Monday, March 2, 2009

"I gotta get through this, gotta make it, gotta make it, gotta make it through"

("Gotta Get Through This" by Daniel Bedingfield)

Let's start off with my goals from last week:

Take Metformin (my blood sugar medicine) daily: 6/7
Test blood sugar in a.m. daily: 6/7
Test blood sugar after dinner daily: 5/7
Consume less than 2,000 calories daily: 3/7
Treadmill or other cardio at least 3 hours this week: 0/3 big, fat goose egg, baby!

Big improvements in the blood sugar/medicine area, but a big fat nothing in the diet/exercise area for yours truly. And speaking of the diet...

254.8

I am 5.2 pounds down, but 8.8 pounds behind my goal. I wish I could just get back into that mindset I had a month ago! I was so gung-ho about everything, and actually working toward my goal. I have to admit, the .6 pound loss this week must have been pure luck. I actually lost a little weight in spite of one ill-fated trip to Applebees with The Hubs' parents, and a three-birthday (The Hubs, me, and one of my little cousins) birthday party yesterday.

I really need to get back into this. Like, now. Well, like, yesterday. But now. I have to stop making excuses, and do it. I need to get my ass on that treadmill. I need to stop eating whatever crap I want. It's not too late yet - it's only the beginning of March. I don't want to be writing this in June, and then in September, and then in December, and realize I've blown my chance. I've gotta get through this.

Uugh. What kind of cruel joke is it that it's so easy to put the weight on, and almost freaking impossible to take it back off?!?! Right now, I'm just so close to a pity party, it's not even funny. I just want to cross my arms, and stomp my feet, and say "It isn't fair! It isn't fair!" over and over again. I want to hate every single skinny woman in the world, and hold a grudge against every swimsuit and clothing designer that ever existed, and say, "hey you! why don't you make anything that looks even remotely stylish? Why don't you want fat women to feel good about themselves?!"

Which, of course, I know won't fix my problem. If hosting a self-pity party burned calories, I'd be Twiggy. (Who, by the way, I would never wish to emulate. She looked so emaciated in the 60's!)

The whole diet thing is totally a mind game. I know it is. In order for me to lose weight, I have to change the way I think about food, and dieting, and exercise. The Navy Wife's dad just lost a lot of weight doing a hospital sanctioned liquid diet. He had to reintroduce food into his life and completely reprogram himself about the way he looked at food. For some reason, something in me just does not want to be that person who always has healthy eating/exercise on the brain. Someone who let their diet (allbeit successful) take over their life.

I don't know why, I just feel like I would be missing out on something. What? I don't know, but we were just talking about this at girls' night a couple of weeks ago. When I got the news that we were going to have to go to Chicago for baby Tyler's funeral, I went to BW3's for lunch and drowned my sorrows in honey barbeque sauce. When we actually took the trip, we ate McDonalds and Burger King, and I didn't even attempt to find healthier alternatives. And I said to The BFF during girls' night, "You know, sometimes there are more important things in life than dieting". And I really, truly believe that. But to that person I was talking about above, there isn't anything more important than sticking to his/her diet and exercise.

As much as I don't want to be that person, I think I need to be that person. I have to make this freaking weight loss my number one priority. My number one thought. I can't just forget about it when ever something out of the norm happens. I can't just say, "I'm having a bad day. I deserve to eat what ever I want". I don't deserve it. I haven't done anything to deserve it. Maybe, when I've lost 20 pounds, and I really want a slice of cake? Maybe then I'll deserve it, but now, I don't.

I have a real problem with telling myself "no". In my little head, I'm like, "hey, you're an adult. No one can tell you not to eat/buy/do that. You want to? Go ahead! It's the fun part of growing up!" Then my little head conveniently, and forcefully pushes that whole "consequences" part into a dark, cob-web filled corner, to be forgotten, and I turned myself into a fat, indebted girl with a couple regrets. I really need to face the music and pay more attention to the consequences part of being an adult...but really, who wants to do that? It's such a downer.

I wish I were a kid again.

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