Death of a bathroom scale.
I remember this Garfield comic from a long time ago, in which Garfield's scale talks to him whenever he gets on. It usually said something like, "Lay off the lasagna fatso" or "I can't breathe....get off me!". I have a scale like that. It's a body fat scale that allows you to put in your measurements and then you step on and it says supportive and nice things like, "ALERT!".
I bought it thinking that it would help me keep tabs on my weight. In the end, I think it just made me feel like a Fatty McButterpants everytime I got on. I have only gotten the fat levels down to "Normal" once. It was fleeting... there was this week where I weighed 120 last year and I went out and bought this pair of Paper Denim jeans that haven't fit me since. I had managed to de-carb/low-fat/whole-grain/south beach myself to a size 2. It was a huge struggle, even though it was only 10 lbs.
So, I'm working out all the time. And, I've been weighing myself like a compulsive psycho. I finally told Tim to take the scale away and hide it from me. I can't live with these numbers that don't really mean anything. Maybe my Mom was right, maybe I do read too many magazines. Maybe my crappy self esteem (which I'm starting to get a handle on) comes from some unknown source that I'll never be able to identify. All I know is that I can't be a tiny, salad-eating girl for the rest of my life. I mean, like healthy food... I love apples, and green beans, all the legumes, and I even like fat free milk. I think I'm pretty balanced. I don't gorge all the time, but on weekends, I like to spice it up. Perhaps with some Queso Fundido from Milagro Taco, or Eggs Benedict from Steuben's.
My point is, I've had it up to here with this picture I have of me in my head. I was skinny in high school. I was a size 0 actually and my life was NOT better. My life now is wonderful, and being a size 6 is a hell of a lot easier than being a size 0. I don't think I'm ever going to fit into those stupid size 2 jeans again because I don't have time to obsess about it anymore. I could be a size 2 if I had no job, no life, and ate tiny amounts of food (6 times a day to keep my metabolism up!) and worked out for 90 minutes every day. I can't commit that kind of time to it.
So, I run (3 times a week). I walk (when I'm too tired to run or if I wore the wrong sports bra - hahahaha). I do situps (every night). I go see my trainer once every two weeks to keep myself motivated. If nothing else, I'll be a firm 6 (and FYI, I'm a size 4 sometimes, depends on how much salt I've had lately). Tim fell in love with me when I was a slightly squishy 8, so I guess it doesn't matter that much. He tells me I'm beautiful every day anyway.
So, I won't give up cheese people! I toast you with a glass of champagne and an aged gouda. Now, I'm off to bed....I'm running around the park tomorrow.
~e
P.S. I made Apple Pie for Tim tonight. It was delicious! Oh and we ate with Creme Brulee Ice Cream. It tasted like a creamy Caramel Apple. I highly recommend that combo...
I bought it thinking that it would help me keep tabs on my weight. In the end, I think it just made me feel like a Fatty McButterpants everytime I got on. I have only gotten the fat levels down to "Normal" once. It was fleeting... there was this week where I weighed 120 last year and I went out and bought this pair of Paper Denim jeans that haven't fit me since. I had managed to de-carb/low-fat/whole-grain/south beach myself to a size 2. It was a huge struggle, even though it was only 10 lbs.
So, I'm working out all the time. And, I've been weighing myself like a compulsive psycho. I finally told Tim to take the scale away and hide it from me. I can't live with these numbers that don't really mean anything. Maybe my Mom was right, maybe I do read too many magazines. Maybe my crappy self esteem (which I'm starting to get a handle on) comes from some unknown source that I'll never be able to identify. All I know is that I can't be a tiny, salad-eating girl for the rest of my life. I mean, like healthy food... I love apples, and green beans, all the legumes, and I even like fat free milk. I think I'm pretty balanced. I don't gorge all the time, but on weekends, I like to spice it up. Perhaps with some Queso Fundido from Milagro Taco, or Eggs Benedict from Steuben's.
My point is, I've had it up to here with this picture I have of me in my head. I was skinny in high school. I was a size 0 actually and my life was NOT better. My life now is wonderful, and being a size 6 is a hell of a lot easier than being a size 0. I don't think I'm ever going to fit into those stupid size 2 jeans again because I don't have time to obsess about it anymore. I could be a size 2 if I had no job, no life, and ate tiny amounts of food (6 times a day to keep my metabolism up!) and worked out for 90 minutes every day. I can't commit that kind of time to it.
So, I run (3 times a week). I walk (when I'm too tired to run or if I wore the wrong sports bra - hahahaha). I do situps (every night). I go see my trainer once every two weeks to keep myself motivated. If nothing else, I'll be a firm 6 (and FYI, I'm a size 4 sometimes, depends on how much salt I've had lately). Tim fell in love with me when I was a slightly squishy 8, so I guess it doesn't matter that much. He tells me I'm beautiful every day anyway.
So, I won't give up cheese people! I toast you with a glass of champagne and an aged gouda. Now, I'm off to bed....I'm running around the park tomorrow.
~e
P.S. I made Apple Pie for Tim tonight. It was delicious! Oh and we ate with Creme Brulee Ice Cream. It tasted like a creamy Caramel Apple. I highly recommend that combo...
posted by saucybritches at
5/19/2007 09:26:00 PM
2 Comments:
Good for you. If you eat healthy and exercise that much its enough!
Enjoy.
I love you regardless of the fact that you're an enviously tiny size 6, and of course you're beautiful. Seriously, you glow. I don't know how Tim ever falls asleep with all that glowing going on. Maybe it's energy-efficient LEDs, and you turn them off at night...
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