I ate Goldfish crackers. Not one, not one serving but an entire bag of Goldfish crackers. Granted they were White Cheddar, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t feel bad about it. The really shit part is the rush I get when I taste the bottom of a nice FlavorBurst bag. The delectable crushed up little bits of heaven that are way too salty to be good, but just salty enough to make me feel like I did when I was 16 and I started smoking because I wanted to be a badass. Funny, I could quit the smoking (after 9 years) but not the Goldfish.
I immediately punished myself by dragging my ass to the gym and calling everyone I know to tell them I ate an entire bag of Goldfish. This included my skinny, pregnant friend who said to me, “That’s not the way it works, you don’t eat the whole bag of Goldfish.” This also includes telling my boyfriend. His response was, “You are beautiful.”
I thought about it as I huffed it out on the treadmill and watched pregnant Kardashians on the screen who weigh less than I do, combined. Just the other day my man and I were talking about whether or not we should move in together or get hitched first. He said he’d seen on TV that people who move in together wind up breaking up. I argued with, “They would probably break up anyway and don’t you think it’s a good idea to preview your significant other’s day to day events?” Then I got to thinking.
Maybe I should get hitched first to him then he won’t dump me for my strange eating habits. But, would I eat an entire bag of Goldfish if I had a witness? Absolutely not. It’s one thing to call up my friends and confess but doing something so shameful in front of another person, forget it! Maybe marriage is the answer to me and the Goldfish…but, then I could hear my tiny pregnant friend’s voice echoing in my head, “That’s not the way it works.” That bitch, that’s the last time I’m calling her to vent. I mean, I already ate my death in salt content I don’t need a lecture on top of it.
Pounds Lost to Date: 8.4
Weeks In: 16
Weeks to Go: 49
It has come to my attention that it’s been two weeks now with no post or weigh-in. There is very good reason for that I have suffered a traumatic break up…with The scale. After months of going steady and standing with each other I have called us on a break for awhile while I explore my options. I am proud to say that I can finally admit to myself that at this time last year I had an affair with a handsome man named, Cadbury Cream Egg. An affair that I have moved past, but one that has been replaced by a fellow named, Peep (the hot pink bunny kind, of course). Hopefully, for next year’s Easter Season affair there will be with a gentleman by the name of Water. But, it’s hard to say. I think for now though I’m going to try to reconcile with The Scale. At least he isn’t so fly by night as holiday candy. I need a steadfast companion who will tell me the truth, un-sugarcoated…
This week was all over the place. I spent the majority of it fretting about a work project and watching videos about the World’s Fattest Mom. I learned all about how she gained weight and how she is a sex object in the fat community. And then I discovered she has since given up this race and is now broke in the Midwest. This last part made me a little sad..so I needed to pick my spirits up with some spiritual stuff.
So, for the past few days I’ve been on one of my hippie new age kicks. I go on youtube and watch videos of Oprah’s Super Soul Sunday programming and become all inspired. The latest guru I’ve latched onto (trust me there have been many) is Panache Desari. What he preaches is to love and accept and embrace who you are. “You are perfect!” “Live in your awesomeness.” and all that. He talks about writing love letters in your mind to yourself and, of course, waking up grateful everyday. So, I figured why not. I put down the sarcasm (except for bitching about the bouncy-haired slut on the treadmill who drives me crazy) and started to love myself. He says doing this will bring health, wealth, and sexiness…we’ll see.
But, that self love didn’t keep me from weighing in. And, while I didn’t lose much weight, I decided to love my results. Since I began this blog three months ago I have lost a total of 8.4 pounds. While not miraculous, it is certainly not a gain to my weight. I am proud of these 8.4 and look forward to the awesomeness that I will be dwelling in. Let’s just hope that at some point my awesomeness can shop at stores other than Lane Bryant.
Panache says, “You are not broken.” Everything that is happening to you is a blessing and is SUPPOSED to happen. So maybe I am supposed to lose slowly. And maybe I am supposed to hate everyone at the gym. And maybe, just maybe one day I am supposed to finally drop to just “overweight” on the BMI spectrum. But if not, then I will still think I’m awesome.
Weight Loss to date: 8.4 pounds
Weeks to go: 53
Pounds to go: 56.6
Last night my boyfriend and I went out to meet some friends. And I had to work late and miss my regular gym time. If that weren’t awful enough I ate tater tots dipped in blue cheese at the restaurant…if that weren’t bad enough we also went to the candy store and when we brought our goodies in to share with our pals I ate nearly all of the gummies and chocolates and if that weren’t bad enough I also mowed down the entire bag of white cheddar popcorn.
