I don't know about you guys, but this whole helpless cycle of eat-coz-it's-yummy-feel-sad-you're-fat-cheer-up-by-eating-coz-it's-yummy-etc is getting a little tired to my mind.
I squared to the fact that I'm shaped like a square and bid a
pathetically tearful fond farewell to cheese, chocolate, bread and milk for a time, to descend a scale of my own making -- from my highest adult weight to my lowest adult weight. I wanna rappel slowly but surely down this chart like a rock climber made of WIN.
I made some really great progress by becoming grievously ill and also by eating smaller amounts, mostly of lean meat or veggies, but it's become tougher lately. At about the halfway mark I've smacked into a wall, with only oscillating progress wavering me back and forth between 158 and 162. I've become demotivated and have started backsliding with PBJs and big glasses of 2%. Hopefully being held accountable to the great anonymous macro-scrutiny of the Internets will help me past this hurdle. At least that's the plan...
(Note: This weight scale is not a general judgment. It is medically applicable to my proportions, age, and genetic background. Happy thoughts!)
I have a goal. It's not a very number-specific goal, although I wouldn't say no to anything in the lower 140s. No, it's not really a number at all, whether pounds, pants size, or whatever. It's a feeling. It's that feeling where you're at the beach, or lakeside, or whatever you've got. It's the height of summer, and everyone's suited up. You're walking along the water and you see some young ladies. They're indeterminately young, happy to be together under the summer sun at this beach/lake/whatever, and their cuteness and happiness make you smile. It doesn't matter what your sexual preference or gender. Beauty and happiness when you see it before you WILL make you smile, and THAT is what I want. To be one of those girls that make people smile when they see me. Also I don't want my thighs to rub together anymore.