Way of the Weight Watchers Warrior

A friend of mine sent me a book about a month ago that - to be completely honest - I really didn't want to read.  It looked stupid.  Cheesy.  It was one of those novels: made into a movie, reprinted as a novel... and from the cover, though I know I'm not supposed to judge, it looked downright corny.  "Way of the Peaceful Warrior: A Book That Changes Lives."  It seemed to be Rocky Balboa without the inspirational music.  It looked like the Karate Kid without the swinging kicks.  But last week, in a pit of desperation, and missing the friend who sent it to me, I picked it up.

And I'm really, really glad I did.

First off, it seems as though a lot more thought was put into this initially disappointing gift than I thought.  It takes place in Berkeley, one of my parent cities, the main character is a junior in college, as am I, and the novel accounts his battle out of common illusion and into his life.  "I never suspected that I would have to learn how to live," Dan Millman, the author and main character writes in the preface, "that there were specific disciplines and ways of seeing the world I had to master before I could awaken to a simple, happy, uncomplicated life."  Every morning for at least a half an hour, I follow him through this journey.

This week's Weight Watchers meeting topic was on perseverance.  It was EXACTLY what I needed, having slipped, skidded, gotten up, brushed myself off, and kept running so many times over the past five months that I've lost count.  My leader assured the filled meeting room it happens to all of us.  The important thing, she told us, was not letting the slip become a slide.  Getting back up.  Keeping at it.

Before the meeting, when I weighed in (at 169.8, by the way, since I'm being disclosed and unashamed), I had the receptionist reset everything.  "As if I'm a new member," I said to her.  She zeroed out the scale.  We set new interim goals together.  5%.  10%.  Goal stays the same, at 140.  And I'm 5'5" for those of you keeping score at home.  Next to my weight record, she took a pen and wrote "fresh start" in the notes column.  Sunday's meeting had all the tools I needed to make this week for work me.

"We are Weight Watchers Warriors," my leader said.  And later, "anything is better than throwing in the towel."

I'm not going to get cocky yet since it's only day six - and it's been really hard - and as Millman, "Socrates" (the Buddha character in the book), and the past five months have taught me, it only takes a pebble to derail you, but I've been wearing my armor and staying on track like it's no one's business.  I still have the towel.  I've been in freaking battle, man.  This whole week.

So far, I've:

My mom sent me THE BEST card yesterday:
"Hey! You're a 'We Can Do It' kind of gal!!"

-Overcome the one day hump, the two day hump, the three day hump, the four day hump, and the five day hump.  This sixth day is long-time uncharted territory and I'm feeling pretty good!

-Worked out three days in a row (strength training, 3 mile run, 4.2 mile run) and allowed myself a day of rest, though I still had dance class, and am actually hoping for time to exercise today,

-Stayed up late without fourth meal,

-Cohabitated with a box of free pastries on my kitchen table for over 24 hours and didn't touch one,

-Received an email capable of unleashing some serious emotional eating,

-Avoided notedly "delicious," "amazing" cupcakes at work,

-Cut countless, super strong cravings,

-Indulged ON PLAN (with a vagina cookie, by the way), and

-Started to look forward to my weigh-in for the first time in months!

There is no other way to explain it.  I am a warrior.  I am resilient and strong.  I am determined and forth-right.  I endure.  I persevere.  My armor is tough.  And I may put it down for a few hours, days, weeks (...months), but I will never throw that towel in.

It is a process, Millman reminds us, learning the real work it takes to enter into and practice a "simple, happy, uncomplicated life."  Often we make things crazy for ourselves, like inserting seemingly blissful entropy into our diets and our routines.  I'm doing my best to keep it in order: an apple (94) here, a mile (54) there, but from time to time, things will indeed get complicated.  And it's up to me to, if I fall, get back up and keep at it.  Persevere.  Because I am a Weight Watcher Warrior.  I will not give up.