I just missed you guys sooooo much I had to weigh myself and measure myself so I'd have something to tell you...and boy oh boy, do I have somethin' to tell ya!
Eight Weeks BFL:
Weight: 175 (down 3 lbs from Week 6-->FIFTEEN LBS TOTAL!)
Bust: 41.25" (down .5"-->down 1.75" total)
Arm: 12.75" (no change-->down .75" total)
Waist: 36.75" (down 1.75"!!-->down 6.25" total!!)
Abdomen: 41.25" (down 1.00"-->down 3.25" total)
Butt: 42" (down .25"-->down 1.00" total)
Thigh: 24.5" (no change-->down 3.50" total)
Calf: 15" (down .25"-->down .50" total)
B(ullshit)MI: 29.1 (down .5-->down 2.5 points total)
So...comparison wise, I just lost about:
60 sticks of butter!
A nice size Thanksgiving turkey
3 sacks of potatoes
a watermelon
60 sticks of butter
15 one-pounder bags of M&Ms
my post-pregnancy weight (finally!)
15 packages of butter...which add up to (you guessed it)
60 STICKS OF BUTTER!
....and a partridge in a pear tree!
And I got into a pair of size 10 jeans today...and that means I got in, zipped 'em and buttoned 'em and everythang!
As my sister-in-law once said when I complimented her physique in a photo...RIPPITY DOO DA!
Ahem...thank you, that concludes today's presentation. w00t!
Showing posts with label before measurements. Show all posts
Showing posts with label before measurements. Show all posts
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Day Twenty-Six, Numbers For Week Four
Hi everyone.
Dang, I nearly forgot to write today! Things are well here. Andrew is a bit unruly today, and I think the beginnings of some serious independence are showing. But that's a story for another day. I worked out like a...uh...well, I worked out my lower body really hard today, and lifted up to 30 POUNDS for dumb bells working out my calves. I've never wielded such heavy weights before, and this increase in strength is so wild and surprising to me! I had to pick up a big stack of nested glass bowls, and I had braced myself to pick them all up in one hand. Before I couldn't really do it at all, without being afraid my wrist would break off and I'd drop and crash all the glass bowls. This time, I tensed up, ready to lift some seriously heavy glass bowls, and the bowls all jetted up into the air with not nearly as much effort as I thought I'd need. Me and Popeye...we're likethis.
I meant to wait until tomorrow for numbers, but I got anxious, I guess. I was wondering how I was doing. I was worried nothing much had happened, since Week Three had been such a bust with lack of workouts and food issues. I missed running yesterday since Andrew was a little sick, and I just finally decided to get it over with and find out what my progress has been. So, here it is:
Weight: 179! (That's down five pounds from Week Two, and down ELEVEN POUNDS TOTAL!)
Bust: 41.75" (Down .5" from Week Two, and down 1.25" total)
Upper Arm: 13.25" (Up .25" from Week Two, and down .25" total)
Waist: 39.25" (Down 1.75" from Week Two, and down 3.75" total)
Abdomen: 42.5" (Down .25" from Week Two, and down 2.00" total)
Butt: 43" (Down 1.00" from Week Two, and down 2.50" total)
Thigh: 24.5" (Down .75" from Week Two, and down 3.50" total)
Calf: 15.5" (Absolutely no change yet at all...that's ok, I like my calves!)
I was getting bummed as I was taking measurements, but then I looked back at the Week Two numbers, and then back to the beginning, before I started. This is real progress. It isn't necessarily flashy, look-I-lost-seventy-pounds-in-two-weeks, but this is real, tangible progress. I can wear size 12 jeans now, which I had not been able to do. I can tell a very slight difference in myself, how I stand, how my body moves. It doesn't feel like I'm moving a Jell-O mountain when I am running. When I move, I don't really hurt later, as opposed to before, when I was sore a fair bit. I am enjoying being active, and I can see and feel how I feel better when I am putting better, whole foods, in my body. My mental state and clarity are improved, and I just feel good. It is really wild. I mean, excuse me for saying it twice, but I lost three and a half inches off of my thighs. That is a fair amount, in my humble opinion.
The measuring tape, while I fear it and have a fixation on it (well, not really), has really been a useful tool for me so far. It is one thing to see a number on a scale, and I am glad the number is lower, don't get me wrong (ahemELEVENahem), to be able to see where the weight is coming off from is very cool. I find it interesting that my arms got a wee bit bigger, and at first I was chagrined, but then I realized that that is muscle growing there, and I think that is just fine, thank you very much!
