Fat pants.

Today, I can say that I hate my life.

After what I would describe as an epic workout last night (mostly just because I worked out at all), I went to Walmart and bought a digital scale. I was looking for some encouragement, so my thought process here was that I would know exactly where I was in my 'journey'. Also, we currently have an old-school dial scale, so this one will help in taking the guess work out of what one actually weighs. And to be sure it would actually weigh me, I picked the one that went up to 400 pounds. Just in case. After I slept in this morning, I got on it in hopes that it would give me good news and that I would be so pleased with the progress I have made that I would feel free to eat a large pastry-filled breakfast.

I was not pleased. The scale gods hate me. It revealed to me that not only was I a hefty girl, I was more hefty than I thought. 190 pounds, folks. One hundred and ninety freaking pounds. So you know what I did? I kicked the scale.

I bought a brand new $27 scale and then today, I kicked it. Against the wall. It has to be a liar. This piece of crap is obviously defective, there is no way in blue hell that I weigh that much. It must be at least 5 pounds off. So, I grab a 5 lb free weight and drop it on the scale. Thud. Display reads: 5 pounds. ARRRGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

Oh, God. I hate my life. I hate my freaking life. Back to bed I went.

Now mind you, it was 10 o'clock and I'm back in bed, crying like an idiot over a (large) number. My mom texts me reminding me of obligations with my sister so up to the shower I went. Showered, calmed down, cup of coffee and scale again. I know better than to weigh after showering and putting anything in my body, but holding out hope here, I thought maybe it would magically change. 191.4. Off to the closet I go. I know you know where this is going.

So now, to make matters even more ridiculous, the pant gods decide that today is not my day with them either.

My jeans didn't fit. Not only did I get to come to the understanding that I am rapidly approaching 200 pounds, now I get to wear my almost-too-tight fat pants. I burst into tears. Not just a trickle of soap-opera tears, but Hoover Dam tears. It was ugly. And it scared my husband a little. He tried his best to console me, but it was a loss. I was a loss today. 

Never before have I felt so defeated. I have nothing to show for my weight gain. I am not on a steroid for some kind of illness. I am not a new mother, or a mother at all for that matter. I did not just go through an epic hardship in my life. I am just fat. Fat with nothing to show for it and fat with NO excuse. I have also worked hard for ten days, at least 10 solid hours of working out, 5 of those total cardio and what good has it done? Defeat set in like a fog, my heart was heavy and it was a miserable morning.

My afternoon consisted of a lot of shopping to console myself with and take my mind off of things. It helped. I guess. But it didn't change what the scale said.

So, the question is, what do I do now? Where to go from here? The answer is that my diet has to change. I went into this with the anticipation that I wouldn't have to change what I eat if I'm working out hard enough. There is not enough work out in the world to eat like I want to. So, tomorrow I am going to start doing some serious calorie counting. Because I hate the way I felt this morning when I got on that stupid scale. Because I hate the way I look in pictures. And because my husband deserves a sexy woman to come home to (I figure I can at least hire some girl that he can come home to while I'm at the gym). 

It is ok to be discouraged when you want something real bad and have a set-back. But it's not ok to give up and quit. 

It didn't take 10 days to put it on, so it's not going to take 10 days to take it off. That's a reality check.

Somebody smarter than me said that it takes 4 weeks for you to notice a change, 8 weeks for your friends and family to notice and 12 weeks for the rest of the world to start to see a change.

So here's a list of things to re-motivate me, to work for, to be healthy for, to get up and go to the gym for when I get done typing this post. It's for me, but you can read it. : ]

Reasons not to quit:

-to be healthy

-to be around for my children and grandchildren someday, to be able to play with them without being too tired to do so

-to be attractive to my husband again

-to be attractive to myself again

-to wear a swimsuit without embarrassment

-to wear a size single-digit pair of pants

-to lose enough weight to buy new scrubs

-to have a flat stomach

-to be motivation for my family

-to be a before and after picture on Pinterest : ]

-to have more energy

-to not feel huge when i put on my winter coat and get bundled up

-to not feel my love handles pinch each other.

-to not have my thighs chafe when they rub together. ha!

-to have a gap between my thighs (now, this is really wishful thinking, but a girl can hope)

-to not be a wilder beast at my ten-year reunion

-to not dread the awful West Texas heat

-to not live a mediocre life and to prove to myself that I am capable of accomplishing something

I'm trying real hard to be motivated enough to go to the gym tonight. I'll let you know how it goes. 

Until tomorrow, I'll still be plump and pissed off. 

Steph