Then on the ride home I I asked my man, “Isn’t Monica’s boyfriend waaaaaaaay fatter than last time we saw him?!” As I digested my regrets at 80 miles an hour I went on and on about how fat he is only to get to the coffeeshop and realize one of our so-called friends had snapped a HIDEOUS pic of me and posted it on my Facebook page. I had the thickest double chin this side of Mama June. I just hope I don’t get the crusty neck or I’d have to cut off my own head. Then I remembered what I’d eaten and discovered that I was no one to call anyone else’s boyfriend fat and I cried…a lot.
So, despite not having gone to the gym for a few days this morning I was determined to have my double-chin wagging double-time on the treadmill. And, not give a shit about the hot blonde muscle man next to me who wasn’t sweating and dying. When I was about to leave I walked up to the scale to confront my tater tot addiction head-on…and to see if I could actually see down there anymore with my chin growth and all. And to my surprise, the scale was missing.
I am purposely NOT buying a scale so as to not obsess and to have to go to the gym to weigh myself so I was devastated to see it gone and immediately took it as an omen and a blessing that I wasn’t the one who had busted it. But then I saw it’s cord threading into the bathroom. Perfect. No one else will be witness to my weight gain. I popped into the bathroom and stripped NAKED and weighed myself to find that I had actually lost weight! The old me would be stoked to find that I ate candy and tater tots and lost weight the new me decided to cut my ties with them as I hopped up and down in delight…until I realized I was in my stocking feet in a semi-public bathroom.
So here’s to a better week of eating and defriending skanks who post shitty pics of me online.
Weight Loss to Date: 7.6
Weeks to go: 54
Pounds to go: 57.4
This week may not have been monumental in the weight loss department but I had a fun lesson to learn.
In addition to being a big girl, I am a big girl with a very supportive man. I know, those of you who don’t have one of those may be cringing right now and I would’ve been right along with you in the barf-fest until last May when I was FINALLY given a good man. Seriously, hang in their sisters, it’s worth the wait. YOU are worth the wait. In the meantime, live as the great and powerful RuPaul suggests, “If you don’t love yourself how in the hell you gonna love anybody else?”
ANYWAY, I started the Couch to 5K program at the gym this week and while I may be doing week one’s workouts for a few more weeks than recommended due to a heart rate that scares the hell out of me during the running portion I am still doing it. And, inspired by The Biggest Loser (as always), I brought my boyfriend along for what they call an “active date.” This sounds romantic but was rather forced. He hates the gym.
He came along anyway and tried to keep up with me on the Couch to 5K. Now, I’ve never been one to have a workout buddy but, my man is hot so I wanted him along…plus he stares at my ass and salivates unlike the meatheads at the gym that largely don’t notice my delectable largeness. After my man rained sweat all over the treadmill and I pretended to be Jillian Michaels he got off while I finished my last few intervals with him staring at me.
What I learned is this: bringing along someone to the gym who is not as advanced as you are makes you feel like a pro. I know it sounds douche-y but you are helping the too…if you don’t brag too much. I also learned that while I have a great man who supports me, he won’t be returning to the gym anytime soon. But, at least he still lets me rag on him when he insists on getting a Shamrock shake instead of a fro-yo. Little did he know this would involve me asking for a calorie sheet in the drive-thru. And little did I know that I would come to realize me ragging on him is really just a cover-up for my lack of responsible eating. That is a story for another day…
In the mean time, don’t give up on yourselves sisters and don’t give up on finding a man who appreciates you for who and how you are…even if you can be a real jackass at the gym.
Pounds Lost to Date: 5.2
Pounds to go: 59.8 (UNDER 60!)
Weeks to go: 55
I have skipped a week of blogging. I have excuses but mostly I didn’t like my results so I thought, “Fuck it.” Which I do realize is the same mentality that caused me to eat two Neopolitan Oreos and feel like shit about it. I also felt like shit about not blogging so I’m back minus the Oreos.
I thought I’d share with you two events of yesterday. At the gym I climbed aboard the treadmill, leaving behind my trusted elliptical. And, I started the program Couch to 5K. Which basically means I ran for a minute and walked for a minute and repeated this 9 times (one more than I was supposed to for good measure). I did it though–despite during the walking I was breathing so hard I was completely bent over the machine. Afterwards I felt like such a freaking winner. The only thing that sucked was that the creep who hits on me wasn’t there to fist bump me and say, “Hey, way to work it out!”
