It’s been about two weeks since I’ve gotten back into better habits such as: limiting the pasta intake, using the steamer, thinking about what goes in my pie hole, drinking much more water, going to the gym, playing Wii Fit…
While highly illogical, I always envision that I would work out at night and in the morning be so magically slim that I can’t wear pants to work because they’re too baggy.
See, here’s the thing too, I have a reverse body-image-problem… when I think of myself, I see me as Christmas 2007 Stephanie (when I felt like I looked decent) but when I see photos, I’m Photo-of-Which-We-Do-Not-Speak-of 2000 Stephanie.
We do not talk about the photo as I look like the seams of my clothes are going to pop open at any moment; I was in denial that I had to buy larger sized clothes. I should have been buying size 12 or 14 and I was smooshing into an 8. So when I dropped down to an 8, I wrote on the back of the photo “Never Again” I put it on my mirror as a reminder.
Hell lot of good that did. Not that I’m a 12/14 today, in fact, these pants didn’t require wiggling to don, I’m just not close to Christmas 2007.
I know there’s a happy smaller Stephanie hidden in there, she’s probably hiding behind the ice cream… so, knowing I need help, I called… a personal trainer. Plus, how am I planning on hauling all of my stuff around Europe if I can’t do 10 push-ups?
Lament is due to set in around 2 hours as we go through the rigorous embarrassment of pinching my sides to get a BMI, taking the tape around the parts of my body I hate even thinking about and probably passing out on the treadmill.
It’s the right thing to do, I am disappointed that I let “Never Again” come back.
So, around 615pm EST, think of me if your quads start to hurt, for the trainer is probably making me do lunges AND I HATE LUNGES.