Over the past year I have defiantly had my ups and downs. Unfortunately—SIGH— the downs were with my mood and the ups were with my weight. I’m pretty happy to be out of my “funk” (a.k.a. depression) but I’m NOT happy about wearing my fat pants.
While uncurling from the fetal position last winter, I was apparently munching on what ever I could get my hands on. AND I DIDN’T STOP. The sadness + anxiety fog may have lifted but my face stayed firmly affixed to the feedbag.
Happens.
I’ll take weight gain six times over feeling like a basket case any day of the week. Yes, I’d rather be fat and happy. But I like thinner thighs. I was FREAKING 10 LBS from my HIGH IN MY RANGE GOAL WEIGHT. UGH!!!!
That is the frustrating part. I was so F&^%$#@! Close. I almost had thin knees (see photo above) and no back fat.
SO CLOSE.
So this past week I gave myself a good kick in the ass.
I started logging my food again. I’ve been counting my activity. And doing all the things I need to do to get my ass back to SO FREAKING CLOSE.
So here we go again. Queue Whitesnake folks.
Leave a Reply