curvy me in the mirror

as of today, the weight loss total is 38.4 pounds since the highest weight recorded in august.

38.4!!!

last night i ate an entire frozen pizza.

shut up.

with ranch sauce.
SHUT UP!!!

sigh.

the loss can only be attributed to being conscious of what i'm putting in my mouth.  i swear.  and not being COMPLETELY lazy.  yes, i do my yoga (not all the time) and i even started training for a 5k at the urging (bullying? just kidding...) of my lovely future wife (we're both mostly straight but hey) - but some weird unexplained hip pain has slowed that to a halt (because i'm still somewhat lazy).  when life is complete hell, i wrap up the hands and head to the basement to beat up the heavy bag.  none of this is as consistent as i'd like, and time management being the skill i lack the most, life jumps in the way all the time.  i'm fine with that, because i like life a lot.  ;)

i also started guided meditation around the end of last summer, thanks to another friend who took all of the scary out of it by sharing a youtube video with me.  i'm a stress eater, so that had to be part of what helped me not eat every tastykake in sight. (it's ok if you take the empty box to the register, right?)

thinking that starting this blog has had a hand in the weight loss as well, only because it's not all in my head anymore.  some people even subscribed, which is always an ego boost, and it seems the larger the ego, the smaller the pants size?  no?  heh...

anyway.  yesterday the loss was marked at 34 pounds.  i have no idea where another 4.4 went, especially in light of that delicious pepperoni thin crust pizza, except that i had a cup and a half of chai in the morning and peed ALL DAY LONG...

the thing about having an hourglass figure is, you're curvy.  (duh)  so, even at the teeniest ever, you're never rail-thin.  and if you let yourself, you'll look in the mirror at those round hips and round thighs and round arms and enormous tits, and think, i. am. fat.

111 pounds, kids, and i thought i was the size of a house.

i'm shooting for a healthier weight now (not that i'm doing a lot about it, but it does seem to be going in that direction and i'm not arguing!), and more than that, just, healthy.

says the girl who chowed down on god knows how many calories and fat grams at 6pm last night...

;)

trivius maximus

the other day at work we had a trivia contest.  they released a video of several associates doing exercises in the office, and asked that we guess how many calories the group burned.  i spit out a number, a co-worker looked at me like i was nuts and suggested about 200 calories higher.  we each submitted our answer.

today they announced the winner.  my answer was 20 calories below the actual calculated amount.

my formerly skeptical co-worker was surprised.

"hey, recovered anorexic over here," was all i had to offer.

my name is zombie anorexia and i am a beautiful whale.

(just read the first post here, and loved that sentence, and decided it totally deserved to be said again.)
(also, just want to point out that most of the time, i do not actually feel like the fat girl who needs to make food confessions.  when i'm not writing here, i feel mostly normal.  it's when something like *this* comes up, that suddenly i freak out and have a crazy urge to have my BMI measured and enlist in some sort of insane boot camp for fatties.)

somehow, in the months since some time this past summer, i've lost over twenty pounds.  it fluctuates (and i check the scale too often), but considering, it's pretty awesome.

i'm still fat.

i stress eat.

and lately, baby, have i been stressed.  (hence the fluctuation.)

i hate talking about it, especially when the stressor isn't present, and when it is, i can't really talk about it...  sometimes i do, but mostly i just sputter and seethe.  and eat carbs.  crunchy ones.  and fast food, even though i hate it while i eat it.  (it's a little like angry sex:  i fucking LOATHE you, but it feels so GOOOOD....) there are distinct phases:  the i have no choice phase.  the i have a choice but fuck it i deserve something greasy and smothered in fake cheese sauce phase.  the holy shit how could you treat yourself this way, get a salad! phase, the WHY THE HELL didn't you pack your lunch phase, and the fuck it, i've wasted so much time arguing with my fat cells that i really do have no choice now phase.

looks like i'm planning a trip to a sunny, sandy spot in the near future.  i got the ok for time off today.  my first thought - oh my god my thighs.

thought #2 - it's ok, you can cover them.

thought #3 - oh my god my arms.

i'm all good until my twisted psyche shines a spotlight on my pasty white wobblies.

i have good intentions.  i do get (some) exercise.  i do eat really good for you food, and i enjoy it.  i don't chart anything because i get totally anal, and it awakens my inner anorexic.  (she's in there now, saying, shut up you fat bitch, you could stand a little anorexia.)

i am so exhausted (from the stress, mainly) that it takes all i have to make a trip to the store between work and home.  ridiculous.  i know the signs, i usually overcome the inner objections and just power through.  some nights all i can do is come home, wah wah wah you don't want to hear it.

the point is, you can know all the right answers, and still do something else.

i'm fat, and the popular thing to say now is, deal with it.  get over it.

i'm not sure that's the healthiest attitude to have, but i guess it's whatever works, whatever really makes you happy, for however long it lasts.

for now, i'm thinking i'll take serious advantage of the upcoming kidless weekend, do some cleansing physically and spiritually, go buy those running shoes i keep promising myself (and a sarong), and start applying some sunless tanning lotion on the down low.  except now i've told you about it, so, it's not...it's not really down low.  whatthehellever, it's a service to the retinas of anyone else on the beach.  zombie anorexia is a humanitarian, who knew!

*sigh*
it'll be fun.
wish me luck :)