POSITION OF STRENGTH

(Please read that in your biggest monster truck rally announcer voice complete with echos)

I put yesterday's crazy lady to bed. I've been thinking about WHY I am so easily rattled after making such progress and coming so far on this weight loss journey.

It is because I am a competitive bitch and there is no one in the world harder on me than myself when I don't feel like I'm "DUH...WINNING" to quote Charlie Sheen.

Since my "surgiversary" (still hate that word but you still can't knock its convenience and appropriateness! Although I'm not saving any time by typing it out, plus a long explanation of how much I hate that word, every time I use it, haha. And yet, here I go again...) I have felt displeased and dissatisfied with my efforts. I am *not* where I want to be in terms of weight loss. I am *not* where I want to be in terms of exercise and physical condition. I am *not* where I want to be in terms of what I eat. And this smoking thing? Really, how freaking ridiculous can you possibly be??

With me unhappy with my current efforts, I am ripe for the pickings for feeling insecure around a new boyfriend. I *hate* this loose skin. Ugh! Wouldn't trade it for all the weight for NOTHING, that's for sure. But that don't mean I don't hate it, baby. There are times when I look at it and think, "Oh, that's not too bad." I can usually get happily side-tracked by all these BONES I've discovered in my body. Or fun things like being able to circle my hands with thumbs touching almost all the way up to my mid-thigh! My hip bones and chest bones can keep me amused and proud for hours. So the skin is tolerable, even if I hate it. But, having naked time with someone new, who you actually want to be turned on by your body rather than terrorized...well, that invites some trepidation.

Which brings me to the POSITION OF STRENGTH (echo...echo...echo). I decided that in order to sort out my own feelings of failure and inadequacy about my slowed-down progress toward my goals, I, uhhh, need to speed up and make progress toward my goals. Revolutionary. Self-help book tour to follow. I'm happy to sign them for you!

Because let me tell you, if I'm busting my butt and making progress toward my goals again...well, I just defy anyone to try to make me feel badly about myself. Because I've got some choice words for you that will roll off my tongue pretty easily, buster.

See, that's where I decided it's really the crazy lady in my head that's been calling the shots here. Oh boy, can I self-flagellate with the best of 'em. Do you know how much I *hate* being *this close* from my goal and not making it? Do you know how much I hate being this close to goal and seeing that, oh, this isn't really what I want - I've got a ways to go - and STILL not be making that first goal? Crazy lady lets me beat myself black and blue over it (figuratively, not literally, haha) but doesn't throw my ass into gear and get the job done.

Wow, that's like 57 paragraphs to tell you I re-activated my YMCA membership yesterday. BAHAHAHA!! Uhhh, I could have saved us all some trouble by titling the post "I finally reactivated my YMCA membership" and then posting "I used the treadmill for 35 minutes."

The end.

BAHAHA! Oh, that's not how I roll, and you know it. I've still got another 57 paragraphs in me, see below.

POSITION OF STRENGTH: Immediately after work, I grabbed my daughter and took her to the Y, reactivated that membership and got my bootie on the treadmill. Here is what was so EXCITING!!! Back in the day, I was PUSHING it to speed walk at 3.5 mph. I may have to do some research to see when I was last at the Y using the treadmill regularly.

Oh, 3.5 mph...how slow you are for a little speed demon such as myself. Wow! I consistently had that puppy at 4.5 mph and above, generally fast walking at 4.8 mph and here's the thing...RUNNING a few intervals (of just a couple minutes each) at 5.4 mph! ME! Hahaha, it is has been a LIFETIME since I ran. And boy, did I have to ease myself into it yesterday, because...why don't I run? I do not like to look stupid, that's why. (SRSLY, what a joke that is, because in many other areas in my life I have *no qualms* about looking stupid. Who was just limboing at the front counter in the office yesterday? Uh, me, that's who.) But exercising - wow, there's where all my self-confidence and self-esteem goes to die, because before this girl starts running on a treadmill, she is surreptitiously looking around to make sure no one is watching. Then she's easing into it. Then she's watching to make sure boobs and belly aren't bouncing too much. And you can bet she doesn't let go of the bar, because this girl ain't gonna fall on the treadmill in front of everyone.

It's the same reason I can't bear to go over and work out with the free weights, even though what I really want to do is work out with the free weights. Someday.

Oops - losing my POSITION OF STRENGTH here! I *KILLED* it on the treadmill yesterday! 35 minutes (incl 5 min cool down) and 2.5 miles. So I had a nice pace going. I played around with my speed a fair amount. I made myself run one three-minute interval. I feel like a GANGSTA when I finished. (Why a gangsta? Oh, who knows.)

Alli has already texted me asking if we can go to the Y tonight. I texted back, "Be ready." My stuff is already laid out waiting for me. Oh, and I can walk today, haha. I feel it in my hips, but not badly.

Here's a new trick my sleeve and body are using to get me to stop eating too much. Headaches. This morning I had a hard-boiled egg, which I felt compelled to eat since I crushed it, hot, in my purse this morning while FLYING to the bus, which was patiently waiting for me at the corner. What I really wanted, though, was the Morning Star Farms veggie sausage I also brought. So I ate both. And have been blinded by a headache ever since. My body will do any number of things to try and get my attention, haha. "STOP OVEREATING," it says. "We hate it when you do that. See?"