Tomorrow is the big day. It’s the day I’ve been waiting for since embarking on this whole weight-loss journey. Tomorrow, I go to my annual doctor’s appointment and get weighed.

I’m nervous about this visit, not just because I’ve been anticipating it for so long, but also because the timing is kind of crummy. I just came back from a weeklong vacation at the coast, and even though I tried to schedule the appointment before I left (with the idea that I would be able to lie around and pig out for a week without any huge consequence), I had no such luck.

Because of that, I had to ignore the desire to throw caution to the wind and remain committed to my goal. Let me tell you, it was not easy. The biggest challenge was food. If you’ve been reading my blog entries online, you’ll know that my family doesn’t mess around when it comes to eating.

We took four vehicles to the coast, and I’d wager that three of those were full of food. And not just sandwich stuff, either (although we had that, too). I’m talking about good food.

One of my aunts made a turkey and grilled fish; another made baked macaroni and cheese. I made this spicy shrimp and rice dish, and there was an abundance of homemade salsa and guacamole. But my dad shamed us all. He made brisket, sausage, ribs, chicken, beans, pecan pie and peach cobbler. It was actually kind of ridiculous. We had leftovers for the rest of the week.

You can see what I was up against.

I have to say, I was actually proud of my willpower. I ate everything, of course, but I kept my portions small. I didn’t go back for seconds. I kept repeating to myself, “This is not my last meal.

I will eat again.” Whoever posted that little mantra on my blog did me a big favor, because it really kept me in line.

And while I also drank every day, I didn’t overdo that, either. The alcohol only came out after dark. And all day long before that I was drinking water.

Another blessing was how easy my family made it for me to be active. Besides regular beach activity — boogie boarding, playing soccer, swimming — a few of us went for walks nearly every day. The long walks were about five miles round trip. So, that’s not only excellent exercise, but also good practice for the half marathon in November.

So, all in all, I had a good vacation and kept up with my good habits at the same time. The moment of truth came, however, when I got home and stepped on the scale to see the damage.

I was making contingency plans in my head — I’d fast until my doctor’s appointment if things had gone horribly wrong (which, if we’re being honest, probably wouldn’t happen at all), or I’d only eat fruit and drink water, or I’d work out for two hours every night, etc.

Happily, none of that is necessary. I weigh exactly the same as before I left. This week taught me how strong I am, and that I am capable of seeing this thing through, no matter what the temptations are.

I’ll take maintaining over gaining any day. And even though I haven’t lost as much as I would have liked by this point in the process, I’ll still walk into my doctor’s office with a hint of a tan and my head held high.