So I know I'm late to the game on this one but it's February already. I'm glad I didn't resolve to lose weight or get healthy this year. Sunday night I watched the superbowl while eating a personal pan pizza (read: 12" of delicious brick-oven carby heaven) and drinking champagne. After watching Beyonce sweat it out during half time, I capped the evening off with Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream and some popcorn.
You know how sometimes you gain weight and then your favorite boots won't fit over your inflated calves?
That's my life right now.
I've spent some serious time during the second half of December and entire month of January putting on my winter weight. The weight I was so happy to be rid of last fall.
The picture on the far left was taken in December of last year (2011) while in Knoxville visiting one of my friends. It was a great trip. We got to see penguins in Tennessee and ate a lot of good food. A LOT of good food. And drink booze. A LOT of booze. The second two pictures were taken this December (2012), around the beginning of the month and before my holiday indulgences. And by indulgences I mean second helpings of baked Macaroni at midnight just because I knew it was in the fridge.
Just to be clear, never at any point in time would I have called myself "fat." Variations of the word, sure. I have always had a curvier figure and tended to be dismissive about weight gain because I felt like it was my natural physique. And I'm lazy. And apparently curvy is making a comeback? Or at least that's what Dove's "Real Beauty" campaign told me in 2005.
When you work in an industry filled with beautiful women and preach on the phone every day about confidence and self-esteem, it's a difficult thing to admit you struggle with.
September was when I really started paying attention and got motivated. I noticed a significant change by the end of October and was able to buy jeans two sizes smaller. People would compliment me every now and then, and even though it felt good to get recognition, it disheartened me to think I had been so big there was a loss to even notice. If they think I look good now, what did they think I looked like before, you know? As autumn settled in to stay, my schedule got busier and I essentially stopped running. It's a great habit and a habit I absolutely loathe, but apparently being fit doesn't fall in the same category as watching Mythbusters re-runs on the couch until 2 AM. I bought new shoes in January and ran 2 miles on Monday and again on Tuesday. It was miserable.
I still don't eat the best. I'm lazy when it comes to cooking and the only time we eat good food at home is if Mike is in charge of the kitchen. I'd much rather swing by McD's and get a 10-piece McNugget meal, or a burrito from Moe's, or a spicy chicken sandwich from Wendy's, or mozzarella sticks from Arby's, or an Oreo blast from Sonic, than try to figure out something yummy to cook at home - there aren't that many ways to enjoy grilled chicken breast, y'all. This has definitely been an experiment in will power.
Anyway, I just felt like posting something honest. I was happiest when I was healthiest (I guess eating a couple handfuls of M&Ms for lunch is not the way to a flat tummy), so I want to find some motivation to maintain what I've accomplished.
I hope you have a happy Wednesday. Eat a Cinnabon for me.