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Finally, a gain.

Not a big surprise, it's water retention week, plus I had two big losses (read: more than 1% of my total body weight) the past two weeks, I haven't had a gain in 15 weeks and on Saturday the boy and I went wild at TGIF and then the movies.

So putting on .2kg (.4lbs) is not anything to worry about at all.

What was more remarkable was tonight's Weight Watcher's meeting.

I had two separate people tell me that I was inspirational. One commented that she'd been going to WW for 13 weeks and in that time she had seen huge changes in me.

I didn't know anyone was paying that much attention!

It's true that our lecturer did point me out a couple of weeks ago to mention that I'd lost 15kg. But I had no idea that people were actually monitoring my progress in the group. It's kind of cool, but a little bit freaky too.

I've received a couple of comments on this blog too, saying that people found me inspirational. Thank you, seriously. It's very kind of you. If my wittering, tracking, exercising and water drinking helps anyone, then that is as gratifying as the weight loss.

Katherine the lecturer also overheard me talking to some girls in the queue about how I'd eaten 2 days worth of points on Saturday. She called on me during the meeting to tell the group what I had done. For the viewers at home, Katherine was NOT trying to embarrass me, she knew I could deal with the attention and she was making a very important point that I wholly support. The point she was trying to make is that it's OK to have a giant blow out, as long as you stop it there, get back on the wagon and don't beat yourself up about it.

I've raved about this before and it's exactly what I did. Yes, on Saturday night I ate a 17.5 point burger. I drank 9 points worth of alcohol. I ate popcorn and lollies and potato skins with bacon and cheese and sour cream.

And I ENJOYED EVERY SINGLE BITE. It was delicious. I did not feel one bit of guilt or recrimination for what I'd eaten.

Most importantly, the next day, I was back on track, exercising and eating good food again.

We can't all be perfect. We have our bad days, bad weeks even. If you focus on those and beat yourself up about them, you'll freeze and never move on. Accept what's happened and move the hell on.

Who knows, by doing that, you might be inspiring someone else.

Disclaimer: I'm not a real doctor nor do I have a medical background. Nothing in this entry should be construed as medical advice, it's just my own research and experience. All care but no responsibility taken. Not valid in all states. Do not exceed recommended dosage. Void if removed.

I posted recently about the way we all crave external validation. We live and die by a list of numbers; kilograms, pounds, inches, centimeters, clothing sizes, whatever.

It is not enough that we feel healthier, that we can walk without puffing, that we sleep better, that we have more energy. We need those numbers to make us feel like we’re doing the right thing.

And there is no number more insidious than that on the dial of a set of scales.

We measure because it’s a simple way to quantify our achievement. But that only makes sense in a stable environment.

The female body is NOT a stable environment.

There is stuff going on in there constantly. Things are changing on a daily, hourly basis. Processes that are necessary for us to survive, processes that can create such profound change in such a short period of time that a static measuring tool like a scale simply can't keep up. Certainly not on a daily basis, anyway.

Unfortunately, that is how a lot of us use scales.

You always hear people telling you not to weigh yourself every day. You've probably wondered why. Let Dr Tree™ explain it all.

The inimitable JuJu at The Skinny Daily wrote about this very phenomenon recently; Overnight Gains. By the way, if you’re not already reading The Skinny regularly, what's wrong with you? Go on, go read. I'll still be here when you get back.

She outlines a whole raft of reasons why your humble bathroom scales just can't cope with daily weigh-ins. Your body is doing so many crazy things on a daily basis that your poor scales can't possibly keep up. Take water retention. No, please, really, take it, for the love of all that's holy…

Not only that, but your scales are only giving you a tiny piece of the weight loss puzzle. We've already covered why your weight might not change but your body might shrink. The scales can only give you a reading of your current mass, it can't tell you WHY you weigh what you do.

So, of course, if the number on the scale isn't in your favour, you freak out. But I ate really well, I did all my exercise, I did all the right things, WHY GOD WHY?!

And then you go and eat your body weight in chocolate mud cake.

Or you get on the scales and the number makes you smile but last week you ate lard burgers with a side serving of lard and glued your butt to the sofa. So you eat an entire chocolate mud cake in celebration because the scales let you think you can get away with it.

We need to keep what the scales tell us in perspective. It's only one part of the total weight loss process and it is an uninformed part of that process. It's not the be all and end all.

Your bathroom scales are a tool. Understand that and understand their limitations.

Don't let them dictate how you feel about what you've achieved.

This has been another quality rant by Dr Tree™ - Making nutritional and fitness mistakes for 20 years so you don't have to.

"But that's enough about me. Let's talk about you. What do you think of me?"

