I gained.

I gained 2.3 pounds. For several reasons, and I will explain one of them here. I woke up Saturday morning, after doing pretty well all week, and I was under 200. Yay! What better way to celebrate than going to FOUR wineries with my cousins and Aunt and Uncle, followed by a bbq? Well, the next day, I was like five pounds heavier. Shocking.

Am I upset? Eh. It happens. If I was to weigh in today, it would have only been a .3 pound gain. I seem to have magically lost two of the pounds already. Sometimes, I can literally gain and lose several pounds in one day. Am I mad? Eh. It happens. What are you going to do?

I'm choosing not to be upset or mad or frustrated. I'm choosing to still feel proud. I lost weight for 8 consecutive weeks, and that feels like a giant success to me. In fact, maybe it was about time I gained some weight. I'm not perfect, I'm not going to weigh 160 by the time I'm 30, and I am perfectly ok with that. Because it's progress. It happens, and there is no point in getting mad. Will I have a better week? Of course. I actually went to the gym three times last week, so I will repeat that. I am still doing well, day to day. There's no point in kicking myself.

I don't want to yell at myself. Overall, I'm still down. I wouldn't even say I've fallen off of the wagon or anything like that. I don't know. I'm sure some people would be really mad, but I'm too relaxed to be mad. What's the point? I'll just try to do better, it's that simple. :)

Oh, and Happy Anniversary Mac. I love you. I'm grateful you loved me at 140, 180 and 220, and now. I'm so thankful for your support, and I'm happy you never yell at me. I'm so lucky to have someone who loves me at all my sizes, my ups and downs, and yet still, encourages me to live a healthier life, so we can be around for many, many years together. I love you for all that, and so much more.