Later, I went to celebrate with my man. After I ate a wrap (and french fries dipped in blue cheese, I know I hate how good that shit tastes too) I saw a girl I work with walk through the restaurant. She is the only person at my job who likes me. And, I like her too because she not only took the time to speak to me she wrote down her fitness routine (intervals with inclines and speeds) for me to look at and offered words of encouragement. I waved her to my table and she wobbled over on unsteady heels.
“Hey, I did intervals today on the treadmill!”
“That’s awwwweeeessssommmee,” she slurred. Then she launched into a half an hour story that repeated itself a little too much and nearly had her in tears of joy. She spoke about her 30 pound weight loss from three years ago. She told me that with the five months only that it had taken her to shed the weight she’d changed her lifestyle. Then she offered to show me the fitness journal she had kept. Then she said, “So, this morning I was really fucking hung over and then I got up and I went to the gym and now, now I am able to do this!” She toasts her beer. “It’s amazing, it’s changed my life, for real.” With that, her friends snatched her up and whisked her off to the next bar.
While I am not sure whether or not she works out so she can drink heavily or to be healthier, it’s nice to have a skinny bitch I don’t hate cheering me on. She’s a little better than the fist-bumper at the gym…at least she doesn’t stare at my ass too much.
Weight Loss This Past Two Weeks: 1.2
Weight Loss to Date: 5 pounds
Pounds to Go: 60
Weeks to Go: 56
Pounds lost to date: 5
Pounds to go: 60
Another week another weigh-in. Seriously, why did I model this 65 pounds in 65 weeks with a weekly weigh-in? It’s not like I’m on the Biggest Loser ranch.
This week has been up and down and all over the place. I finally started on a birth control whose side effects include going blind by blood clots, diarrhea and gaining weight! I also hosted a community event in conjunction with a grant I was awarded. Which basically meant doing everything and bossing my boyfriend around to move chairs and carry boxes. It also involved, much to my dismay, loads of mini cupcakes. Then there was last night when I was feeling money-crunched and suggested my man and I go to get half price appetizers and split a hoagie sandwich thinking at least I won’t eat the whole thing!
I am sure you can guess what happened when I found out I was 2 pounds heavier this week. I blamed the pill, the cupcakes and the chicken strips drenched in blue cheese and hot sauce and the hoagie that was dripping with mayo and pepperoni grease.
What I didn’t expect was that today after I finally wrangled myself to write this post that I realize I am officially quitting this blame game bullshit. I mean, I went to the gym this morning and worked out and weighed myself then blamed my weight gain on the cream cheese and egg sandwich I had for breakfast. When I went back to the gym later, after making sure to pee and take off my boots I was .6 pounds heavier than in the morning. That’s when I realized I am playing the blame game. I am using situations as a crutch instead of facing reality.
Then tonight I read an article about an 87 year old woman who was a college student because she always wanted to be one but never was and she was finally making a go at it. At the end of the article it said she died a week after graduation. In honor of her memory I am making the decision to start again and finish this weight loss journey to the end. I am determined to lose the weight. And, if I die a week late at least I will look good in a casket.
I don’t have a formal plan as of yet other than more vegetables and less cupcakes. But mostly, I need to quit the blame game, suck it up and commit. Either that or somehow get onto that Biggest Loser ranch.
Week Seven Pounds lost: +2
Pounds to go: 61
Weeks to go: 58
A few days ago I slipped on the ice in my driveway. Apparently, moving back to the frozen tundra after several years in rainy upper Northwest weather was a horrible life choice. As I laid on the cement I looked up at the life-sized cut-out of Santa still standing (despite the ice and the fact that Christmas is long, long gone) and realized that I hit my head on the concrete step as well as having fell. And, as an added bonus a chunk of skin was missing from my hand.
At the doctor I was told, “you might have a mild concussion. Which basically means you’ll be scattered brained and unable to focus for a few days but it should go away.” What’s the damn difference between scatter brained/unfocused and me now? I guess I’ll never know if I actually had a concussion or why my entire neck froze up in horrendous pain for two days or why I turned to salt water taffy for therapy but today, at the gym, it all paid off.
I finally wrangled myself into the gym today, after days of agony and sugar, to find that I am back on track to my goal. Plus, loads of the New Years Resolutioners have stopped coming to the gym or have plans for their Saturday nights. A double bonus! Anyway, I stepped on the scale. To date, I have lost six pounds in six weeks. Maybe having a mild concussion can be used as a weight loss aid who knows… All I know for sure is that once this ice melts I am going to take my lighter, more muscle-y body and stand in front of that stupid cut-out Santa and give him a punch in the nose or two for mocking me when I fell. Look here Mr. Claus, this bitch can get back up and succeed.
