DISCLAIMER: This post is not intended to make anyone feel worse or better about themselves. This post is not designed for sympathy or kind words. This post is just another mind explosion, courtesy of me. In other words, it’s all about me.
Yep. We’re back to the weight thing. SO…..If you read my post last night, you know my bag of potatoes finally got me to get off my butt and on the treadmill. I even poured out the last bit of my beer to start exercising. I worked out and felt great, so why not celebrate the greatness with a nice shower? Well, upon exiting the shower, I stepped out and stared myself down in the mirror. NOW……I had no choice, it’s right there across from the shower. What a wicked place to put such an object? AND….Of course, I was naked. I stopped taking showers in my clothes when I got out of college and sobered up. So anyway, I’m glaring at the temple that God gave me and realized that I totally trashed it, because I certainly wasn’t born with what appeared to be two flesh covered arm floats sitting on the tops of my thighs. The tattooed “cartoon” faces of my kids even looked obese. It was so depressing, I decided to get my vibrator, but it took one look at me and decided it had a headache. I went to the dresser to get some clothes to cover up and I heard it say: “We have nothing in your size.” and then giggles.
So that’s it. I vow now to start eating better and exercising. This may sound like an odd way to start, criticizing myself and making jokes, but that’s how I motivate myself. Compliments and “what sounds like” patronizing encouragement does not work with me. In fact, it makes me want to eat more and watch t.v. all day. I light a fire under my ass by giving myself some tough love. Now……That’s not to say anyone else can do that. Don’t go calling me a fat ass, because only I can do that.
Do I know there are people out there that weigh more than me, yes. The point is: there is always someone in the world with less or more than what we have, whether it’s weight, looks, talent, brains, athletic ability, blah, blah, blah……………………….Who cares? I’m not trying to compare myself to anyone else and use it as an excuse to not be a better me.
The day I went into labor with my second child I weighed 164 pounds. I weigh the same today, if my scale is correct. So aside from the distribution being different, I’m ready to pop and waiting for my water to break. (Oh wait! It’s just pee trying to escape its suffocating surroundings). When I met my hubby a bit over 8 years ago, I weighed 130, which I held quite nicely for 4 years. We then met these (certifiable crazy..no kidding) “festive” friends and we went crazy. We got together several times a week (more in the summer). We stayed up late, drank a lot of high calorie alcohol and ate a lot of cheesy, meaty crap. I was always too tired to exercise. I gained 27 pounds in two years from that lifestyle. I still have another 7 pounds of baby weight to lose on top of that.
So I’m putting my goal out in the world to put pressure on myself, because that’s how I work. Get back down in size: between 135 – 140. I’ll give myself some cushion, since I’m getting older. AND…..Hopefully, the next time I do that test where you put the pencil under your ass cheek (if it holds you need to firm up your backside), I won’t need to use a rolling-pin instead.