OK. So in order to prove to myself that I am completely devoted to my mental/physical health and weight loss journey I am baring all (figuritively, atleast til the weight loss part pays off.) and humiliating myself into putting forth my best efforts.
Today I joined weight watchers. I feel good about this decision because it doesn't offer the quick fix that I usually go for. Just eating better and exercising. Yay me. However, I had to build a profile on WW online today. I didn't particularly love this part.I had to take a good look at what I've done to my body over the past ten years, three kids, one husband, and three billion pounds of french fries. I set my goal at one hundred pounds today. How disturbing. Now, this will put me higher than my thinnest weight but right comfortably in my completely insane "ideal" weight range and out of double digits pants. Which, in short, means that after one hundred pounds, I will still be nowhere near Top Model material. That is, of course, fine with me. My husbands motto: the curvier the better and please don't lose that butt. This is absolutely reassuring to me since at 118 lbs I had a size 2 waist and a size 10 butt which left me squeezing into a 6/8 and I still thought I was the Jabba The Hut. Now, well, I am begging for those size eight days. Alas, life is not fair.
Now that everyone knows my evil numbers and I have my head hung in shame, I am going to zumba my belly off and walk my thighs away on the treadmill for the next ninety minutes. I'll keep all of you updated, if I survive.
Thank goodness for husband's who like a little extra! My husband likes to say, "There's no fun in a straight line!" Believe it or not, he adopted this saying from my grandfather (my grandmother happens to be quite curvy herself). Keep up the good work, I'm on a mission to lose some baby weight too. My "baby" is four-years-old now, so I think it's about time!
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