241*

I was going to call today's post "I lost 3 pounds in the bathroom this morning," but rightly nixed that idea.  So instead, I decided to post my weight.  With an asterisk.

For a couple weeks, I've been flirting with the notion of weighing myself, something I haven't done since surgery.  And then I thought "Why not publish my weight in my blog, like Shauna Reid's The Amazing Adventures of Diet Girl (a good book and fun blog)?  And then I thought: "Well Thanksgiving's almost upon me: why not start with my Thanksgiving weight?  Better yet, start with my weight of The Morning After!"

So with Carbapalooza 2011 behind me (literally!), this morning I waddled to the scale and hoisted myself up onto it.  244.  Okay so be it.  But the scale was wobbly (who wouldn't be with me standing on them?), so I moved it from the textured tile to the bath mat (if I'm going to regularly post my weight, I'd like some kind of stability), and suddenly I was down 3 pounds to 241.

241.  There it is.  People who love me will still love me; people who don't give two hoots won't start now.

What matters is that I've given myself a new starting line.  If you've been reading me for any length of time, you know from my weight lifting classes that I like to know how many are left.  Although I don't know how many pounds are left, because I'm a believer of "I'll know my ideal weight when I get there," I know that 241 is not my ideal weight.  Heaven knows it's more than I weighed in that triathlon photo on my desk - the one with me in a swimsuit and bike shorts; the one I want to improve upon - along with my time - next year.

So what does 241 mean?  It means I can give myself a Celebration Goal.  On The Biggest Loser this week, there was much ado about a contestant who never celebrated or appreciated his achievements (like losing 9 pounds in a week).  And then there were Abby's words about celebrating no matter how painful life gets.


   Build on the theme of appreciating & celebrating. 
  
   Build on "Seasons of Love" from Rent:

525,600 minutes, 525,000 moments so dear,

525,600 minutes, how do you measure, measure a year?

In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee,

In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife

In 525,600 minutes, how do you measure, measure a life?

   Build on the Bigges Loser contestant's (I was sleepy by now & don't remember which one) goal to complete 500 miles in half-marathons to raise money for children.

   Build on the Christian notion of the Church Year starting this weekend with the first Sunday of Advent.

Build and build and build and TA-DA!  I've built a little something in my mind: a guideline to get me where I want to go and I've got a Celebration Goal (I will not dishonor it by calling it a mini goal as I was once taught).  My Celebration Goal is 235 pounds.  When my scale on the bathmat reads 235, I'll celebrate with a little happy dance and maybe a handful of confetti.

I've also created some bigger Me-Powered-Goals:

Goal #1: Within these next 525,600 minutes I will complete the equivalent of an Ironman, though not all in one fell swoop: I'm not even cleared for swimming yet.

Goal #2: Within these next 525,600 minutes I will learn from my vegetarian & vegan companions how to expand my cooking repertoire so that I'm not only eating according to my conscience, but in harmony with my body's needs.

Goal #3: Within these next 525,600 minutes I will strive toward achieving my Celebration Goals and accept myself along the way.