Last week I reiterated my theory on how a successful weight loss plan is under the complete control of The Switch and that you have absolutely no say over The Switch’s position. In spite of that, fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on your point of view) flipping The Switch on can be greatly influenced upon finding yourself stricken by some life-altering event such as diabetes or suddenly having to buy yourself an entire row of airline seats when traveling. Once that happens, you find it much easier to spring into action, and thus the illusion of control is created. But who cares if it’s an illusion if it’s working, right?

I’ve had this happen to me several times over the last couple decades and each time it’s always led to a period of spectacular weight-loss. What a great story this would be if it ended there, but as we all know, once I meet my goal and stay there for a few months, weeks, or even hours, it’s immediately followed by a period of spectacular gain-it-all-back.

The last nine months or so have been a bit difficult. While I’ve hoped The Switch would flip itself on several times, I’ve instead found myself flipping it off in anger and disgust. That said, I have a feeling—and it’s just a feeling, mind you—that I might have fixed that this past weekend. And unlike other times, it wasn’t just one thing that got me. Here’s a list:

• I’m all out of clothes.
• My back is starting to hurt (again)
• My knees are starting to hurt (for the first time)
• I can’t walk two flights of stairs without feeling winded
• I got a blood sugar reading of 148 after losing a valiant battle against a bucket of buttered movie popcorn
• I’m back up to 39% body fat
• And more…

Funny enough, not a single one of those is enough to pull my hand out of the Cheez-Its box. And collectively they’re still probably not enough to flip The Switch. No, there’s one more thing I left off that list and it’s almost certainly the straw that broke the camel’s back. For the first that I can ever remember: the top part of my back is touching the lower part of my back. I can feel it when I walk around. I can feel it when I sit. I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all.

Hence: enough’s enough. Now, whether this truly turns into a flipped switch or not, only time will tell. But I’m keeping my fingers crossed.

So how about you? Feel free to leave any stories about what straw broke your own weight loss log jams. Feel free to mix metaphors.

If you’re new to my blog (and to be honest, I don’t know why you would be since my rabid fan base is made up of the same half dozen returning readers) then you already know all about The Switch. If by some great miracle you’re new here and about to become the seventh rabid fan of my blog, here’s a quick primer:

The Switch is a mysterious internal biological mechanism that determines whether you’re sticking to a plan or not. It can actually apply to anything in life: work, hobbies, etc., but I typically use it in the context of dieting. If The Switch is on, then you eat right, exercise, stick to your plan, bounce back immediately if birthday cake happens, and in general, the weight comes off. These are the times where it’s “easy” and you claim to have made that elusive “lifestyle change” and people flock to your blog with comments like, “YOU ROCK”, “I’VE BEEN INSPIRED”, and “I SO NEEDED THIS POST TODAY.”

On the other hand, if The Switch is off, then you’re doomed. You might start the day with the best of intentions but invariably you’ll end it in a bucket of ice cream. You’ll fall at the donuts Bob brought to work. You’ll collapse at the merest scent of pizza. Your “lifestyle change” was anything but and you realize that Sisyphus had it easy. In short, you’re doomed.

I’m following the exact same pattern as I did with Day One #99 back in April. I started off well. I had a great first week. I had a miserable first weekend, then completely fell apart after that. This can only mean one thing: The Switch is not on. And, as all you Cool Kids already know, The Switch isn’t something you can just turn on at will. It may turn on in response to something you do or experience, but you just can’t wake up and say, “It’s on today!”

Losing weight is easy. Weight loss is hard. The former simply requires expending more calories than you take in. There’s nothing “simply” about the latter. Unless, of course, The Switch is on. And that’s my problem: it just ain’t on right now.

But I’m not going to let a little thing like that stop me. After all, this boulder isn’t going to roll up the hill all by itself, whatever comes next.

Hey look, it’s me again. I didn’t actually intend to take this much time off. Like so many things in life, it just happened. May was . . . well, let’s just say May is behind us now and leave it at that. I may fill you in later, but what’s important now is I’m back.

One week ago, June 1, 2010, was a monumental day in my twenty-year career as a professional dieter: Day One #100. Yes, it was bound to happen sooner or later. This number, as some of you die-hard followers may already know, is derived by counting the number of rows in my Excel spreadsheet where the phrase “Day One” appears. I officially started counting out this number in public in this very old post. (Man, I forgot how ugly this site used to be).

