Sunday, January 31, 2016

Happy New Month's Eve!

Today is the finalest day of the firstest month of 2016. I began this year at a startling 162.0 pounds. Yesterday, best weigh-in of the year, was 153.8.  Today was worse. But I did nothing to deserve that, besides being awesome with my diet and doing a double shift of exercise, so whatever. The scale can bite me.

Today's truth? Feeling a little fat. I've been working hard to ignore the fact that I'm still 9-10 pounds heavier than...ALERT: Pausing a moment for Awesome.

My kids and I seem to have all gotten a cold, so we're home, ditching church, and instead watching The Avengers for the second time this weekend. They like the Hulk. They think it's cool that Thor and Loki are brothers. They think Black Widow is awesome. They wish there was more fighting and less talking. But more importantly, I just had this conversation with New Addition:

NA: "Mommy, what's that guy's name?"
Me: "That's Hawkeye."
NA: "Oh, okay."
Madelyn: "Wait, who is that?"
NA: "His name is Hot Guy."
Me: "....Yeah, that works too."
Because, it seems, you're never too young to pick your favorite spandexed stud muffin.

Now we will return to our regularly scheduled gripe session. So right. I'm trying to ignore the fact that I'm still like 9-10 pounds heavier than I was at the end of August. Back when even my tight pants didn't leave me fretting about my inevitable muffin top. Back when my tight pants were, in fact, just called "my pants".

I remember why I gained the weight. Not like weight gain was the actual goal or anything, but I remember that I was emotionally overextended and exhausted and stressed out and overwhelmed and exhausted and exhausted, and I remember that I chose to set aside my diet and exercise regimen for a time, while I adjusted to new life.  None of this was an accident. I made a choice, for good or for ill, and now I'm living in that consequence.

As of yesterday, I'd lost 8.2 pounds for the month. I don't really care who you are, 8.2 pounds in a month is great. That's solid, I-can-feel-this-in-my-skinny-jeans level change.  And though I hate the fact that I'm still over 150 (and probably will be for at least another couple of weeks), I'm better than I was. Yes, over the fall, I made a choice. That choice gained me 18 pounds. But January first, I made another choice. If I hadn't made that choice, I'd almost certainly still be over 160, and may have even gained another 3-5 pounds this month.  Instead of weighing 165, I weigh under 155. Instead of feeling like a chunky failure, I feel like a slightly-less-chunky person on the road to success. I've lost 31% of the weight I set out to lose for this year. I am 31% finished with losing a marathon. Which is great. Still not "there", But, you know, closer. Closer. Ever closer.

Anyway, the kids declare it's Spiderman time. Apparently, we're very over DC these days. Marvel or die, friends. Marvel or die.

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