Yeah, so I’m pissed off. Yesterday, i had had enough. I got on a scale for the first time in, um, a YEAR, and it was NOT pretty. I almost threw it out. Instead, I got on another one. It said the same thing. There was no way around the fact that…..
I am almost mortified to type this out, but here it goes: I weigh nearly 30 lbs more than I did when I was fighting. If you are curious about that, you could probably google me (you’d have to know my maiden name) and could find out what my fight weight was…..but I’m not sharing that info with you.
Back to my pissed-off-ed-ness: yes, I have put on nearly 30 lbs since I stopped fighting almost 4 years ago. It’s gross. I feel fat and unworthy. I am not fitting into my beautiful clothing that I paid good money for. I can’t wear any of my formal dresses and we have 2 weddings coming up. And my husband never, spontaneously, tells me I’m beautiful.
I have 2 choices:
- I can cry (which I’ve done – it doesn’t change the situation….sorry folks).
- I can get mad and then get even
I’m old-school like that, I guess. I like even-steven, fair play. I love blaming people or things, but the truth is: blame doesn’t change things. So, while YES, my weight gain is due to a myriad of things…..the only thing that will change it is me.
My friend Cat said to
me facebook: “I’d hate to be the person standing in your way” – and the sick and wrong part is that the only one standing in my way is was me.
So, after running – yes, friends, my back is better-enough that I was able to run again: YIPPEE! – for 20 minutes and walking for 10, climing that rolling stair machine thing for 15 and riding the bike for 10, I went to hot yoga. (OH, I also assisted a class in the morning! did you know you burn calories doing that?!?!)
At class, one of the girls I know from the studio tried to make me feel better (I feel great, btw) by saying “you look great, anyway” and earlier in the day, my BESTIE said “it’s water weight” – while I love them, here’s the skinny: STOP TELLING ME THAT IT’S OK….IT IS NOT OK! when did telling the truth become so hard for people to do. when your ass falls out of your pants or you split a seam, IT IS NOT OK. and when you can’t afford to buy a whole new wardrobe and pay medical bills that (trust me on this) will develop because you are fat, out of shape and prone for heart disease, cancer and stroke……IT IS NOT OK.
I am a pretty girl. I am smart. I am motivated and …… I GOT FAT. It happens. It may even happen again. It isn’t pretty. It also isn’t permanent – and now that I am pissed off, I can do something about it.
So, today – without anyone prodding me or telling me how great I am – I will be at the gym, busting my ass (which is larger than it should be, so more to bust!) to get back to my true, perfect self. No, I don’t need to be my fight weight. I don’t even need to be my FIRST fight weight, but somewhere around there would be great.
I’m counting calories….yup….counting each one that enters my mouth – or trying to. I am using a cool site to do this – it even helps with your fitness routine if you need it.
Anyway, needed to just let it out. Hope you don’t mind.