...When you're coming dangerously close to the big 3-0? ... And you've birthed two children? ... And one of them is 1 month old and diet and exercise have set out on a mission to destroy him to ruin your body? ... And you're painfully addicted to ice cream?
Okay, so maybe a little hard. And maaaaybe part of that is my fault. I could probably figure it out and lose all the weight I need by the time I want to lose it. Honestly, I'm pretty sure what I'd need to do is keep eating lots of calories, but all from fresh fruits, veggies, and lean meats. Which, let's be honest, sounds terrible. Seriously. Sick.
Have I mentioned how much I hate healthy food? Not always. I mean, I can convince myself to like it for a minute or so. Today, for example. "Wow. That honeydew melon was so sweet and fresh and delicious, I don't even WANT ice cream now." Which, as we all know, is a great big load of bull-hookey. I do want ice cream. I want a great big bowl of ice cream. And then I want some chips, and then I want some more ice cream. You know, for dessert.
This kind of "dieting" really blows. I would so, so much rather cut my calories down to practically nothing, to rage against my own self for a couple of supremely painful weeks, and then be used to it. That I can do. That I've done. I can feel hungry and pout and stomp in circles around the house for a couple of weeks. I am incredibly talented at that. But this whole, "keep eating, just do a better job of it" arrangement, well, it's on my nerves something fierce.
When I started this blog back in November of 2010, I'd already lost over 20 pounds. Which is to say, you haven't seen me in this place before. You saw me with some success, well past the crying/screaming/tantrum phase. But now, I'm back here. I'm back to rocking the boat from side to side, hoping I can finally knock it into ocean of healthy living. I don't agree with the people who say maintenance is the worst. Maintenance is just longer. THIS is the worst.
On the bright side, I've got a little support this time. My husband has decided he's about 5 pounds heavier than he'd like (which makes him only about 18 pounds LIGHTER than me), and he's been griping about some extra fat around his midsection that personally, I can't see and don't believe exists. But whatever. If it means I have someone to drop a few pounds with, I'll tell him he's a fatty too.
Also on the bright side, writing all about how much I hate eating healthy food and how much I want to go swimming in a giant bowl of ice cream (scratch that, that sounds absolutely terrible), makes me feel super guilty, and disinclined to go eat more ice cream. On a related note, just go ahead and expect me to be griping about food I'd like to eat but shouldn't roughly 3-5 times a day.
Oooh also. This picture is my new before picture.
It's from Thursday, when we were at Disneyland and I fist-bumped a suit of armor, all of which was awesome. The picture though, was unpleasant to see. Especially the belly portion, which I cropped out because of the shame. Don't worry, I won't forget what it looked like. The terrifying image is burned into my brain. As is the "upper arm the size of some girls waists" thing I've got going on here. Yikes. Ah well. At least it'll make that "50 pounds lighter" even sweeter.
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