I am on a mission. I'm sick of feeling like a fatty.
Two years ago I was on my 6th week living in Oaxaca, Mexico. I spent my days walking to and from school (a 15 minute walk up the side of a mountain), eating tacos, sopa, doritos, and Coca Lite. I probably had a couple too many Palomitas but still managed to lose weight. I blame it on the highly lard-ized cooking style that kept me sick more or less continuously. Combine that with the 2 weeks after I returned to Wisconsin where I literally couldn't go a day without vomiting from the change in cooking styles and you can picture a fairly svelte me.
Within two months I was no longer working at my run-around-for-8-hours-a-day job and moving in to the posh life of a desk job. If you asked my co-workers now, many would say that I looked nearly anorexic. Within 3 months on the job, I had gained 5 pounds. Between the intense decrease in physical activity and the close proximity to the mall (and the wonderful food court food that accompanies it) I was no longer the hottie with the body that I once was.
Flashback to high school. I never considered myself the "skinny" girl, though looking back at photos I definitely should have. Case in point: my senior year I was one of the "chosen ones" to be thrown around like a rag doll during our showchoir show... I also had a good 5 inches on all of the other girls and had the least muscular partner. My freshman year I ate a Big Mac, fries, and a Super-Size Coke every night for dinner and still lost weight. Those were the days. Despite these obvious signs of my lack of fat, I still had every girls nightmare--the tragic muffin top. In retrospect, this probably could have been prevented with a larger pant size...but, like most teenagers, I was more concerned about what that little piece of fabric on my pants said to the world about how large I was.
My scale now says a number that I would have said was morbidly obese 5 years ago. I'm in a size of pant that I used to say "kill me if I ever have to wear that". Past me would not be happy with current me. Some women love the body they're in, and I honestly think that I would love me for me, if it weren't for a few gross deterrents--I find it difficult to paint my toenails because my fat is in the way, near constant heartburn is beyond uncomfortable, the inability to find my size of anything at normal stores (because all of the "normal people" sizes sell out faster than you can blink). The list goes on. This is why I want to change. I want to be happy with myself. I want to have the energy to clean my apartment after work rather than waste my afternoon on Pinterest. I want to be able to rent a dress from Rent the Runway without panicking when neither of the sizes fit because my hips or boobs are too big (even though I've ordered the largest sizes available) forcing me to have to find something for a Black Tie wedding a day before the event.
As I sit in a hotel room in Council Bluffs, Iowa, I'm contemplating all the reasons I want to make this lifestyle change just as soon as I return from vacation tomorrow. Maybe part of it was this week of staring at elite athletes in tiny pieces of fabric, gliding through the water at remarkable speeds knowing that I wouldn't even be able to finish a length of the Olympic size pool without needing to take a timeout. Either way, it's happening.
I'm not calling this a diet. It will be a change to my lifestyle. My biggest goal right now, is to like vegetables. Anyone who knows me knows that this will be a toughie. I VERY recently started eating mushrooms and onions. By why shouldn't I like them? I have access to some of the best produce in my area and there is no reason I should keep walking right past it all every week at the Farmer's Market. I also want to start actually using my gym membership. I was kicking that gym's butt before I got switched to a new shift at work (and since March have been there all of two times).
More than anything, I just want to be happy with myself and know that even if the scale is continuing to climb that I'm eating as healthily as I can.
