33 34s

February 8, 2015

I think people’s patterns are interesting, as in, is it ever really possible to not fall into the same old patterns, or are we just blippin’ doomed to be who we are, forever and ever. Despite our best intentions? Despite what we’ve experienced before and vow never to repeat? Despite confident proclamations to the absolute contrary not six months earlier?

Do we really never change?

I’m partly being melodramatic and… and partly dead serious. In this case, I’m referring to the annual, so tiringly predictable end-of-year weight gain. Part of me anticipates it, expects it, plans for it. A huge part of me even looks forward to the abandon with which I approach holiday eating.

This year, though, I swear, I wrote a five-pound weight gain right into the budget (so to speak). I set myself a manageable upper limit and gave myself a range that afforded some reasonable fun. I said five extra pounds would be fine. Five, I can work with.

Somehow, I gained seven.

I’d like to comment on the value of rules and limits and how, if they’re ever going to work, you have to honor them. If you said five, then you have to stick to five. If you go to the trouble of coming up with thoughtful, reasonable, manageable rules and limits but then blow through them you’ve violated yourself and will not respect yourself in the morning.  If you violate your own rules and limits you won’t trust yourself to honor those limits the next time and the whole system just breaks down. And you feel like a schmo.

Well, seven was bad, but not that bad, it was only two pounds beyond the allowable five. So I let myself down, but not that badly. But then a couple of days into the new year, when I’d said, because it was the new year, that it was time to get back into that five pound zone, we had this trip to La Jolla to celebrate Jim’s dad’s birthday. Sensible eating wasn’t really going to happen, not just yet, not until we came back. But, and this was bad, in all the walking we did in San Diego, I somehow managed to aggravate an old injury and, long story short, I can barely walk. Going on five weeks now. Moving slowly and sitting a lot. I’ve seen two doctors, seeing another this week, have had an XRAY, gone to Hideshi five times, Kellie the massage therapist five times, been alternating ice and heat, taking heavy doses of ibuprofen…it’s only gotten worse. I’m having a problem.. but the worst of it: no exercise.

The last month has had a few more food-heavy events, a birthday and a house guest.

Seven pounds have become twelve.

And now that thing that was never going happen again, because I’d changed my ways, happened. I was sure it wouldn’t, and it did. Some was just bad luck, but most of it was a life-long pattern playing out.

[Hangs head.]

And now it’s come to this:


… had to get the ladder out and get that box down from the top shelf … and go back to these:


Because nothing else fits.

So tomorrow marks the journey back to square one. And, patterns being patterns–I know this one so well–there will be the motivation to lose weight, followed by the success-fueled certainty that the weight is gone for good, and the new and improved rules and strategies to preclude a repeat of the pattern down the road. Yawn.

Of course this is far more than a weight issue. It’s a fascinating tease of a human psyche home wrecker that baffles, frustrates, challenges and amuses me. When it doesn’t piss me off. These stupid behavioral patterns that we can never seem to wrestle to the ground and pin once and for all. Even when our brains are so smart that we recognize them, can describe them in detail, see them coming a mile away. We can fortify ourselves.. and still they get us.

Well.. there’s always next year.

3 Responses to “33 34s”

  1. aquasoul Says:

    I love your post Kari. Exceeding the weight “boundaries” – so easy and you described it so well. Hey, just cut out bread (and most all other empty carbs like white rice and potatoes) and it will melt off!

  2. Kari Says:

    Yeah… so I hear. I’m such a carb-loving gal.

  3. Bev Says:

    Oh I understand. I gave up years ago.

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