be a size 8 again

I’d like to get back to a size 8 where I’m happiest with my body and where I was when I met my husband 6 years ago.

I finally got the gumption up to exercise again, and even though it was only a few minutes of it I feel a lot better. As I get older, I realize that goals aren’t completed in a day. So I’m going to just make the small effort of jogging, swimming, or biking for a majority of the days in a week and see what happens. It’ll definitely beat the nothing I’ve been up to lately.

Well, I’ve gone completely the wrong way on this one. I’m a size 14 now, tipping the scales at a ghastly 192. I’ve gained something like 30 pounds in the last six months.

Some of it can surely be attributed to getting a girlfriend and going out to eat too much. Losing my Jeep (and truck) and therefore access to the mountain bike park and going running with Sunshine (who has come down with fucking rheumatoid arthritis at 29) hasn’t helped. The dark cloud that follows me around doesn’t make matters any easier, giving me a complete lack of initiative to do anything.

Roller derby was good exercise, but everyone was a little dramatic for my taste. Interminable financial worries, dead parents, etc. are not fueling interest in anything besides sitting in a chair and reading. I’ve never weighed more than this, so maybe I can shoot for weighing 200 or something like that.

I have been eating like a pig because I’ve been working out so much and also working an erratic schedule. It’s no excuse; I have to stop buying a box of ice cream sandwiches every time I go to the grocery store.

for me. People say it looks good on me, but my mirror says I look FAT.

I was gorgeous at an 8. That is where I need to be.

I tried on the size 10 Gap jeans this morning and I’m almost there. A couple more weeks should do the trick.