Ahhh, external validation, the eternal bitch goddess. Oh, how we grovel at her feet, craving her slightest attention, the smaller number on the scales, the tape measure or the clothing label. When she denies us, how we weep and wail and stuff ourselves with the wrong sort of food and refuse to exercise because what's the point?

How we all aim for that holiest of holies, the holy grail of external validation, the comment of a friend.

Is it any wonder some days you feel you're going insane?

I'm as guilty as anyone of craving this stuff. Sure, I'll spout the party line. Don't weigh yourself every day, measure yourself so you can see results there if the scales aren't moving, blah, blah, blah.

But I'm an utter hypocrite.

(For the record, I don't weigh myself daily, but if the scale doesn't go down once a week, the bottom goes out of my world.)

I want the same validation everyone else does. Today, my ultimate craving was satisfied.

You see, most of the people I know see me too regularly enough to notice any big change. The loss is gradual and so their comments tend to be, "Have you lost more weight?" and the like.

Today I went to lunch with some work friends who haven't seen me since March of this year.

I've never been so happy to be called a 'skinny bitch' in all my life. Oh, it felt so GOOD!

Here's to many more jealous insults!

Wow, I don't know what Joelle is putting in the water for the Bahama Mama Challenge, but I've lost another kilo (2.2lbs). And here I was worrying I'd put on this week because of a spectacular loss last week.

Days like today are great. The sun is shining, Spring is springing all over the place a week early and I've had a good loss.

These are the easy days. The days of the good loss, the days you achieve a goal, the days when something fits that never has before.

But most days are not like this. Most days are in between days.

You know the days I mean.

The days you can barely drag yourself out from under the covers to go for that damned walk. The days you are this close --><-- to eating your own body weight in donuts or corn chips or whatever your weakness is.

The days you just can't be bothered drinking all that damned water or counting every bite or going to the gym or taking that dietary supplement or journaling your feelings.

Or doing any of the stuff you need to do to get where you want to be.

But you do it because if you don't, you'll never get there. You plod along and grit your teeth and suck it up because you never want to go back to where you were.

The thing to remember is that it's not the glory days that get you where you need to be. Sure, they are great motivation and they help keep your eye on the prize.

It's those plodding, teeth-gritting in between days that get you to goal. So just remember, when your butt is stuck to the sofa and you feel like you just can't be arsed doing anything, it's another in between day, another day for you to take the opportunity to get closer to the finish line.

Disclaimer: I'm not a real doctor nor do I have a medical background. Nothing in this entry should be construed as medical advice, it's just my own research and experience. All care but no responsibility taken. Objects in the mirror may be closer than they appear. Lather, rinse, repeat.

I was going to post a rant about all the people who believe that muscle weighs more than fat and that muscle can magically transmogrify into fat and that lifting weights makes you look unfeminine. About how I hate the propagation of ignorance and the idea that this discourages women from doing weight work to help them lose weight.

Instead, Dr Tree™ will explain all.

First of all, muscle DOES NOT weigh more than fat.

Repeat after me: muscle does not weigh more than fat.

Just to be sure I'm clear, muscle does not weigh more than fat.

Muscle is DENSER than fat. What's the difference? Pay attention, this is important, I may test you on it later. It doesn't weigh more. A kilo of muscle weighs exactly the same as a kilo of fat. But the kilo of muscle will be smaller than the kilo of fat. It will take up less space.

If you think about a kilo of lead and a kilo of feathers, they both weigh the same, but the pile of feathers will be much bigger than the lead. It's the same with muscle and fat.

Poor Kim discovered this the hard way just recently. While her weight had not changed on the scales, all of a sudden her clothes fit better. This puzzled her.

If she had gained a pound of muscle and lost a pound of fat, then this makes perfect sense. Her weight would be unchanged, but she would be physically smaller.

Another example: You get two women, both who weigh 70kg. One trains with weights, the other does little or no exercise. The weight lifter will be smaller than the other girl. She will wear a smaller clothing size. Why? Because she has a lower body fat percentage than the other girl. She has a higher muscle mass percentage. So while she weighs the same as the other girl, her muscle takes up less room than the fat on the other girl.

So, the lesson to learn here? Putting on muscle is good for you. While the needle on the scale might not go down, the size of your jeans certainly will. Besides, muscle burns fat even when you're asleep. It needs to burn fat just to maintain itself. How can something that burns fat while you sleep be bad?

Look forward to future rants in the Ask Dr Tree™ series: 'No, you're not going to turn into Arnold Schwarzenegger if you lift weights', 'If you think muscle turns into fat or vice versa, I have a lovely bridge to sell you' and 'What do you mean you don't measure yourself as well as weigh yourself, are you out of your mind?'

Just a quick update because it's way past my bedtime, but those suit skirts in my wardrobe that I haven't been able to wear for the past 18 months?

