On Approach

This morning I weighed 248.6 -- below 250 for the first time in a while, and less than five pounds from my first big goal.

So I guess I'm surviving the holidays okay, so far -- the extra candy in the house, the cookie party we had last weekend, the tray of treats in the office kitchen. I'm not abstaining, because that would just make me feel martyred and grouchy. I actually dipped into my flex points this week for my office's holiday luncheon. I piled my plate high -- but I tried to be sensible. I took a big scoop of baked ziti, and an equally big scoop of salad. I had a slice of salami off the antipasta platter, and a tomato covered with fresh mozzarella, and a couple of olives bigger than my thumb. And I damned well had a slice of the German chocolate cake for dessert.

But I didn't go back for seconds (though the gods know I wanted to) and I logged it all and I accepted the flex points that it burned. I ate dinner and didn't starve myself that evening in some kind of twisted compensation.

It's worth noting that my best losses have been in weeks when I've been having small indulgences on a regular basis. The week of my birthday, when I was having coconut cake every day. This week, with the party and the cookies and candy in the house. The key, I think, is small. I'm not eating a quarter of a cake. I'm eating a slice. Half a slice. Three or four pieces of chocolate. Two or three small cookies (or one big one). Normal-people amounts.

These amounts do not satisfy. I don't care what anyone else says. They just don't. They make me want more, and more, and more. But I'm drawing the line. I'm eating normal-people amounts of sweets and junk food, and I'm logging it, and I'm counting the points.

And I'm losing weight.