I started South Beach in 2006. I reached my goal weight in July 2008, then I lost some more. My lowest ever was 136.2 in August 2010. My all-time new goal is to be 135, though I'm not sure I'll be able to make that happen. But I can definitely say I felt my best in the 130s, and I'd like to get there again.
One of the veterans once said maintaining is far harder than losing. At the time, I thought that was crazy. What could be better, I thought, than getting to your goal and knowing you made it? But 2.5 years after hitting goal, I understand why it's harder: Without that ever-decreasing number on the scale, you have to find another source of motivation.
When I was in the "losing" phase, I was an absolute, hardcore strict eater. I wouldn't even eat a bite of anything bad, most the time, and I was proud of myself because of it. Everyone was amazed by my willpower. Lately, my portion sizes have been creeping up. We've been eating out at nicer restaurants more, and I've found myself tempted by the desserts. I've also been drinking more wine, though I'm trying to limit myself to weekends. The worst missteps have come during some recent cruises. Every time, I vow that I won't make it all about food. Every time, I do. By the end of the cruise, I'm eating four meals a day and stuffing my face even when I'm full. Yes, I do work out twice a day on cruises, but it doesn't even make a dent, considering the processed food I'm chowing down on. And the whole time, I'm in agony, with the warring forces of food addiction vs. shame and self-loathing in my head. I came back from the last cruise in February up 10 POUNDS, and unlike in the past, it hasn't just fallen off with some Phase 1 eating. I'm stuck, and all my clothes are tight, and I'm miserable.
Besides being hopelessly addicted to food, I've become addicted to exercise. I'm now training for a half-marathon, which is great, and I'm up to running almost 8 miles straight (a few years ago, I started Couch to 5K and couldn't run for more than a minute at a time). But I work out every single day, and I feel guilty if I don't. It got to the point where I was sometimes doing cardio twice a day. I recently got a trainer and she's instructed me to STOP doing so much cardio because she said I'm telling my body it needs to keep up that pace for the rest of my life. So I'm incorporating more weight training and trying to force myself to take a day off every week. But psychologically, it's difficult.
I think I'm going to go back and reread the SB book, because I know what I'm doing isn't great. But any suggestions someone has for injecting some new life into my eating habits would be much appreciated.
B: 1/4 cup Egg Beaters mixed with spinach, diced tomatoes and a wedge of laughing cow cheese
L: Huge salad (probably too big, honestly) with a few tsp cheese, green pepper, tomato, cucumbers, chick peas and red wine vinegar or garlic/olive oil dressing
S: 1.5 tbps natural PB with celery sticks
D: Far too huge portions of SB friendly food, like meatloaf out of the SB cookbook, fish, small "cheeseburgers" on lettuce leaves made with extra lean ground sirloin. I'll end up eating a giant salad alongside it or a whole bag of steamed veggies with ICBINB spray and too much salt. I usually leave the table stuffed and I can't seem to stop myself once I get started. Once in awhile, I'll have oatmeal for dinner. I like to sautee swiss chard or spinach in a tiny bit of olive oil with tomatoes and onions and mushrooms, but then I still eat too much of it.
S: Sometimes a SF Jello pudding or mousse with Lite Cool Whip, sometimes anywhere from 1-4 cups of SF Jello gelatin with Lite CW...ugh. Sometimes will mix CW with a NSA fudgsicle.
I had to stop going places like Big Boy or Ruby Tuesday because I love salad but I also love ranch dressing and croutons ... and I'd end up eating FOUR big salads. Kinda funny that SALADS have become my addiction.
I rarely eat fruit. I rarely eat grains.
I know. I know.
My biggest nightmare is waking up and realizing I'm 230 pounds again. Every day that my clothes are snug, I'm full of self-loathing, remembering how I got down to the 130s and how wonderful I felt.