Reset, Don’t Quit

To all my faithful blog readers and supporters of my journey on Program—I apologize for missing last week’s blog post.

While I’m unsure how many people noticed, my posts have been becoming increasingly delayed since returning from the cruise and losing my grandfather in February.

I’ve been struggling.

Not just with his loss, but also with Program and with writing this blog.

The previous week, I had lost another pound, which did feel like a small success. This week, however, the scale showed a very different result. I was up ten pounds. Again.

That single pound loss had finally cleared the previous gain, and now, in just seven days, I’m right back where I was four short weeks ago.

My grandfather was a huge supporter of this blog and an even bigger supporter of me working toward a better version of myself. That isn’t to say he didn’t already love me exactly as I was—inside and out, at any size. He knew I was struggling. I struggled—and still struggle—with being happy, feeling confident, and truly loving myself.

In his own way, I think he related deeply to my inner turmoil.

I don’t mean that being a military veteran and likely carrying PTSD is anything like the struggles of being unhappy with yourself. But I do think he understood pain, self-doubt, and carrying emotional weight in a way I will probably never fully put into words.

And despite the fact that he understood me, sympathized with me, and loved me no matter what, right now… I think he would be disappointed in me.

Frankly, I’m disappointed in myself too.

I know at my core that without Program—and the structure it creates for living life in a healthier way—I will always struggle with my weight.

I need Thin’s In.

I need Program.

But I also need this blog.

When we are actively doing Thin’s In, we meet at Thin’s In – sometimes in groups or sometimes privately - once a week for half an hour.

Only 30 minutes.

Out of the 10,080 minutes in a week, that’s only 1/336th of it (or 0.298% — thank you, ChatGPT, for the math).

And sometimes, half an hour just isn’t enough time to process the week—whether it was a gain or a loss. Add emotional turmoil into the mix, and that 30 minutes can feel like three.

The good weeks—the busy weeks where Program went well and the scale reflected it—aren’t always spent talking about food sheets or behavior modifications. Sometimes they’re spent catching up, laughing, or talking about fun things and new recipes.

But the last 13 weeks, as a whole, have not been good.

My attention to the details of Program hasn’t been where it should be. My goals feel unclear, and I’ve been lacking the passion and focus that usually keep me moving forward.

And while missing last week’s blog was concerning enough that the boss lady forwarded me the complaints and concerns, unless an unexpected vacation suddenly appears, no more blog posts will be missed.

Honestly, if this were an actual job, I’m fairly certain I would have received a written warning and been placed on a Performance Improvement Plan by now.

Thankfully, Program isn’t a job.

It’s a lifestyle.

A way of living where food no longer has power over us.

Which leads me to another thought I’ve been having lately:

We—as a society, not just the people reading this blog—give food far too much power.

Not just in the way we eat it, but in the way we describe it and emotionally connect ourselves to it.

• Hearty

• Soul food

• Craving

• Satisfying

• Indulgent

• Tempting

• Mouth-watering

• Addictive

• “Food for thought”

• “Starved for attention”

• “Savor the moment”

• 
  

These are only a few examples.

But the worst phrase of them all is:

Food is sustenance. It gives us energy to survive. Yes, it can be delicious, appetizing, tasty, and even decadent. But at the end of the day, it is fuel for our bodies.

“Comfort food,” however, teaches us something entirely different.

It teaches us that food is a reward. A coping mechanism. A gift we give ourselves when we’re sad, stressed, lonely, or emotionally overwhelmed.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t actually work that way.

Food should fix hunger.

That’s exactly what HALT tries to teach us:

Hungry. Angry/Anxious. Lonely. Tired.

If your body genuinely needs energy and nourishment, eat.

But if you’re angry, anxious, lonely, tired—or emotionally struggling in any other way—you probably aren’t truly hungry.

Years ago, I read a Reddit post that has always stuck with me, and I want to share it here. While it does still encourage you to eat when needed (because no one enjoys being hangry), the overall message remains important.

And while those reminders are some of my favorites, I also want you to think about these:

• If you feel overwhelmed — write your thoughts down

• If you feel stuck — set goals and plan for the future

• If you feel restless — take a walk

• If you feel like giving up — remember a time you succeeded

  
  

Lately, I’ve felt like giving up.

Like throwing in the towel and walking away.

But I know that’s not what I truly want for myself—and it’s not what Grampy would want for me either.

The last time I truly felt successful on Program, he was still here cheering me on.

So now, in a way, I continue doing this for both of us.

For him.

And for me.

To myself—and to anyone reading this—don’t give up.

Reset.

Keep moving forward.

Take it one day at a time.

And no matter where you are in your journey, know that I’m right here beside you.

This week: 10 pounds gained

Total loss so far: 48 pounds