Last week I faced a crisis. It had been two weeks since I last attended a Weight Watcher meeting, and in that 14 days I had managed to make poor food choices, stress out over work situations, be physically exhausted and also gain 6 pounds.

The prospect of going back to a meeting and admitting defeat was enough to send me back to the arms of my faithful friends (little Debbie, Sara Lee, and of course Ben and Jerry!) Looking for comfort in food goes back a long way with me.

I come from a southern family. If you are from the south, you know that the Pillsbury people were right in” that nothing says lovin, like something from the oven! ” Have another biscuit is the southern equivalent to saying, “I love you!” Have some pecan pie is southern for “You are so precious and sweet .”

I come from a southern “church” background. Which means fried chicken, potatoes and gravy, green beans cooked with fatback, corn on the cob (dripping with butter), biscuits, and of course apple pie every Sunday, (unless there is a covered dish dinner after church which is even more good eating!) Southern religious folks don’t drink, cuss, smoke, or sleep around…..We just over medicate ourselves with food until we slip into unconsciousness (also known as the Sunday afternoon nap!)

The prospects of going back to a perky, peppy Chirpy was enough to make me want to throw in the towel right then and there. The weigh-in, the scale lady, and my “support” friends asking, ” How did you do?” was daunting. (However, I’m much more afraid of Leanne, Shelli, and CrazyMomCat than I am of them!)

I started my “do-over” on Monday morning knowing I had to weigh in on Thursday evening. On Thursday evening when I weighed I was up by 2 tenths of a pound which was met with a frown. Scale lady must have thought I’d had a stroke or no longer understood English as I began my “happy dance” right there at the scale. To her it was a gain…..to me it was a huge loss from the self-inflicted wound I had given myself.

The meeting was about our former eating patterns and gold plastic medals on a red, white and blue ribbon were given out for confessions of the most chocolate consumed at one time, the most hot dogs eaten, the most popcorn etc. I listen, I clapped, I cheered, and inwardly I laughed…..These people were such amateurs. So I walked away knowing that I could have blown away all my competitors by my former eating habits. I walked away knowing that I was an Olympian Eater of champion proportions and I had the figure to prove it!

I also walked away from my old lifestyle, and my old poor choices. I had been unusually quiet during the meeting and I waited till most people had left to approach the Chirpster. I asked her if I could have a medal too. She looked a bit surprised and asked “what for?” I surprised her even more by saying, “Because I came back to Weight Watchers when I could have easily just left.”

So I have a plastic gold medal hanging on my bulletin board right now as I write this entry. It’s a reminder that I can make good choices and I will succeed.