I lost 11 pounds in one week! I should have been dancing on the roof, I should have been prouder then a peacock. And I was, for most of the day. In my happiness frenzy I decided to burn some more calories by fall cleaning my apartment. I was in my tattered shorts, my hair messily pulled back and my T-shirt soaked with dishwater; when my roommate rushed by getting ready for Saturday night with her friends. Let me just say, my roommate is very nice, sweet, and kind hearted; she would never do anything to purposefully hurt me or hinder my weight lose efforts. And I would never grudge her, her good genes, good looks, or success. However, I just wish I could have a cup of that easy beauty. She rushed in and pulled on a pair of jeans, a simple white top, left her golden blond hair down, and headed out without a drop of makeup. She looked positively gorgeous; like she’d escaped the glossy pages of a fashion magazine. I instantly shattered and deflated into a mess. I always tell myself that I’m stronger because of the struggle, that I appreciate what I have more then those that have it so easy. But if that’s true then how can I be so easily destroyed? I lost 11 pounds in a single week! My goal is to lose 5 pounds in a month. But there I was feeling utterly grotesque. I felt, massive, fat, shlumpy, sloppy, hideous. Suddenly, I wasn’t thinking about the success of losing 11 pounds, I was focused on the other 70 that seemed to loom over me like Mt. Everest. I felt so much farther from my goal. I shuffled along, finishing cleaning and made myself a healthy dinner while trying to re-build my resolution and reminding myself that 11 pounds is really good; really, really good. By this morning I had managed to pull myself back together, more or less. But I can’t help but worry that I will find myself deflated again by some simple act.