So here, let me put it this way. I have lost 44 sticks of butter off of my frame (and it really might all be from butter, who knows?) . I can lift heavier weights than I have ever lifted before. I did 10 pushups (okay, so they were the "girly" ones, but still), and my BMI, that good old controversial measurement, has dropped down to.......(drumroll)..................29.8!! That is down from 31.6, and I am no longer considered obese! That might just be my biggest, happiest surprise this week. I am far from being at a healthy weight, but I am no longer OBESE! I never thought I'd be so happy to be just "overweight", but try thinking of yourself in terms of that word and see how you feel. Obese. Just so glad it doesn't apply to me anymore!
I'm looking forward to tomorrow, to running for my Aerobics workout, and to walking with Andrew at the farmer's market again. I look forward to talking to you again, tomorrow! See you then!
Dang, I nearly forgot to write today! Things are well here. Andrew is a bit unruly today, and I think the beginnings of some serious independence are showing. But that's a story for another day. I worked out like a...uh...well, I worked out my lower body really hard today, and lifted up to 30 POUNDS for dumb bells working out my calves. I've never wielded such heavy weights before, and this increase in strength is so wild and surprising to me! I had to pick up a big stack of nested glass bowls, and I had braced myself to pick them all up in one hand. Before I couldn't really do it at all, without being afraid my wrist would break off and I'd drop and crash all the glass bowls. This time, I tensed up, ready to lift some seriously heavy glass bowls, and the bowls all jetted up into the air with not nearly as much effort as I thought I'd need. Me and Popeye...we're likethis.
I meant to wait until tomorrow for numbers, but I got anxious, I guess. I was wondering how I was doing. I was worried nothing much had happened, since Week Three had been such a bust with lack of workouts and food issues. I missed running yesterday since Andrew was a little sick, and I just finally decided to get it over with and find out what my progress has been. So, here it is:
Weight: 179! (That's down five pounds from Week Two, and down ELEVEN POUNDS TOTAL!)
Bust: 41.75" (Down .5" from Week Two, and down 1.25" total)
Upper Arm: 13.25" (Up .25" from Week Two, and down .25" total)
Waist: 39.25" (Down 1.75" from Week Two, and down 3.75" total)
Abdomen: 42.5" (Down .25" from Week Two, and down 2.00" total)
Butt: 43" (Down 1.00" from Week Two, and down 2.50" total)
Thigh: 24.5" (Down .75" from Week Two, and down 3.50" total)
Calf: 15.5" (Absolutely no change yet at all...that's ok, I like my calves!)
I was getting bummed as I was taking measurements, but then I looked back at the Week Two numbers, and then back to the beginning, before I started. This is real progress. It isn't necessarily flashy, look-I-lost-seventy-pounds-in-two-weeks, but this is real, tangible progress. I can wear size 12 jeans now, which I had not been able to do. I can tell a very slight difference in myself, how I stand, how my body moves. It doesn't feel like I'm moving a Jell-O mountain when I am running. When I move, I don't really hurt later, as opposed to before, when I was sore a fair bit. I am enjoying being active, and I can see and feel how I feel better when I am putting better, whole foods, in my body. My mental state and clarity are improved, and I just feel good. It is really wild. I mean, excuse me for saying it twice, but I lost three and a half inches off of my thighs. That is a fair amount, in my humble opinion.
The measuring tape, while I fear it and have a fixation on it (well, not really), has really been a useful tool for me so far. It is one thing to see a number on a scale, and I am glad the number is lower, don't get me wrong (ahemELEVENahem), to be able to see where the weight is coming off from is very cool. I find it interesting that my arms got a wee bit bigger, and at first I was chagrined, but then I realized that that is muscle growing there, and I think that is just fine, thank you very much!
So here, let me put it this way. I have lost 44 sticks of butter off of my frame (and it really might all be from butter, who knows?) . I can lift heavier weights than I have ever lifted before. I did 10 pushups (okay, so they were the "girly" ones, but still), and my BMI, that good old controversial measurement, has dropped down to.......(drumroll)..................29.8!! That is down from 31.6, and I am no longer considered obese! That might just be my biggest, happiest surprise this week. I am far from being at a healthy weight, but I am no longer OBESE! I never thought I'd be so happy to be just "overweight", but try thinking of yourself in terms of that word and see how you feel. Obese. Just so glad it doesn't apply to me anymore!
