It is over a year ago since my last post at which time I was struggling at 178-179 lbs. and I am disgusted to inform you that I am 189 lbs these days. I have been too depressed and defeated about my damn weight to even update this log.
I gained the 10+ pounds over last years' holiday and was at 190 at Leadership in January and have fluctated in the high 180's most of the year. Stopping and starting the gym from February to April and then not again until two weeks ago when I've rededicated myself to the Y (or I'm stopping payments on it).
Most of you know about my 'Scarlett O'Hara' moment two weeks ago at which time my husband informed me that he was surprised that I even felt the fall down the steps becasue my ass was so fat <laughing all around at my expense>. It is an amazing testiment to my patience that I haven't killed him yet–you know me, it doesn't take much these days for me to want to murder someone.
However, I've decided that yes, I AM too fat and I want to look fabulous–but not for him–for my next boyfriend. Men should be like money, when they reach 40, you should trade them in for two twenties. But if I am going to be a cougar, I need to look fabulous. I'm off to the gym today. Yes, I am 188.6 but I am psyched because two weeks ago I was 193.4.