Putting Weight On
When You Feel You’ve Done Ok
Current Weight (28 Sept 2024): 119.3 Kg, 18.78 Stone, 263.01 Pounds
Weekly Weight Gain: 0.2 Kg, 0.44 Pounds
Weight Loss So Far… 18.4 Kg, 2.89 Stone, 40.56 Pounds
Weekly Summary
The Frustrations Of Weight Gain
Putting weight on, no matter how small, is frustrating, annoying and downright shite. A supposedly good week ends in tatters, but deep down, I knew. I’ve been feeling flabby all week. I yearn to be like Simon and Garfunkel and feel groovy. Things came to a head munching Snack-A-Jacks in front of an episode of The Sweeney at 11 PM last night.
I stuffed seven cakes down my face with cheese, mayo, and salad cream. How could the scales possibly be kind to me this morning after that?
So, it was never going to end well. But I awoke after a cracking night’s sleep full of hope and optimism. Then it was crunch time—get on those bloody scales.
“Come gather ’round people,” Bob Dylan once said. Here’s the tragic tale of my latest battle with the most evil foe: The Scale. Yes, that cold, unblinking device sitting smugly in the corner of my bathroom. You know the one—the one you only visit when you’re feeling brave or reckless. The scale is becoming an arch-enemy as I battle the demons of weight loss. Of course, when it goes well, it’s your best friend.
Putting Weight On
The Week Broken Down
Day 1: The Confidence
There I was, with my fitness tracker, meal prep, and sparkling water in hand. I was ready to crush this whole “healthy lifestyle” thing, counting calories like a human calculator. I felt virtuous for swapping crisps for carrots (which should have a disclaimer: “These will never satisfy you”). There were no snacks unaccounted for. I was a model of discipline. I was determined to carry on the good work set up last week. So how’s it all gone so wrong???
Day 2-6: The Grind
Each day, I danced with temptation and said “No” to doughnuts, “No” to chocolate, and “No” to that extra bite of pasta taunting me from the pot. Victory was mine! Or so I thought. I imagined my transformation montage like in a cheesy movie, where I’d end up with a six-pack, just in time for the weekend.
Only I was not strictly honest with calories. I got into the habit of throwing biscuits into my daily healthy yoghurt mix. I’ve been eating late at night every single night. It takes its toll. And I think this is critical; I’ve been stuffing Ultra-Processed foods (UPF) down my neck like there’s no tomorrow, even though I know I shouldn’t.
Day 7: The Reckoning
It was the moment of truth. It was time to step on the scale and let the numbers reveal the success of my week-long journey of keeping my calories intact. Yeah, I’d gone over a few days, but I’ve done enough to lose a little… I took a deep breath, stepped on the scale, and waited for my triumph to display.
Cue dramatic music.
I looked down, blinked and rubbed my eyes. I then rubbed them again for good measure. The scale betrayed me! The numbers had… gone up. By 0.2 kilos. WHAT?! Surely, they’re wrong. We always argue that the scales are broken when we don’t like what they tell us.
How. On. Earth. I had counted calories all week. I’d gone slightly over a few days, but that’s normal. And yet, the scale had the nerve to show me 0.2 kilos more. Bastard! I hate you! I even refrained from alcohol AGAIN! That’s three weeks dry now… three weeks, and I’ve barely lost a thing! It’s enough to drive you to drink! (Spoiler…it did!)
Putting Weight On
The Breakdown
I’d love to tell you that I handled this revelation gracefully. That I sighed, shrugged, and moved on. But no. I went through all five stages of grief in about 30 seconds. First, denial: “That scale must be broken! It’s lying. There’s no way!” Then, anger: “I did everything right! WHY ME?!” Bargaining: “Maybe if I step off and on again, it’ll change? Just one more time.” Depression: “What’s the point of even trying? I’m just destined to live a life of eternal fatness” Acceptance: “Maybe it’s muscle weight… yeah, let’s go with that.”
When you’ve been stuck in limbo for months, your mind constantly plays dirty tricks. You don’t know what to believe.
The Investigation
Determined to get to the bottom of this mystery, I retraced my steps. Was it that “just one” extra unaccounted for helping of peanut butter? (Google says they’re calorie bombs in disguise.) Or maybe eating low-calorie but highly processed Snack-A-Jack cakes which somehow morphed into a second dinner? Who knew you could consume almost an entire day’s calories in one sitting in front of the telly?
I’m blaming the extra UPFs I’ve snuck into the diet for convenience. Dinner the last two days consisted of a pasty (on offer in Tesco; I fell for it!). Biscuits in yoghurt are not helping. I’m in the habit of consuming all sorts of instant noodles almost every day. My Snack-A-Jack intake has increased significantly. All mounts up. I may not have many calories, but my food has been rubbish—the four scotch eggs over the weekend, should I go on? I didn’t get a day off work, but that’s no excuse.
And water! Could it have been the extra water retention? After all, 0.2 kilos could be the equivalent of a large glass of water, right? RIGHT?! (Please validate me.)
The Epiphany
After my investigation concluded, I realized something profound: the body is weird. It does its own thing, sometimes for no reason at all. Sometimes, you eat salad and gain weight; other times, you consume pizza and lose it. It’s like your body is playing a weird, practical joke. And that 0.2 kilos? It could be anything! Water, muscle, a cosmic joke from the universe. Who knows?
I’ll admit I’ve not been weighing myself properly recently as desperation takes control. Last week, I moved the scales and got a slightly better reading (the first reading was 119.4 Kg). I was fuming more than Vladimir Putin on a bad day that I hadn’t lost more as I’d been terrific to the point I didn’t even eat late Friday. And for what??? A half-kilogram loss? I wasn’t having that!
The Moral of the Story
Here’s the thing. Yes, 0.2 kilos showed up uninvited. I cursed the scale and my life choices for a solid hour. But you know what? It’s 0.2 kilos. Not a life sentence. The important thing is I’m still moving forward, even if the scale is a little cranky sometimes. And next time it pulls this nonsense, I’ll be ready. (And by “ready,” I mean I’ll probably still overreact and blame my peanut butter obsession.)
Weigh yourself in the same place, at the same time EVERY week and take what comes your way. Weight fluctuates. Even if you don’t like the results, analyse what you’ve done and where you can improve.
So, to all my fellow calorie counters, scale watchers, and fitness warriors out there, keep going. Laugh at the small stuff, cry if you need to, but remember—there’s always next week. And also, never trust a scale after a big glass of water.
Conclusion
The Week Ahead
A disappointing week always feels like a comedown, especially after you think you’ve got back on track. The scales can be evil, changing your mood in a heartbeat. But they’re there for a reason, and weight gain is inevitable without using them.
Undoubtedly, too much UPF has been consumed. I’ve not been honest enough with the calories, and it’s just been one of those weeks. I’m frustrated that the weight is not shifting, and the process has halted. Almost a year into this, I expected to have lost more by now.
I either keep going or give up altogether. Sure, a small weight gain is an unwanted setback, especially when you think you’ve been good all week, but I’m determined to keep going and find some success next week. A small weight gain is NOT THE END OF THE WORLD!
I need to go back to basics again and try and eat cleaner. All this UPF is making me frumpy!
In the meantime, my biggest deliberation today is whether or not to get sauced and forget my woes—that is the question!