I'm looking forward to tomorrow, to running for my Aerobics workout, and to walking with Andrew at the farmer's market again. I look forward to talking to you again, tomorrow! See you then!
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Day Thirteen, Numbers...
Drumroll please.
I am very pleased to announce the two-week numbers here. I just ate lunch but, feeling feisty, I decided to hop on the scale and whip out the tape measure and let the chips fall where they may. So, here goes: I'll post the new numbers, and the old numbers, and (if the math gods are with me), I'll even tell you the difference. I was very pleasantly surprised by what I saw!
Weight..................184!
(old weight: 190------->down 6 whopping pounds!!!!!!)
Bust......................42.25"
(old bust (ha ha): 43"------>decreased .75"!)
Upper Arm...........13"
(old arm: 13.5"------>decreased .5"!)
Waist....................41"
(old waist: 43"------>decreased 2"! YOWZA!)
Abdomen.............42.75"
(old abdomen: 44.5"------>decreased 1.75"!)
Butt......................44"
(old butt: 45.5"------>decreased 1.5"!)
Thigh....................25.25"
(old thigh: 28"------>decreased 2.75" HOT DAMN!)
Calf......................15.5"
(old calf: 15.5"------>no change yet.)
If I ever had a doubt that this plan is working, the tape measure totally dispelled it. There's nothing quite so dizzying and euphoric as measuring oneself, trying not to tense up or "accidentally" tug the tape measure too tight, feeling like you have a good reading, then finally looking at the number on the tape only to see it's GONE DOWN! And some of those numbers really went down pretty dang well, if you ask me. Hello! Big winners this week are my thighs (I love you "hamceps" and "quadristrings", bunches and bunches!) and my waist. My pear shape is maybe not quite so pear-y now!
Losing six pounds, though. Before, when I'd try to diet (instead of changing my lifestyle), I'd lose weight and feel like six pounds (or similar) wasn't very much. Maybe there are those of you out there who feel like that too, sometimes, so here is a trick I learned about how to make those removed pounds really look like the loss they are. Six pounds removed is like:
Six packages of butter (salted or unsalted, your choice!) on a plate--that's 24 sticks of butter, yo
A five pound bag of potatoes and more besides
Six one-pounder bags of M&Ms
A canteloup
A cat
A baby
about a gazillion packages of rice cakes (ok, running out of six-pound items right now, but you get the gist)
I am just really happy right now. I think that's all I can say. I am going to take a rest, since Andrew is napping, but I bet I'll be smiling in my sleep. I plan to do my Aerobics Solution this evening when I get back from running errands, and with those numbers in mind, you can be sure I'm going to be working hard and imagining some more fat globules giving it up! I'm going to do it most definitely, though! I'll be having a free day tomorrow, so see you Monday!
I am very pleased to announce the two-week numbers here. I just ate lunch but, feeling feisty, I decided to hop on the scale and whip out the tape measure and let the chips fall where they may. So, here goes: I'll post the new numbers, and the old numbers, and (if the math gods are with me), I'll even tell you the difference. I was very pleasantly surprised by what I saw!
Weight..................184!
(old weight: 190------->down 6 whopping pounds!!!!!!)
Bust......................42.25"
(old bust (ha ha): 43"------>decreased .75"!)
Upper Arm...........13"
(old arm: 13.5"------>decreased .5"!)
Waist....................41"
(old waist: 43"------>decreased 2"! YOWZA!)
Abdomen.............42.75"
(old abdomen: 44.5"------>decreased 1.75"!)
Butt......................44"
(old butt: 45.5"------>decreased 1.5"!)
Thigh....................25.25"
(old thigh: 28"------>decreased 2.75" HOT DAMN!)
Calf......................15.5"
(old calf: 15.5"------>no change yet.)
If I ever had a doubt that this plan is working, the tape measure totally dispelled it. There's nothing quite so dizzying and euphoric as measuring oneself, trying not to tense up or "accidentally" tug the tape measure too tight, feeling like you have a good reading, then finally looking at the number on the tape only to see it's GONE DOWN! And some of those numbers really went down pretty dang well, if you ask me. Hello! Big winners this week are my thighs (I love you "hamceps" and "quadristrings", bunches and bunches!) and my waist. My pear shape is maybe not quite so pear-y now!
