One day at a time

I know I have probably gained weight this week. My wild and crazy eating over the last week has no doubt put a stop to the weight loss. I missed four work outs because I was out of town. I spent no time thinking about what to eat and just dove right in whenever food was around. I did not overeat quantity but I certainly made the worst choices. I had donuts-and I don't even like donuts. I had fried food. I had lots of bread. Yesterday I ate French macaroons.
Why? Because the food was there, I was hungry and there weren't many other options. Before each eating opportunity I thought of the consequences and ate anyway. In spite of having my daughter proclaim, "You look so tiny!"-I ate.
I think I'm exhausted from being on guard all the time. From monitoring everything that goes into my mouth. From planning and thinking about food but not in ways that I enjoy thinking about food. I've spent the last two months thinking about how fattening food is and not how wonderful it will be to eat it. Yet there have been lots of pleasurable eating experiences-and all from eating the "right" foods.
Getting back on track-which means making better choices-is going to be difficult. Especially because we are leaving in a few days for our summer vacation. And all I have been thinking about is where we will eat. I've spent hours perusing menus online preparing myself. Not for choosing healthy options. No. For choosing what I want with little or no attention paid to whether the meals fit into the plan or not.
The days when I felt that I had licked this-that I was going to be successful because I was finally in control-are gone. Losing weight and maintaining it is one of those "one day at a time" deals. Fall off the diet, get up and try again. It's just that each time I've fallen off it's been harder to get up and start again.
I would be devastated if I gained back the weight-gained it back before I really got to enjoy the flatter belly and thinner waist. I haven't worn all my old clothes yet. The ones I've been saving for years. Stroking the fabric, dreaming of the time when I could button, zip and breathe in them.
Today's a new day. Other people have done this. I can do this. I will do it.
I will not dream of dancing bowls of ice cream covered in hot fudge tonight. I will instead dream of dueling broccoli spears and chicken breasts lounging on a bed of brown rice.