Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Are you there bacon? It's me, Margaret...er, Emily


I’m fighting with my scale. Actually, I take that back because I’m not really a numbers person. I’m fighting with my saddlebags. For those of you not ready to listen to me bitch about being chubby, just tune out now because I’m on a tirade.
I’m prefacing this post with the statement that I do indeed know how to lose weight and I don’t want to hear about how I should just run or eat beets or whatever other bullshit advice you have for me because I don’t care. I’m a firm believer in doing what works for you and what works for you won’t work for me. Partially because the only time I want to run is if my life depends on it, and partially because I’ve tried just about everything I want to try and I know what works and what doesn’t, so adopting your low carb/Paleo/vegetarian/2 Big Mac/whatever voodoo lifestyle choice you are doing doesn’t appeal to me. So don’t even waste your breath because, like my last trainer, I’ll probably just verbally assault you and ignore what you have to say.
When I think about what I need to do to lose weight, I want to punch a baby. Preferably a chubby one. At the peak of my weight loss last year (which happened to be around my 10 yr reunion...coincidence? Pssshyeah right!) I was almost completely gluten free and drinking about 160 oz of water a day. I wasn’t really working out, unless you count the stripper-robics or the Bikram. None of these things are difficult in the least. It’s not hard to stick to that diet and it’s not hard to do that very minimal physical activity. The difficulty I have with these things is the amount of TIME that is needed to do them. A ton of planning goes into eating gluten-free and making sure that I’m eliminating excuses by cooking on Sundays (usually about a 3 hour effort, not counting the trip to the grocery store) for the whole week and planning the 6 times a day that I was eating. What. The. Hell. I would CONSTANTLY be thinking of the next thing I was going to put in my mouth (that’s what she said), whether it was another shot of water or the piece of turkey I brought for a snack. I played Power Hour with my water to make sure I made my daily goal...if it was 10 AM and I was only 60 oz in, I was behind! Then I’d get off work and somehow find an hour and a half to go sweat my boobs off in a Bikram class in Richardson, which was a good 45 mins away from my house. By the time I walked in the door, it was usually about 9...and if I did that NOW, living in Garland, better push that to about 9:30. This is why people are fat...because who has the time to do this shit day in and day out? Well technically, I do, but I want to whine about the effort, so shut your face and jump on my venting train.
Long story short, I have to suck it up and find a way to motivate myself to spend the time to do this shit. And to stop eating delicious things. And drink more water...I’m already 60 oz behind...
I hate naturally thin people.

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