Losing six pounds, though. Before, when I'd try to diet (instead of changing my lifestyle), I'd lose weight and feel like six pounds (or similar) wasn't very much. Maybe there are those of you out there who feel like that too, sometimes, so here is a trick I learned about how to make those removed pounds really look like the loss they are. Six pounds removed is like:
Six packages of butter (salted or unsalted, your choice!) on a plate--that's 24 sticks of butter, yo
A five pound bag of potatoes and more besides
Six one-pounder bags of M&Ms
A canteloup
A cat
A baby
about a gazillion packages of rice cakes (ok, running out of six-pound items right now, but you get the gist)
I am just really happy right now. I think that's all I can say. I am going to take a rest, since Andrew is napping, but I bet I'll be smiling in my sleep. I plan to do my Aerobics Solution this evening when I get back from running errands, and with those numbers in mind, you can be sure I'm going to be working hard and imagining some more fat globules giving it up! I'm going to do it most definitely, though! I'll be having a free day tomorrow, so see you Monday!
Saturday, August 15, 2009
The Day Before The Day Before
Hi. My name is Erin. I am 30 years old, and I am fat. No, really.
I wasn't always fat, and I think I have spent considerable time and energy convincing myself that I didn't look that bad. After a while I think I got in the habit of only looking at myself from the chest up, never looking at my upper arms, looking in a full length mirror from way far away, and convincing myself that I was still thin. Well, maybe not thin, but just a little...thick. Not thin, but just a little fat. Ok, a bit fat, but not really fat. Ok, fuck you, I'm fat, but I'm not REALLY fat. Right?
I eat what I want, and sometimes I eat when I don't really want to. Ok, a lot of times I eat more than I want to. I eat when I'm upset, angry, frustrated, bored. I eat to reward myself, to make myself feel better, to celebrate, to do all kinds of things. Meanwhile, I don't like being active. I like to think of myself as graceful and physically lovely in a fleeting deer kind of way. Except I can't bound and leap like a deer. And I don't like to run (I have never been built for either speed or distance). I fantasize about being able to move, to run, to do active things, but in reality I've come to the point where it is getting hard to get around. I can totally go up stairs and down stairs, get in and out of cars and stuff like that, but running around with my two-year old is a lesson in humility (or humiliation). It's hard to be an involved parent when your kid wants to run around and play and you peter out after about 10 yards. I can feel my body moving in all sorts of ways that don't mean fitness. You know, kind of like your body keeps moving after you stop. Ooooh yeah.
So I am going to try--no wait, I am going to DO something about it. I have tried things in the past, and that was all basically bullshit. I have tried Weight Watchers, the Zone, going vegetarian, LA Fitness, more Weight Watchers, chitosan, metabolife (and these were taken back in the day when ephedra was still in them--wasn't that a wild ride.), smoking, even taking laxatives or epsom salts a few times (if you are curious, don't bother wasting your time on such a horrible thing to do to yourself), and even more things that I can vaguely recall. All of this experimentation started when I was in my early 20s. I put on a few pounds, I tried various things to get them off, basically everything except eating less and exercising more. I gave up on those pounds and acquired more. I started to get big when I was about 23, and have grown even more since then.
Right now, I am 5'5", and I weight 190 pounds.
I recently went on vacation with my fiance and our son, to visit my parents. No, my mom never said a word, but our vacation pictures sure said a lot. They said: HOLY SHIT, HONEY, YOU ARE FAT. At least, that's what I saw.
A while back (in another lifetime, but I digress), I tried Body-for-LIFE. I made it to the two-month mark before I gave up in one day because I woke up exhausted from running on empty the day before. I had worked hard, lifting weights, eating carefully prepared meals, and I had been really seeing results, but I blew it off after one bad night when I couldn't eat when I needed to, and woke up feeling like hammered crap the next day, and decided the best cure was to order a pizza. I remember that day vividly, for some reason. I also remember before that day, when my friends and co-workers remarked on my toned arms. I want to try it again, and really complete it this time. That's what this is all about.
The first time I did BFL, I didn't take a proper before picture. As I type this, I am squeezed into a torn up sports bra and a pair of jogging shorts, waiting for Steve (my fiance) to get off the phone so he can take my before pictures. I am going to do this. I am putting it all out there. If I can't do a 12 week program to get my body back in order, to love and care for myself like I try my hardest to love and care for my son and my fiance, then--well, no, there just is NO other option. 12 weeks are going to go by, whether or not I do this. Do I really want to have done nothing in this time when I feel so horrible about my body, about what I've done to myself?
