Like it. Love it. Need it.
I am so effing sick of working out. I want to be the girl that never has to work out or watch a single thing that she puts in her mouth but never tips the scale over 120 pounds and can fit into clothes she wore as a kid. I am so sick of the mixed signals. Eat, don’t eat, workout, don’t workout. Cardio is essential, cardio is a waste of time. Don’t eat carbs, eat carbs. Don’t eat too much protein, don’t eat too little. The only thing they can agree on is you should drink water—but only drink when you’re thirsty or do you drink at least 60 ounces of water a day?! Cheat day, no cheat day. Vegetarian or lean meats. MY HEAD WANTS TO EXPLODE. The feeling is similar to what I experienced last night when I was caught up in the strangest of bodily function storms. I had to burp, cough and sneeze at the same time. My brain wanted to shut off and I couldn’t think straight for several seconds. Because to cough you need to push air out, burping would release gas and the sneeze! God. It was horrible and completely overwhelming. I’m trying to come to terms with the fact that this will be forever. There will never be a magical switch that I can hit to become *that girl*. The new “goal” is to be down to 199 by Monday July 13. I have 12 weeks. I have to lose about 5 pounds a week. Hardcore, yes, but it’s a goal and there is no way I can force myself to lose the weight no matter what I do. I just hope it decides to cooperate with me—the fat, that is. Because hello, I’m shredding, walking, and doing my best to eat healthy foods….I am totally looking forward to some chili when I get home—and salad. The last time I can remember weighing less than 200 pounds was more than a decage ago. I can take it easy when I reach 199. It won’t seem quite so daunting. And when that day does come—whether 12 weeks or 12 months from now, it WILL happen. I have to make it happen, I have to keep kicking my ass and crying myself to sleep and staring at the candy and chocolate and cookies and ice cream for ten minutes while I have an argument with myself, “Is it worth it? Do you want to eat that one tiny little crappy cookie that has 80 calories in it? DO YOU?” and the answer is usually yes and that is why it seems like nothing will ever change. I will take stock of the little victories: my clothes are looser. I feel so much stronger—little things like sitting down and getting up without using my hands, engaging my abs at the weirdest moments because holy crap, I actually DO have abs. Weird thing I noticed doing the bicycle crunch is that twisting up to the left is so much easier than twisting up to my right and I get a much fuller range of movement. Is my right side stronger all around? I also don’t have the energy to form many coherent thoughts or write that much at the moment, but so far so good. It’s approaching two months of exercising and trying kind of hard to eat better. July 13, 2009!! I’m marking it on my calendar. I think I’ll refuse to weigh myself until then. Sounds like a plan.
