Wednesday, October 8, 2008

It's really gonna happen this time.

Dear Fat Ass,

It's me, Amy. You and me, we have a certain love/hate relationship. As in, I hate you for making me love all things not healthy. Despite years of trying you always seem to get the best of me. Cupcakes......... where? I somehow think I can outsmart you (by eating a lot of crap and thinking that you won't remember) but I think that, at 29, I have finally realized that you win, eventually.

I did weight watchers and did really well. I felt good and looked good. I think that the emotional turmoil around me really helped. Some call it the divorce diet. I think that I was just on such a limited income that it was either baby food or Amy food-- the baby food won. So there was no temptation.

Then Parker started eating real food and the battle began again. "What is that, Parker, you want a box of little debbie cakes?" "No mommy" "well maybe you will want them sometime in the near future." So, into the basket they went. And, lo and behold, when the time came that he did want them the box was long gone. And so it went. And the pounds came back on.

Then I joined the gym with my kick-butt friend, Cindy, who MADE me go to the gym at least three or four times a week. I lost weight and felt great. It was the skinniest I had been since college. Then Mikey Poo entered my life. We went to the gym together and things were grand. But, as usual, we got comfortable. We started eating out and talking each other out of going to the gym. We both discontinued our gym memberships when we moved.

But even then, Mike (being the wonderful guy that he is) went out and bought us so really cool equipment. A treadmill, an elliptical, a bicycle. We have a little home gym right in our living room. Do we use it? Heck no. Then we join the Y. Do we go? Heck No. (Actually Mike goes occasionally) We get the Wii Fit. I still use it occasionally, but nowhere near what I should. Meanwhile, I still eat out a lot and eat WAY too many sweets. I can eat icing out of the container, a handful of chips, and wash it down with a big, bad diet coke. See, diet coke..... That's good so that makes the other stuff ok as well, right? WRONG!!!!!!

So this is where we are. I am 60 pounds away from where I want to be. Every time I lose focus, you swoop right in and quickly tell my pants to make me suffer. You are quite good at that. You have also been good at telling other body parts to expand as well. And, while I am glad that all of my bodily organs communicate quite well, I wish that you would keep to yourself in this instance. It would be really nice if you would. But I know better.

However, be prepared. This is about to change. I am joining Weight Watchers next week and am going to start taking at least two to three classes a week at the Y. So, watch out metabolism. You aren't gonna know what to think. The only thing that you organs are gonna be telling each other is "Oh crap. She really means business"
And I really do.