I had a different post written for today. I even went so far as to schedule it, then I went to take a shower and thought better of what I had written.
Here's take two.
I gained most of the fifty pounds I'm trying to get rid of while Mom was taking chemo in 2005. I didn't handle that well at all and it was easier to cuddle up with my best friends Ben and Jerry than deal with emotions I was feeling.
But Mom's well now, praise the Lord, so what's my excuse for holding onto the weight? Here are some things I've told myself over the years...
It's easier to not work out than to work out. Sure, I'm not the prettiest picture all sweaty and panting on the treadmill, but the way my body feels day after day with this weight feels worse than a 2 mile workout.
It's hard and takes too long to lose inches. Sure. But having to sport size 16 pants at 5'2" is no piece of cake, those can be hard to find.
I'd really like to just eat pizza and forget about it. Yep. That'd definitely be easier, but is it worth it?
I bought new pants this week and they're smaller, but they're tight. But they're smaller. That's the part I should be focusing on and all I really CAN focus on is "but they're tight".
Good Lord.
I didn't gain this weight in a month, so why am I so surprised when I haven't seen more results in the same amount of time? Because I'm crazy, that's why. I have seen results; my athletic endurance has increased dramatically, I'm not as hungry as I was when I started this journey. I'm making better choices. I haven't thrown a weight through the television at Jillian Michaels.
AND MY PANTS ARE SMALLER.
That alone should be enough.
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