a daily basis with the cross-trainer even with my still super-sized arse makes my blood pump harder and my adrenaline flow…it’s exciting. The compliments, the encouragement, and the attention is exhilarating, even more so if I remember rightly as you near the finish line and you start to flirt with your elusive goal weight.
But what about when you’ve settled into Skinny Town, and the fanfare dies down. What then? When the reality sinks in that if you want to stay there, you’ve got to dine on dust for the rest of your life, otherwise your muffin top will gradually re-emerge from the top of your pants and you’ll have a one way ticket back to square one. I’ve been there. Many times. People stop noticing, or commenting…your achievement is still monumental, but it’s so yesterday…the world has moved on.
Fleury said “My only insight as a teen at Weight Watchers meetings was that we were there in the cheap seats, the fat people; somewhere beyond, outside of that purgatory were the Elect. Referred to mysteriously as Maintenance.” I’ve got to tell you that made me laugh out loud, because I’ve been there too, watching those skinny string beans who get more points than you sashay around the meetings in their kitten heels, with their collar bones on show and looking for all the world like the cat that got the cream skimmed milk 🙂
I’ve been at goal weight for ten minutes, a couple of times in my life but with the exception of one time where a crush on Mr Muscle kept me skinny for almost a year, I’ve never been allowed near the maintenance corner because as soon as I hit goal, the diet is toast.
One thing I know to be true, is that it takes your head longer to get used to Skinny Town than your body, which in my experience is only too happy to jump headlong into new clothes and start snapping selfies 24/7. So, for all of you who read the blog who’ve already arrived and happen to be waiting for the rest of us in Skinny Town, firstly congratulations on getting there, you look virtually amazing…but what’s your plan?
What’s your plan to help you stay there? As Fleury points out, we’re all going to need one…for me it’s a way away yet, but hey this time I’m not going to be caught with my pants down, right?