It’s a funny number. In some ways I think, “Only one hundred? Sheesh! It feels like I’ve done this a thousand times.” But then I put my propeller hat back on and say, “Wait a minute, that’s one Day One every 2.4 months for twenty years. That’s flippin redonkulous.” I’m then reminded of the popular definition of insanity: “Doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.” (For some reason, the internet believes this is an Albert Einstein quote. I think I may submit that one to Mythbusters.)

So a week ago I said (for the 100th time) enough’s enough and decided to not eat something every five minutes of my waking hours (and every forty-five minutes while asleep). And, as usual, my body responded to this change.

At the end of week one, I’m down about three pounds. Now, this is where everyone posts a comment along the lines of, “Awesome!”, “Great job!”, “You Rock!” Before you do, though, take a moment and consider: this is how every Week One starts out. And given the fact that this is my one-hundredth Week One, I’m going to say that a good start like this is absolutely no indicator of long-term success. In fact, since I’m still wearing my propeller hat, I can go back, re-examine the data, and conclude that this type of performance is absolutely a predictor of failure. Maybe I need a Week One that ends in a ten pound gain? That would turn things around.

Also, as long as I’m still playing the part of Debbie Downer, I kinda screwed up over the weekend again. Although this is a three pound loss for the week, I was also down three pounds after the first two days. In fact, I was down four pounds after four days. Then the weekend hit and I went up another pound and a half. If anything that’s a predictor of long-term failure.

But, I’ll stick at it. I have my reasons . . . not the least of which is simply because I’m insane. Albert Einstein told me so.

Well, it was fun while it lasted. I tell you, that first week everything fell right into place. I ate reasonable amounts of food, I didn’t feel hungry, I wrote everything down in The Daily Plate again. It was just like the old days. Now of course I had no real delusions that it would last for ever. But on the other hand (besides five more fingers) I had a very real delusion that it would last longer than a week.

So let’s just get the damage out of the way now. Technically, yes, I realize I lost weight this week. Using my seven-day running average, I was down one tenth of one pound. On the upside, that still counts as a loss. On the downside, it means I’ll hit goal weight in 2072. On the upside, I didn’t eat eight pounds of Cheez-Its. On the downside I did eat about three quarters of a pound of Cheez-Its.

Not disastrous, but for now I’ll just call it “cautiously optimistic.”

And now for something completely different. On Sunday, I made the monumental mistake of going to Michaels Arts & Crafts. Why is this a bad idea? Because they have pens and pencils and paper, that’s why. And it’s hard for me to go in there and not buy out half that aisle. Thankfully, I made it out of there empty-handed. But I didn’t leave empty-headed: every trip makes me think of all the art projects I’m not taking part in.

Wait a minute. This sounds familiar. Didn’t I already do a post about this? Hang on…

Ah yes, here it is. Boy, reruns are bad enough, but now I’m just plagiarizing myself. If I’m not careful, I may end up suing myself. Of course, that might not be a bad thing. If I win that lawsuit, then maybe I just might be able to buy that pencil set I saw:

Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about…

All right, kids . . . looks like for the foreseeable future, Tuesday will be check-in day for me, just to satisfy the planet’s desire to keep track of my awesome progress (or lack thereof).

I probably won’t be as witty or verbose or graphic-heavy as I used to be, just in the interest of time. (My time, that is.) I know there a few fans of my weight loss graphs, and I will still post those from time to time.

My weight for any given week will be listed as the average of the previous seven days. This helps eliminate anomalous ups and downs and gives (what I believe is) a more accurate picture of how things are going.

My overall plan is to drop a pound a week for the first three hundred weeks, then move on to two pounds per week after that. Wait a minute. That doesn’t sound right. I meant, my plan is to drop ten pounds a week for fifty weeks, then one pound a week after that until . . . hold on. That doesn’t sound right either.

Oh wait, I know. I don’t have a plan. I’m just going to get back to the general plan of “stop eating all the time” and see how that goes. From the looks of the first week, I’d say it’s heading in the right direction. And like the last time I seriously kicked this off, the real goal is to protect my pancreas. I had a 131 reading at the end of the day, which is well out of my own personal safe range. Here’s to fixing that, among other things.