Halloween & Other Speedbumps

So, I had these grandiose visions of jumping right back into my old "Healthy foods are great!  I love eating vegetables!  Yucko to french fries and grease!  Bring on the fiber and protein!" habits.  After posting last week and being all gung-ho about it mentally, the real world reminded me that it is not as smooth of a transition as I am able to portray it to be.

I seem to have set myself up for the ultimate weight-loss challenge:  cold weather, which always equals an insatiable desire for comfort foods like chicken pot pie, apple cobbler, and hearty chili; Halloween, also known as "The holiday that gives child-less adults a valid reason for stocking their pantries full of candy" (and by candy, I mean chocolate, of course); followed by Thanksgiving (no explanation or clarification necessary); and Christmas.  Christmas... in all of its sugar-cookied, frosted, candied, hot chocolated, goodness.  There isn't a whole lot of wiggle room there for creative points-counting or turning perfectly amazing recipes into something more Weight-Watchers-friendly and still delicious.  And who I am trying to kid?  Sugar cookies made from Splenda are edible, yes.  Crave-worthy with a glass of ice, cold milk?  No.  No, they are not.  Plus, Splenda doesn't quite have that crystal-like consistency that makes decorating them half the fun.

But, don't get me wrong.  I'm not the kind of girl who will suffer through the holidays munching on celery sticks and carrots all reindeer-style while those around me are bringing the figgy pudding and roasting chestnuts on an open fire, simply to avoid gaining an ounce (or pound... or ton) or two.  But, last year, I had clearly established a trend of healthy eating long before the weather changed.  I'd set myself up well for the potential of putting on a few pounds.  This year, however, I not only need to lose the six pounds that I've re-gained (I need to name these six pounds... something ugly.), but start a trend of losing the pounds that I had already ear-marked for eviction before my relapse.

I'm talking a big game too.  To listen to me, you'd think I've been a professional trainer myself for years.  "Weight training, when paired with cardio exercise, will help you burn calories long after you've finished exercising and will make you stronger for future routines," I spouted off yesterday, like I was some kind of bodybuilding authoritarian.  Feel free to go back and read that quote in your snarkiest inner-monologue.  I deserve it. I need someone to stand next to me in these self-righteous moments and remind me that I'm the kid who failed the President's Challenge in third grade.  And by failed it, I mean it took me like three times as long as anyone else in the third grade to run the mile.  Clarification:  walk the mile.  No certificate for this chickadee.  Only looks of shock and disgust from your stereotypical, mid-1980's, elementary school PE teachers.  I'm sure the President was not amused either.  Anyway.  If I can't walk the walk (literally and figuratively), I shouldn't be talking the talk.

I'm scheduled to go to the gym tonight and meet my trainer for the first time in two weeks.  This will happen.  Beyond a shadow of a doubt.  And I intend to tell him to kick my butt up one side of that gym and down the other.  I've been slacking because I've been sick and trying desperately to rest and recover.  But, it seems that the only resting I've been doing is not attending my sessions at the gym.  Life has rolled on at its usual chaotic pace in all other aspects with me right there, sniffling and coughing the whole time, going gangbusters without missing a beat.  So, why, why can't I get back in the groove?  It takes two weeks to establish a habit, or so I've been told.  What can I do over the course of the next two weeks to motivate myself to get off my behind and go spend an hour in the gym instead of in front of the television?

I've got my Goal Dresses hanging in plain view in my bedroom to remind me of that reward come November 22, but I've lost that inner-determination and honest desire to go to the gym.  I used to look forward to it, crave it, want to go, even miss it on days that I didn't get there.  Now, it's like "Eh..."  Maybe if I'm able to get the train moving in the right direction again, I'll feel inspired by success and find that inner-gym-rat who, not so long ago, was disgusting people with my incessant Facebook check-ins at LA Fitness.

What have you done to get over the plateau, friends?  What methods have you used to trick yourself into motivation?