Life’s like an hour glass glued to the table

There I was. In my car.

Shoving an individual sized lemon pie pocket thing into my mouth, sobbing whilst the sweet sound of Anna Nalik’s 2am song played loudly.

I attempted to sing along to stop the tears… but there was pie in my mouth. Pie.

And there I was.

Pie faced down in a nasty downward spiral.

This plateau has hit me hard. And as angry as I am about it, I can’t get out of it. I can’t get out of this rut. This lazy lazy rut.

And it’s my own fault.

Instead of channeling my strengths, my weaknesses have grown stronger.  My excuses have excuses,  and those excuses have excuses.

It’s funny though… because I can give the best advice to others, yet I can’t take my own… stop caling yourself fat, break the cycle,  just say no…

But it’s time.

It’s time I do listen to my own advice. Time for me to make changes….

And the first thing is to no longer be the ‘woe is me I’m going to be fat forever…’ mentality. No more. And with that goes the label of ‘fatass’.

Next I have to practice the art of saying no. And just because someone else is eating, doesn’t mean I have to be eating.

And there begins the changes…

With that being said… this blog will be retired.  I need to no longer be the fatass who is writing a diary.  I need to be the chick who is going from fluffy to fit & fabulous…..

And there begins the new journey.

A fresh one.

With my BFF, Chrissy Princ.

I’ll link the new blog later, but rest assured it will be awesomesauce.

Proud

I put in a great week.

I started adding a light jog with our walk.

I tracked.

And even though we had Chinese food yesterday, I got right back on track today.

Admittedly I’m a bit worried about Mondays weigh in… But I feel great about my changes this week!!

Phase II

I weighed in this morning.

I did not need my coffee after seeing the number on the scale. That alone was a big wake up call. A slap to the face. With a baseball bat.

212.something.

After the first 3 numbers I kinda blacked out in a rage only those struggling with weight loss might understand.

Rage.

Against myself.

Against the machine…. Errr, the scale.

That number symbolized my laziness. My lack of motivation. My lack of will power.

It showed a of my hard work last year was almost halfway erased.

For what?

Type 2 diabetes, fo sho. {because that’s inevitable if I keep this up}.

So I thought….

Why not start fresh?

I always use my start weight as 234.6 {my post baby weight}, but I keep seeing that total weight loss decline…..

So why not use today’s weight?

I mean, who {besides me} is really counting?

And so here I start…

Weight loss mission: phase II

Real Life:I have an eating addiction

I ate today.

Nothing special, right? We all eat during the day.

But me, I didn’t even realize I was eating until after I was halfway into a box of Annie’s Cheddar Bunnies.

I. Didn’t. Even. Know.

I didn’t even taste them. I just ate to eat. Out of habit. Much like a smoker just lights up a cigarette. An unconscious moment. A moment of habit. An automatic response.

I sat back and thought about today. Yes, there have been lots of stressors here lately, but is that an excuse to turn to food?

No.

So how does one change?

How do I stop?

Then I thought some more.

I want my son to be proud of me. To look at me as a role model. As someone to be there for all the important milestones in life.

If I keep eating that way. I won’t be there. I’ll be on my way to developing type 2 diabetes and all the lovely complications it brings with it. I’ll be unable to keep up with him, play catch without getting winded, unable to chase after our goats, unable to fit in the auditorium chairs, unable to climb the bleachers to watch him play t-ball.

Unable to………

It resonates in my head. The images. The words. His voice.

The time is now.

I must fight for myself. For my healthier self.

No more selfish mindless eating.

No more.

210.8

That moment when you’re in denial. Then that moment when reality smacks you in the face, knocking you down then kicks you with steel toed shoes.

Or, as I like to call it….

stepping on the scale.

I knew it wasn’t going to be pretty. I really did.

But it damn near brought me to tears. {ok, I’m lying, I shed tears}

I’m at a loss right now.

and it flipping sucks.

Short of never eating again, I don’t know how to get my ass back in gear.

And that makes me sad, angry, annoyed, and scared.

MIA

Trip to Montreal was filled with gluttony. And almost 20 miles of walking in ONE DAY.

I expected a gain (and got one), knowing it was probably water weight (thanks sodium!).

And took a few days to regroup.

I decided to go with myfitnesspal for a month. No straying. Honest tracking. Good choices.

And so far it’s awesome.

I’m not sure, but I think it’s a mental game right now. I need to focus more on food & less on the points. Or atleast learn to love them.

But right now this seems to be the path I mentally need to take.

I felt better, physically & mentally this past week. I’m making good food choices & seeing my calories, carbs, proteins & fats all fall at my set guidelines. Which is encouraging.

So we’ll see what this month brings. But I NEED that month of solid one-way tracking to see results.

Then reevaluate.