Oh dear. I’ve decided on that expletive instead of my effing favorite one, as I decide today that I need to do something active to get rid of the approximately 20#s that I’ve gained in the past two years at my desk job. Yes, TWENTY POUNDS. That’s a toddler. Or a really fat dachshund. While I was eating dinner tonight, I read some woman’s ONE YEAR journal in Self magazine about losing 28 pounds. Holy crap. If I’m only losing about 2-3 lbs a month, I’m totally going to give up! This lady in the magazine did Weight Watchers, which sounds great, but then I realize that I’m not even using the gym membership I have. So, people, you are my Weight Watchers. So don’t let me eat butter, ok?
Really though, I figure this is a good way to write and hold myself ACCOUNTABLE. I’m not sure if I’m up for this sort of commitment, but it kind of doesn’t matter. I come from a family where fat happens unless you combat it, and the product isn’t pretty. Heart attacks. Type II diabetes. I’m 5’5” and hovering around 150 right now (ok give or take 5 more, but I’m going with the 150 reported on my wobbly scale in the greeny bathroom that I step on every morning). Two years ago I weighed about 135 pounds on a bad day. That’s only 15 pounds, you say? Well, I was also 135 pounds five years ago when I was being really sedentary and survived on coffee, blueberry muffins and beer. I think I can do better.
So where the hell did 20#s come from? Well, I sit on my ass all day at a computer, in meetings, in the lunch room, in front of the internet at home, watching tv. I don’t work out (well, once in a blue moon I go to yoga, and I was riding my bike to work at a LESIURELY pace during the summertime, but I don’t have any sort of routine.) Also contributing to this is my lovely, sexy boyfriend who really likes me the way I am and takes me out to deliciously great restaurants and also loves food. I think it boils down to this: I’m really comfortably HAPPY in my life right now, which is ironic because my pants are getting tighter by the day, and that makes me SAD.
So follow along as I try to kick my own ass.
If you get famous it from this, let the record show that I'm your dietitian supervising this project ;) if only cheering you from the sidelines. You can do it!!! Let me know how I can help!
ReplyDeleteYou can do it, Krissy!
ReplyDeleteKrissy. I am going through this currently as well. The girl that I used to be who ran marathons struggles to run at all now and I just buy new pants instead of tempting the pant-spliting gods and shoving myself into my old pants. So you have a friend in this with you. I started again about a month ago, and though the winter makes it harder, it's going well so far. Keep it up as you will be a motivation for me.
ReplyDeleteYAY Sarah! You can do it too! Are you training for anything in particular? I've never run but am contemplating a go at it once there isn't ice all over the place. You know, fat pants have their place. Because you really want to NOT wear them anymore. And it must be thrilling to put the skinny ones on again. One day...
ReplyDelete