Day 77 (well, crap)

I'm feeling like a total schlub today. Yes, the weather sucks monkeys (it's like a hurricane outside) and I've been dealing with a 2-day stint of the stomach/butt bug (the benefits, of course, being the nice loss of water weight!) ...

but ugh! I'm just out of it. Hopefully a nice, long bath and a healthy dose of gossip-rag reading will pull me out of this funk. (That AND, it's Tuesday night which can only mean one thing: One Tree Hill! Yes, it's teeny drama, but I luv, luv, luv it. It's my secret escape. Hmm, starting to feel better already, well, spiritually anyway ... the stomach's still a mess.)

Day 76 (my new BFF)

Walking to the bathroom this morning, the receptionist in my office (with whom I’ve barely exchanged more than pleasant “hellos”) said, “Are you losing weight?”

“I’m trying,” I replied.

“I can tell. You look like you’ve lost a lot. Your clothes are hanging on you.”

“Well, you’re my new BFF!”

Floating on a cloud of unexpected confidence, I walked into the bathroom and glanced in the mirror. After the exchange I’d just had, I expected to see a vision of “good lookin’ness.”

What I got was hideousness.

Fugliness, actually.

My clothes were, in fact, hanging. But not in that, “wow, you just dropped some tonnage,” way. It was more of, “oh, poor thing, you must shop at Goodwill,” way.

While I initially thought that tackling the Double Ds (debt and diet) was a great idea — you widdle down debt by slashing the food budget, which in turn widdles your middle — I’m now having second thoughts.

What happens when your widdled middle no longer fits into your clothes? What does the budget have to say about that?

I don’t mind looking like a frump on the weekends — I live in tee shirts and jeans — but at work, I have to look professional, hell, I’d settle for presentable at this point.

May have to have a “budget meeting” with the hubby and work on some creative financing.

All bitching aside though, this is a fan-freakin-tastic problem to have! Thanks BFF, for bringing it to my attention.

Day 73-75 (i am who i am)

It’s taken me a looong time to get to this point, but I’ve realized one basic truth about myself — I’m a cheater. And that’s OK.

For three months I’ve been beating myself up for every little slip I’ve made in my quest to “release the thin within.”

I’m over it.

I do great, amazing even, on some days. And others, well, I’m a sad little junk food eater. Sure, I’d love to power my way through this fatness and become one hot mama, but for me, that’s just not realistic.

My goal — when I see only one chin in the mirror and collar bones hibernating just beneath the surface of my skin and not 12 layers of fat — will be achieved later, rather than sooner.

But I’ll get there. I’m not giving up. I’m just finally giving myself permission to be OK with who I am.

And damn that feels good.

Day 70-72 (Weigh Day #10)

Holy mother of all that is yummy and delicious and fattening - I did it! I met my goal from last week. I stepped on the scales yesterday and weighed 211. That's 17 shed from my fluffy frame.

Just think, when I lose 2.13 more, I will have dropped the equivalant of my 9-month-old baby. Talk about putting things in perspective!

To recap, since the last weigh in, I added the poop pills to my diet. Since the program asks that you limit your fat intake, I'm not sure if it's that element that has been most helpful (39 grams and 1200 calories down from, well, let's be honest, who the hell knows) or the actual pills themselves. Probably both.

Also, two weeks ago I started adding intervals to my cardio (3 minutes walking, 1 minute running for 30-40 minutes depending on my energy level that day), so I'm sure that's helped, as well.

I know the workouts and weights have finally started paying off from the mirror's point of view because I'm starting to see the rumblings of something incredible - muscles! YOWZA!

Just the other night, the hubby was helping me with an ab routine and he said, "Holy shit!"

"What? What is it?" (He freaked me out, I thought something had exploded ... no, not my ass.)

He grabbed my thigh and said, "Dang! You're getting some serious muscle here."

Aww, greatest compliment ever! I'm still beaming. (thanks babe!)