Weight Loss This Week: 1.2 pounds
Weight Loss to Date: 6 pounds!
This morning I had to be up early and I had a bit of time to kill so I went to the gym. I usually go in the afternoon or evenings but I got there about 9:15 this morning. As soon as I got there I forgot like twelve things in my car and literally warmed up be running back and forth across the parking lot. As I entered I saw a bunch of people. I guess resolutions are hanging on longer than expected or maybe this is just the morning crowd.
An older woman was on the elliptical going apeshit. The machine I like was open but she was way too much of a spaz. I looked at the treadmills. There were a few people on them. One was a tiny girl who looked more like Santa’s helper than a real person. She was running, but the others–a middle-aged woman and man were fast-walking and an old chubby geezer who was barely moving.
I settled into the only open machine. But, when I turned on the tv and it remained blank. Just then the middle-aged woman on the machine next to me left so I hopped from one machine to the next. But, this move put me next to the elf. Then the tv came on the other machine so I went back and started out on a program called “Aerobic” and looked easier than “Cross Country” 1-4. But then the sound went out on the tv and I hopped to the one next to the elf again. When I got that one set up to “Aerobic” and some damn home-makeover show (the evening shows are more dramatic) I heard a sound over my headphones. It was the elf.
“Do you need help with that?”
“No,” I snapped. Then added, “I’m fine, thank you so much.”
“I saw you outside running back to your car,” she continued, like we are friends. “And, I thought of myself. I always forget stuff. Sometimes if I leave my keys in the car I just forget about it!”
I smiled, which made her smile and prompted her to continue. She wasn’t even out of breath. Bitch.
“This morning I had FOUR bags with me before I left the house! And I thought, I can’t go into the gym looking like that! So, I shoved all of the stuff into one bag!”
“Wow, it’s like you are moving in here!” I say, trying not to sound like bitch.
“I could! I have my mascara!!!”
I looked at her, not knowing what to say and losing breath. She smiled again and slipped her headphones back in. Did I just make a friend?
I started going faster and tapped out at 3.8 and just when I thought I was galloping. I looked over at elf and she was at 9.3! I spent the next twenty minutes, dying and hoping that the elf won’t talk to me. But, I did kick it up to 4.2 a couple of times until I thought my hip was going to break. After another 10 minutes elf girl was replaced by a chubby man who tucked his shirt into his sweatpants and I missed her running beside me. Another ten minutes went by and sweat dripped into my eyes as I pulled myself off the machine.
The cookie bar I had stolen from the potluck last night rattled in my stomach. I also had some chicken casserole for breakfast this morning but I needed to weigh-in as I promised myself I’d do. But this week I found out that I’d lost 2 WHOLE POUNDS! While I’m a little shy of my goal (.2 pounds) I am energized to keep going and showing up even if that means making friends with the elf at least if I needed mascara I could count on her.
Pounds lost this week: 2 (YAY!!!!!)
Pounds lost to date: 4.8
Pounds to go: 60.2
After a couple of Kardashian episodes and a kick ass “Cross Training” setting on the elliptical for 45 minutes, I was 10 minutes late to meet my boyfriend, sweaty as hell and scared to face the scale. But I did..after taking my shoes off, of course.
This whole process started out that I was going to do my weekly weigh-in every Saturday afternoon/evening. However, as the results on the scale didn’t reflect my goals of one pound per week I have become more lax in getting my ass to weigh-in on time. I realize now that the action of avoidance is how I got this big in the first place. Being a half-asser. From now on, no matter what I am sticking to the Saturday weigh-in. I am going to make it a priority. I feel that this trickles to my professional life as well. I do stuff but I am not committed to it and making it a priority. .
For shitssake, if weight loss was REALLY a priority in my life I wouldn’t be unwrapping a Christmas gift I hadn’t yet mailed my friend in Canada. Instead of sending her a favorite American candy (Whoppers) I wound up scarfing down her present while watching reality TV and hating myself. What really got me is that I unwrapped her gift! I had actually spent the time wrapping it! It was the saddest Christmas gift I’d ever opened in my life. But it reminds me that I need to give the gift of prioritizing my life choices, so maybe if I follow my own advice it will turn out to be the best gift I have ever opened for myself.
Here are the results:
Weight Loss for Week 4: .2 lbs
Weight Loss Total so far: 2.8 pounds
Pounds to Go: 62.2
Weeks Left: 61
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