Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Between Rock Hard and a Fat Place

I gained two pounds this week. Not a big deal, usually, but when it's the third week in a row, well, I'm not heading down a good path.

Almost a year ago, I made a committment to drop my baby weight. I did it! I lost 25 pounds in 8 weeks. I didn't cheat, I didn't miss a P90X session, some days I even did two. I was a rock star. I felt great! Slowly but surely, the weight has come back. I'm still not to my peak weight, but with eating season upon us, outlook not so good.  I'm worried. I don't want to be back to that place. I want to be in fitness mode where the sight of unhealthy food repulses me, but I haven't yet felt the urgency to put the sweets away and get off my duff.  I'm between rock hard and a fat place.

Admittedly, now is the absolute worst time to "diet".  And honestly I have no intention to. As stated in my last entry, I loooove me some holiday festivities. And what screams holiday louder than food? Definitely not my fat-girl jeans that are getting snug again, or that roll that seems to be getting in my way of late. I'm frustrated, but not enough to do something about it. It's irritating is what it is.

I learned something recently about adults with ADD. We tend to hyperfocus on things that interest us and let the rest kind of fall away into the abyss.  I realize now how many times I've done this with so many things. This is why I've gone on crafting binges, and spurts of club-starting, and marathon training. I guess my weight loss last year was one of them. And like the others, it was doomed to end.

So now I keep looking in the mirror, waiting for my brain to go *DING*  I WANT TO BE SKINNY! PUT THE CRAP DOWN!  Then enter super mega Lose Weight Mode. So far...nada. That darn bucket o'candy from trick-or-treating last night is just too tasty to pass by and the visions of holidays spreads dancing in my head just have me wanting more.

So what's a chubby girl to do?  I suck at self-motivation and all I wanna do is relax and eat what I want. But I also want to be fit and active and fit in my Hot Mom jeans.  This sucks. It just plain sucks. The two can't coexist. It's one or the other.  Gotta choose, Carl, gotta choose.

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