I gained a pound this week. GAINED. As in "opposite of LOST"
Yes, I wasn't perfect this week: I drank wine and ate cheese with my bookclub; I partied a bit on the 4th. I could totally accept it if I didn't lose any weight this week, but ..... GAINED????
Yes, Rational my love, I KNOW that the scale doesn't matter as much as BMI and inches, but weight is an easy, quantifiable number.
And I don't like the spike on my Excel graph (Yes, I'm a dork, I have a spreadsheet set up to document my weightloss and Yes, I've made a pretty, colorful graph...)
I get that, really, one pound doesn't amount to a whole lot in the grand scheme of things, but it's very very demoralizing.
Sharon was pragmatic: "Plateaus happen" she told me. But I don't WANT them to happen. If I had MY way, my gently-sloping decline would really be a black-diamond ski-slope.