Oh gosh, I think about this constantly. Last Christmas was when I made up my mind to start for the new year.
There's no way to know, but I can indulge in a little wishful thinking, yes?
All of my new clothes that I'll get for Christmas will fit this year, unlike last year. That was heartbreaking. I won't settle for a holiday outfit that fits this year. I'll shop, deliberate and the only thing I'll agonize over is a CUTE choice rather than the unflattering fits.
I'll be able to roll around on the floor and play with my son and his new toys rather than perch on a couch with a pillow on my lap to cover my stomach. I won't think about my stomach rolls because they won't exist.
Instead of avoiding parties because I'm embarrassed, the fattest woman there and I've become fatter in the last year I'll flaunt my hot body and bask in the compliments! I'm going to be the hot wife, the hot mom but the same cool (albeit healthier) me
I won't care in the least bit when my photo is taken. I'll ham it up! I'm going to get my photo taken on Santa's lap, just because there will be no chance of me busting his legs.
You know, this is sad. Really sad. I always SAID my weight wasn't a huge deal, but I can see here, typing this out that it was. It sucked. I'm getting away from that.
Weight wise, I honestly hope I'll be close, close close to goal. Really close. I can do it! I am doing it! I want to be concentrating on exercise for the pure enjoyment, strength training, perfecting my muscles rather than cutting fat (I do strength train and exercise for fun now, but the remaining weight I have to lose lurks constantly in my thoughts). The only thing I want to worry about next year is maintaining my new body, becoming stronger, healthier, possibly doing a BB competition for kicks. I want to be a maintainer for Christmas.
Please Santa?