I can now. [enormous grin]

Looks like the Bahama Mama Challenge was just what I needed. The scales showed a 1.2kg (2.6lb) loss today.

Better yet, I measured myself today and there's 10.5cm (4.1") less of me than a month ago!

Go me!

In total, I've lost the following:

Neck: 3cm (1.1")
Bust: 8.5cm (3.3")
Under Bust: 6cm (2.3")
Waist: 8cm (3.1")
Belly: 16cm (6.2")
Hips: 11cm (4.3")
Thigh: 5cm (1.9")

My upper arm measurement hasn't changed, but the muscle I've put on has toned up the 'bat wings' I had a bit.

As you may have gathered from the tone of this post, the challenge and the results have left me feeling pretty chipper. It feels really nice when your hard work pays off.

Of course, with such a big loss, next week I imagine that I'll be lucky not to put on. But maybe, if I keep sticking to the challenge, I'll see more results like these.

The best part is that the challenge is not even hard. It's just re-focusing in on what I know I should be doing. Exercise, watch my portion sizes, drink water and make good food choices.

I may not be off to the Bahamas in January, but if this keeps up, I'll sure have the body for it!

All those little losses, week after week, have finally added up to a magnificent 15kg (33lb) loss!

With a .8kg (1.7lb) loss, I've reached my next goal!

I danced on the scales at my WW meeting as the display came up with the magic number: 85.6kg.

Time to go shopping!

Not that I have the money to buy my next reward, but as soon as my next pay cheque comes in, I'll be off to make one of those lovely iPods mine.

Reaching this goal has been a huge lift for me. I was dreading getting on the scales and seeing another tiny loss, or worse, a gain. I feel confident about what I'm doing again. I can see the progress and I feel good about it.

I'm almost halfway there. I haven't been this weight since January 2002, more than eighteen months ago. It feels good to be back. It will feel better to keep going.

Here's to the next 5kg!

I've joined Joelle & PDTD's Bahama Mama Challenge.

I still need to peel off between 16-20kg (35-44lbs) and my loss rate has been so low that it will take about two years to get there unless I ratchet things up a notch.

It's not anything more than what I need to be doing anyway. Track what I'm eating, get in plenty of exercise and guzzle water. I've been doing that for nearly six months now, I've just not been entirely disciplined about it. This challenge is just a reminder to be a bit stricter about making good choices.

Wow, six months. You'd think I'd have this weight loss thing down to a fine art, wouldn't you? You'd think I'd be little Miss Rabbit Food 2004.

But it doesn't work that way. I still have nights when all I want to do is numb myself with huge quantities of food. The difference between then and now is that I choose not to.

It's something that my WW lecturer really brought home to me week before last. That it's OK if you still get those crazy cravings. That you're not a failure if you don't automatically order steamed fish and vegetables at a restaurant. That there will be days when you won't get out of bed early to walk.

For some insane reason, I had fixated on the idea that I would be a success when all these habits were 'broken'. Until then, I was weak. A failure. That I would never succeed.

Success is not obliterating these things. Success is being aware of them and making good choices as often as you can. Because we are human and if you offer me the choice between cheesecake and lettuce, well, I'm not going to be noble about this.

But I know that if I eat the cheesecake, I need to do x amount of exercise and watch what I eat for a couple of days afterward. And that I can enjoy the cheesecake and not beat myself up for it afterwards. I just need to make different choices after eating it to compensate.

So I'm OK with the flawed thinking that lets me believe that an over-full tummy will make the pain go away. But I'm much happier that I can choose to ignore that thinking and choose something better for myself.

Yep, another teeny little .2kg (.4lb) loss. Chipping away, down, down the scale like Alice down the rabbit hole.

Which pretty much describes my brain for the last week.

Gah.

I know now that it's work-related. I had a client shitstorm blow up this morning and I instantly felt a million times better than I had in weeks. Even if they are giving me grief, at least I'm doing some work now and that makes me feel better.

I had to give in on Monday night, though. I had to comfort eat. I needed the comfort that a full belly gave me. Instead of just inhaling everything in sight like I used to do, I planned it carefully and took my husband out to a nice Italian restaurant where I ate a huge plate of seafood risotto. Not as bad for me as a Dorito/chocolate blowout, but WAY more points than I needed.

I enjoyed every single bite as it went down. Soft, creamy risotto rice and sweet explosions of delicious seafood.

I sat there afterwards, my belly stuffed, and felt a tiny bit less miserable and pleased that I'd not gone and done something that would totally torpedo all I've done so far.

It's the only thing that's stopped me from attaching a nosebag to my face and medicating myself into numbness with food. I've come so far, I don't want to go back again.

What do you know, maybe nothing tastes as good as being thinner feels.