The trials and triumphs of a Weight Watcher

I have been doing Weight Watchers for several months now, having eaten my way through trimesters two and three of pregnancy with the abandon of an eating competitor in training for the international finals.  I have had my ups and downs, but this week, the day before weigh in, I found myself just 1.5 lbs short of my goal.  The significance of the goal is not so much that I think that is my perfect stopping place (I actually intend to lose another 10lb) but that I can go for free once I get there.

So there I was, near but oh-so-far.  I can’t make the meeting for the next three weeks, and I am blown if I was going to waste all that cash.  Drastic and unadvised measures were called for.  I vowed that no food should pass my lips until I stepped upon those fateful scales to be crowned “Gold Member.”  And that is what happened, and although I am pleased (21 lb  of wobbly unsightly fat gone, gone, GONE!),  I also feel that I perhaps cheated slightly.  And needless to say, I got home, ate four pieces of buttered toast and haven’t stopped scoffing since.

At least I can crawl back and rectify the situation for free.

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