However...I think I'm back down to 248 or so today, and hopefully still coming down.
This is really embarrassing but I feel like I need to defend myself for getting back over 250 pounds.
I think I was full...of...poop. There, I said it.
My stomach hurt for a couple days, and I was feeling really, really bloated by Monday night. I realized that I hadn't been going to the restroom like my usual, "regular" self (if you know what I mean). So I tried to figure out what was going on, and I remembered that my girlfriend had brought home a box of Fiber One Chocolate Chip Brownies the week before, and I LOVED them. They're only 2 Points each! Amazing!
They're great for breakfast! And they're great with 1 Point worth of whipped cream on top!
And I loved them SO MUCH that I ate two the first night she brought them home.
Then I ate two more the next day.
Then I finished the box. She bought two more boxes...
And then I ate four Fiber One bars in one day.
I mean, that's only eight Points...but that's a LOT of Fiber One bars! Too much of anything is bad, fiber included. Since my regular diet is already pretty high in fiber, I'm afraid I caused some kind of blockage.
See? Embarrassing.
Tuesday night I decided to try an Epsom salt laxative. I mixed two teaspoons of Epsom salt into a cup of water with lemon juice and gulped it down. It was totally gross. Then I waited...and waited...and nothing happened. Seriously. I've never taken a laxative in my life so I didn't know what to expect, but after a few hours I started looking online for people saying Epsom salt didn't work for them. Turns out, if it doesn't work, your colon is probably completely stopped up and you require surgery. I was then 100% convinced that I was suffering from severe fecal impaction and I was going to die. I did NOT want to die from SHIT!
But I didn't want to deal with going to the hospital and missing work (especially after being sick and missing work last week) so I just hoped the Epsom salt would work its magic overnight.
Nope.
By the time I weighed in at Weight Watchers on Wednesday, I felt like a blimp had been inflated inside my abdomen. It was awful. So I was not surprised at all that I had gained weight. (Well, I'd also been watching my weight like a hawk on my stupid scale ever day...stupid fucking scale.)
Wednesday night, my girlfriend brought me home some Milk of Magnesia. I downed four tablespoons and waited. I made dinner and, while it was cooking, I stretched out and poked and prodded at my stomach. I was able to feel my hips and ribs and possibly some organs, which was nice after shedding my 50 pound layer of fat. When dinner was ready, I got about three quarters of the way through eating when I finally jumped up and ran to the bathroom.
I weighed myself afterwards and I was down to 249 pounds again. Whew! Tonight, I'm at 248. I think I could still use a little, erm, "cleaning out"...but at least I don't feel like such a big bloated lump anymore.
I haven't walked for a few days, and my hopes of making it through the 100 Mile March have pretty much vanished. I do want to see how far I can get, though. The treadmill is calling my name. Well, more like whispering, but I'll take it.
And I'll try to hold back on the Fiber One bars.
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