Well, maybe you aren't. But I know I surely am.
It's inevitable, I suppose. It's that all of the things that make me up as quirky or odd have also manifested themselves in my weight loss journey. And that's not a bad thing.
When I first started, I absolutely hated, hated, hated the idea of drinking water. Water? Brr and blech, at the same time. Cold and bland was not going to cut it, and keep in mind that I started in January. In New England. Ice was not going to be in my vocabulary unless I was slipping on it in front of my neighbor's driveway.
So I changed it up, and realized that the water did not have to be barely warm enough to be liquid for it to provide me with a benefit. Now, it's not absolutely, positively 100% ultra stupendously perfect. It would be, I suppose, if it were cold as anything, and not have a decaf tea bag dunked in it, or sweetener thrown in it, or a flavor stick dissolved in it. Yes, if it were frigid and bland, I might -- just might, if I was really good and lucky and the stars and planets were all properly aligned -- lose .0000000000001% more weight than the way I have it, which is either boiling or close to it, with one or more of the aforesaid flavor options going on.
But I don't care. It doesn't matter. The flavor sticks, the steam, the sweetener, they make it possible for me to drink the water. Take them away and virtually no water is drunk. So which is worse? A flavor stick and a higher temperature, or no water? Gee, whaddaya think?
Same with the bottle or cup. For me it's about ritual. It's not exactly a Japanese tea service, but I like having my mugs. My bottles. My little sticks all lined up and ready to go. My tea bags. I sound like I've got OCD, but it helps me to remember -- drink four of these and the daily water requirements are done.
Walking isn't always easy to fit in. So I get off two stops earlier and, get this! I don't even count it. It's just serendipity. I pretend to myself that the bus broke down or it was going express and that was the closest I could get to my home. In the meantime, I still walk.
And then there's sweets. On my page it says that a part of my plan is lying to myself about why chocolate is evil. Well, of course chocolate isn't evil. Morality doesn't enter into it. There may be less than pure morals on the part of manufacturers of foods that are not so good for us. Yeah, I'll buy that. But food? Once it's ready for the table (unless you eat exceptionally fresh -- e. g. still swimming -- sushi), it has no consciousness, no mind. But I tell myself a little story anyway. And the story goes something like this. I don't eat red meat or pork. This has been true since age 13 for red meat and since age 0 for pork. So far, so good. Hence I tell myself, when something looks particularly tempting, that it's made from lard. Look, beef-flavored cookies! Wow, how'd they put a whole ham inside a cheesecake? Amazing how it says french fries, and they seem to be made with potatoes, but didja know they're really made up of pork? That pie is really a cleverly disguised burger, dontcha know.
I push foods away from me, if I have to sit at a table with them. Sure, I can reach a foot or so, but I don't. Eh, it's too much effort. Those tortilla chips are SO far away. They could be on Mars for all I know. I cannot bring myself to make the effort to grab one. Or a dozen.
Like my friend said to me when talking about the side effects I can get from taking alli: People Need to Get Over it. And he's right. Long as I do what I'm doing, the ick factor is minimized. And I'm not going to let it stand in the way of me taking the help I need, and getting this done. I'm not going to put squeamishness ahead of my health. I'll barrel through, and get over it, and set my mind onto it in whatever way I can spin it so that I make sure to do it. That's another thing I do because it needs to be done.
So, yeah, I'm a little nuts. But the gist of it all is that I do these little things, and I follow these little rituals, and they help me to get where I need to be. And, don't be so quick to laugh -- I bet you've got a few of these, too. A special mug. The right pair of shorts. The perfect go-to recipe for just when it looks like you won't have time to do much of anything other than dive headfirst into a gallon of Rocky Road.
Whatever you need.
Whatever it takes.
Even if we all look a lil weird while doing so.