I am afraid to talk too much about food in front of other people, in case they are thinking about what a fatty I am.
Clothes are running tight on me, even my big ones.
I nicknamed Andrew (my son), "green bean", and when I call him that, I wonder if people think that all I think about is food.
When I eat in front of other people, I berate myself and imagine them berating me as well for thinking I could eat when I am the size of a house.
I am so afraid someone will call me fat when I cross the street in public.
I work at the local YMCA, and I feel like such a hypocrite for working there and being so big.
I compare myself (always unfavorably) with other women, especially other mothers who aren't big, like me.
I'm scared to be active and moving in front of others, in case I look like a rabid water buffalo.
And on and on, ad nauseum.
So, as part of my being accountable to myself, I am starting the Body-for-LIFE for women plan this Monday, August 17th. I wrote up a contract for myself, like the book suggests (thank you, Pamela Peeke), I have done the written exercises as I have come across them. I just came back from the grocery store for my first food run for this new lifestyle. Ground up turkey (hmmm, ok), fruit, smaller potatoes (it's going to take some getting use to with these smaller, correct-sized portions), cottage cheese, and on and on. I also went to Play-It-Again Sports and purchased some adjustable dumbells to work out with--I'm terrified to try lifting weights at the local Y, when I would need the pictures in the book to learn how to lift, and I'd be slow, and, well, I'd be more comfortable starting out here at home, on my own, at first.
I am also going to write about my hard work and exercise, my eating, my thinking, and whatever else. Right here, and also in a journal I bought for the occasion. It is on like Donkey Kong, honey. If I don't do this, if I don't do this NOW, I am in deep shit. Really.
Pre Body-for-LIFE measurements
bust: 43"
upper arm: 13.5"
waist: 43" (!)
abdomen: 44.5"
butt: 45.5" (shit, Jennifer Lopez ain't got nothin' on me)
thigh: 28"
calf: 15.5"
Before picture coming tomorrow. In a weird, sick, morbid way, I am off to have a last night of debauchery and sick-mindedness, with a 20 ouncer of Coke and a bag of Dove milk chocolate bars, in front of some Battlestar Galactica (kick ass show, by the way). I feel like if I really wallow in this nasty way of eating that I have been living in for the past 10 or so years, then I will feel gnarly and will be even more willing to engage in this new way of life. That, and there's a little whisper of panic in my gutt at the all the upheaval and change. Yeah, part of this accountability bit is going to be about being honest, even when it's not pretty. Especially when it's not pretty.
I'm coming back here tomorrow with some before pictures. This will be real. It won't be pretty, and I'm (for once) not going to apologize about it. See you tomorrow.
I wasn't always fat, and I think I have spent considerable time and energy convincing myself that I didn't look that bad. After a while I think I got in the habit of only looking at myself from the chest up, never looking at my upper arms, looking in a full length mirror from way far away, and convincing myself that I was still thin. Well, maybe not thin, but just a little...thick. Not thin, but just a little fat. Ok, a bit fat, but not really fat. Ok, fuck you, I'm fat, but I'm not REALLY fat. Right?
I eat what I want, and sometimes I eat when I don't really want to. Ok, a lot of times I eat more than I want to. I eat when I'm upset, angry, frustrated, bored. I eat to reward myself, to make myself feel better, to celebrate, to do all kinds of things. Meanwhile, I don't like being active. I like to think of myself as graceful and physically lovely in a fleeting deer kind of way. Except I can't bound and leap like a deer. And I don't like to run (I have never been built for either speed or distance). I fantasize about being able to move, to run, to do active things, but in reality I've come to the point where it is getting hard to get around. I can totally go up stairs and down stairs, get in and out of cars and stuff like that, but running around with my two-year old is a lesson in humility (or humiliation). It's hard to be an involved parent when your kid wants to run around and play and you peter out after about 10 yards. I can feel my body moving in all sorts of ways that don't mean fitness. You know, kind of like your body keeps moving after you stop. Ooooh yeah.
