It's effing cold. It was eight degrees this morning. The only thing allowed to be "8" is this girl. Oh yeah, that's right, I'm a size 8. That's a number I haven't seen since the 5th grade. And no, I am NOT kidding. 4 years ago I was rocking the big (BIG) 2-0. Did you know that there is a pant size TWENTY?
The owner of the gym I frequent told me recently that I was looking skinny. I have never, EVER, thought that someone would use “skinny” to describe me unless it was preceded by “not,” “un” or “absolutely the opposite of.”
I went on my first diet in the 5th grade. Not only did I feel chubbier than the girls, sometimes I felt chubbier than a few of the boys. Having no concept of healthy nutrition or balanced exercise, I was doomed to fail my self-imposed “diet” of carrot sticks, iceberg lettuce and reduced fat Fig Newtons. I don’t remember how long my willpower lasted, 3 days, a week, 12 hours? It’s all relative; the point is at the age of 10 I began my long, sad and sometime dark relationship with food, my weight and the phrase “plus size.”
The last 4 years have NOT been easy and I have hit many plateaus, obstacles and setbacks. I am most proud that I did not give up on myself.
And now lets look at cute pictures of me in my size 8!
Good Luck to Ada, tomorrow on The Biggest Loser. She totally kicks ass and has jiggly arms like me!!! I heart her.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment