Oh Boy.
Oh fucking boy.
I am done......this is it. The FAT stops here.
I feel positively weighed down this morning. It literally feels as if I swallowed a brick and a bucket of cement. Topping off that lovely feeling is a mild case of cankles. In short I'm feeling pretty much like the world's biggest lard ass at the moment.
While I would very much like to blame all of the bloat, heaviness and general feeling of lackluster on the arrival of my period, I know better. It just ain't so.
The weekend may be somewhat to blame.
Yes, it was fun.....as a matter of fact, it was downright fat-tastic.
Indulgence is not a friend (incidentally, neither are mojitos) and no one knows that today better than I.
So, here I am again, in search of the willpower and strength I know I have in there somewhere (Hello in there? echo.....echo...echo) and I am begging it to show itself once and for all to help me help myself get healthy and get serious about what is going to happen to me if I don't.
Scary thought of the day.....
But putting that aside, the one thing I do know about beginning a new program is that you can't do it if you are all mopey and depressed so I decided yesterday that despite how I feel today physically, my mental set will reflect a much more positive attitude.
Granted, I understand if you are all sick of hearing me talk about falling off the wagon. It would appear that that's pretty much all I have been doing since May but you know what? Shit happens and I am here today to say I'm kicking those bad habits in the ass and I am ready to commit today to changing my body.
Again, with the many unflattering photos that were taken of me over the weekend, I have been agonizingly forced to see just how "not cute" I have become. Stay-Puff Marshmallow Man, move on over. Apparently there's a new bitch in town.
I'm back to square one - not necessarily weight wise (although too damn close for my liking since as of this AM, period bloat, weekend spree and all, I am back to {HEAVY sigh} 226 lbs) but my panic level is there. Is THIS now rock bottom? I don't really know. The only thing I DO know is that I feel like complete stuffed shit today (whatever that is) and there's really only one thing to do about it. Move My Ass.
Josh has decided not only to support me with my eating but has also made it clear that it is perfectly within his rights to become Sgt. Asshole with me regarding exercise and you know what? I need him to be.
I may not have to prove I can bounce quarters off of our tightly made bed complete with hospital corners, but I may have to chant things like, "I don't know what I been told.... Being fat makes me feel old! Sound off - one two!" while marching or perhaps doing one armed push ups. I say - Bring it!
I'm honestly Ok with this because I desperately need that push. An enabler is the last thing I want right now so by Josh being a little tough on me and forcing me to get out there and sweat my ass off is a good thing, no matter how much I despise it. And I DO despise sweating.
Habits take about a month to form so the goal is by the end of August, I will have developed some sort of doable, and dare I say enjoyable, routine. Because whether I like or not, this fall I will have to start trying on wedding dresses and I don't want it to be a tear-filled traumatic experience.
Tomorrow I am going to make a list of all of the things that I want to benefit from after losing the weight....(it's a long one) and list all things that are negative aspects of being the F-word (equally as long, I am sure).
But today, I'm just concentrating on getting started. Here we go again....
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