This realization has tainted all my hard work to date. While I do have good news:
- I have lost 22 pounds and 16 inches off my body
- You can really see the change in my tummy, the one area that really bothered me. (I am so fine with big butt, big thighs, I never had nice legs so who cares, but the horrible double stomach roll that anti-depressants gave me? Yeah that pissed me off. Poor mental health, the gift that keeps on giving.)
- I am getting pretty fit, running miles in about 13 minutes, lifted a 5 gallon keg of beer the other day with ease that made the stock boy get all wide-eyed. Yeah baby!
- I got a super cute dress for Sub Ball and felt really good wearing it, a major first for me.
- I am still wearing my same size 14 jeans. They fit better, but they still fit just fine, 22 pounds and I have not dropped a dress size. I still had to buy my dress in a 16, sure it is way more of a Queen Latifah 16 and a lot less a Roseanne Barr 16, but still, a fricking 16.
- I have no bras that fit and no way to get any…apparently. While the ones I have do not fit well anymore, no combination of cup or band sizes fits any better. I have not gotten any smaller, just different and even more oddly shaped. Simple extraordinary.
- My friends are all within 10-12 pounds of their goal weights and looking at becoming lifetime members. I will have to lose another 40, yup you read that right 40 pounds before I can get there. One gal is super tall, so granted it is not really fair to compare us, but the other gal is my height and she is just doing so much better than I am. She is also training for a marathon (these women are so wonderful and such an inspiration lest you think I am a sour old friend-hater) and therefore gets the added advantage of eating more points per day than I do. Add in that I am projecting all my other jealousies here such as how one had kids in school so "has her life back"* and their spouses are still in school so they have the back-up/time to do things like find 3 hours a day to run and I am starting to think that I am a terrible person for even feeling this way. So jealous I could spit and green with envy is not a good color on me. I love these women and they are doing so well, and workings o hard, but it is really tough to keep these feelings in check right now.
- I just don't see 140 in my future so the little voice in my head is saying things like "why bother?"
If it were not for the Fat Fighters skits of Little Britain fame constantly running through my head, this would have been dead in the water long ago…
*We all know that is not true, but my bummed out little brain loves to say unfair things like that.