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One step forward, one giant backwards freefall off a cliff...

Saturday, April 09, 2016

Remember the show Undeclared? It was a comedy about college kids, had Charlie Hunnam and Jay whatshisface who voices Hiccup on How To Train Your Dragon, and the annoying chick from Bones whose name escapes me... Anyway, there's this part where a student's dad is sitting on a futon with one of the college-age guys, and they've both lifted up their shirts to expose their bellies, which were very similar in size. The college guy pats his and says, "I... have the body of a 40 year old." The dad pats his and says, slightly proudly, "I've still got the body of an 18 year old!"

I'm reminded of this episode whenever I look at my own belly. I'm not sure this is a belly appropriate for any age, to be truthful. What can I say; it's been a long, stressful, sedentary winter.

But I'm workin' on it.

At the beginning of April I revamped my fat-loss binder. I made a cloth slip-jacket that's got pen-holders along the front so I've got a nice variety of colors to mess with when I'm working with it. I tossed out pages and charts that weren't working, added more pages and charts that looked more my speed (thank you, Pinterest, and your insane bullet journal obsession), and knocked out a habit tracker of things I need to do either on the daily or at least more often than I'm doing them now. Everything from workout/walking goals, water goals, "no soda", down to "entering receipts in checkbook" and "home cookin'" versus eating out. My goals focus on health, organization, and even my hobbies. I also made lots of lists to help keep myself together, lists about what I want to do, what projects I want to tackle, what books I want to read, etc., etc. So far it's been rather fun.

Well, save for the part where I entered my weight and measurements. Yeah, that was a kick in the teeth. Back to my highest adult weight. Which is weird considering I haven't drank soda or eaten out nearly as much as I used to... go fig.

Putting that behind me. Going forward there's a cream cheese embargo on my fridge. I've had to give up all manner of alcohol until I get my broken molar removed (drinking aggro's the nerves and the pain is absolutely bonkers). I've plans to replace my old-n-busted bicycle when I finally reach that floating paycheck that isn't earmarked for bills. I sprang for the park pass once again so hitting up the dunes on the regular won't be a problem. I need to start pestering Em about regular walkies, though. Well, once Mother Nature stops throwing snow at us.

Snow. In April. Seriously.

I've been discussing The Struggle with Jonathan, who's got this irrational fear that I'm going to end up some form of malnourished twig-being by watching what I eat and working out. *snort* I've assured him this is impossible, as my height, musculature, and general build will always mean I'm going to be "thick" regardless of my weight. I'm not looking to be a model, I'm looking to fit ALL the clothes in my closet, not just those with stretch. "Well, if you get too skinny I won't be attracted to you." Gawd love him, but he's not one for subtlety or tact. So today I printed out two pictures of myself from our past. The first one is Halloween 1998. I'm 16, and at roughly 150 pounds. He and I dated the summer previously. The second one is of me at 29, when we reunited. I was between 160 and 165. He was attracted to me at both weights, and still digs me at 186. I've got the pictures pinned to my inspo board in my craft room to remind myself how damn good I looked (seriously, I wish I was as fat as I thought I was when I was a teenager, hah!) and to pull out and show him exactly what I mean when I say I want to be at a smaller weight. I'll still be thick, just a more streamlined thick.

He's expressed the desire to get back to running again. Nothing serious, not training for a marathon or anything... just to run. He was in cross country in high school and did an insane amount of running in the Marines. He's agreed that we've become far too sedentary and as agreed to come walking/jogging with me when the snow finally clears. We used to do serious walkies before he found a job... but now our schedules don't mesh at all. We'll either have to get up early on my days off/ my late nights, or do after-dinner walks before we settle in for the night. Eh, we'll hammer something out.

Have I mentioned how much I miss having a stationary bike? Because I do.

But there we have it. Yet another do-over. Reset the clock; let's try this one again.
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