So I am going to try--no wait, I am going to DO something about it. I have tried things in the past, and that was all basically bullshit. I have tried Weight Watchers, the Zone, going vegetarian, LA Fitness, more Weight Watchers, chitosan, metabolife (and these were taken back in the day when ephedra was still in them--wasn't that a wild ride.), smoking, even taking laxatives or epsom salts a few times (if you are curious, don't bother wasting your time on such a horrible thing to do to yourself), and even more things that I can vaguely recall. All of this experimentation started when I was in my early 20s. I put on a few pounds, I tried various things to get them off, basically everything except eating less and exercising more. I gave up on those pounds and acquired more. I started to get big when I was about 23, and have grown even more since then.
Right now, I am 5'5", and I weight 190 pounds.
I recently went on vacation with my fiance and our son, to visit my parents. No, my mom never said a word, but our vacation pictures sure said a lot. They said: HOLY SHIT, HONEY, YOU ARE FAT. At least, that's what I saw.
A while back (in another lifetime, but I digress), I tried Body-for-LIFE. I made it to the two-month mark before I gave up in one day because I woke up exhausted from running on empty the day before. I had worked hard, lifting weights, eating carefully prepared meals, and I had been really seeing results, but I blew it off after one bad night when I couldn't eat when I needed to, and woke up feeling like hammered crap the next day, and decided the best cure was to order a pizza. I remember that day vividly, for some reason. I also remember before that day, when my friends and co-workers remarked on my toned arms. I want to try it again, and really complete it this time. That's what this is all about.
The first time I did BFL, I didn't take a proper before picture. As I type this, I am squeezed into a torn up sports bra and a pair of jogging shorts, waiting for Steve (my fiance) to get off the phone so he can take my before pictures. I am going to do this. I am putting it all out there. If I can't do a 12 week program to get my body back in order, to love and care for myself like I try my hardest to love and care for my son and my fiance, then--well, no, there just is NO other option. 12 weeks are going to go by, whether or not I do this. Do I really want to have done nothing in this time when I feel so horrible about my body, about what I've done to myself?
I am afraid to talk too much about food in front of other people, in case they are thinking about what a fatty I am.
Clothes are running tight on me, even my big ones.
I nicknamed Andrew (my son), "green bean", and when I call him that, I wonder if people think that all I think about is food.
When I eat in front of other people, I berate myself and imagine them berating me as well for thinking I could eat when I am the size of a house.
I am so afraid someone will call me fat when I cross the street in public.
I work at the local YMCA, and I feel like such a hypocrite for working there and being so big.
I compare myself (always unfavorably) with other women, especially other mothers who aren't big, like me.
I'm scared to be active and moving in front of others, in case I look like a rabid water buffalo.
And on and on, ad nauseum.
So, as part of my being accountable to myself, I am starting the Body-for-LIFE for women plan this Monday, August 17th. I wrote up a contract for myself, like the book suggests (thank you, Pamela Peeke), I have done the written exercises as I have come across them. I just came back from the grocery store for my first food run for this new lifestyle. Ground up turkey (hmmm, ok), fruit, smaller potatoes (it's going to take some getting use to with these smaller, correct-sized portions), cottage cheese, and on and on. I also went to Play-It-Again Sports and purchased some adjustable dumbells to work out with--I'm terrified to try lifting weights at the local Y, when I would need the pictures in the book to learn how to lift, and I'd be slow, and, well, I'd be more comfortable starting out here at home, on my own, at first.
I am also going to write about my hard work and exercise, my eating, my thinking, and whatever else. Right here, and also in a journal I bought for the occasion. It is on like Donkey Kong, honey. If I don't do this, if I don't do this NOW, I am in deep shit. Really.
Pre Body-for-LIFE measurements
bust: 43"
upper arm: 13.5"
waist: 43" (!)
abdomen: 44.5"
butt: 45.5" (shit, Jennifer Lopez ain't got nothin' on me)
thigh: 28"
calf: 15.5"
Before picture coming tomorrow. In a weird, sick, morbid way, I am off to have a last night of debauchery and sick-mindedness, with a 20 ouncer of Coke and a bag of Dove milk chocolate bars, in front of some Battlestar Galactica (kick ass show, by the way). I feel like if I really wallow in this nasty way of eating that I have been living in for the past 10 or so years, then I will feel gnarly and will be even more willing to engage in this new way of life. That, and there's a little whisper of panic in my gutt at the all the upheaval and change. Yeah, part of this accountability bit is going to be about being honest, even when it's not pretty. Especially when it's not pretty.
I'm coming back here tomorrow with some before pictures. This will be real. It won't be pretty, and I'm (for once) not going to apologize about it. See you tomorrow.
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