09.02.09
Those Nasty Reminders
245.6
Diet "experts" always tell you to "picture yourself thin."
Well that's something I've never had a problem doing. My problem is I forget just how fat I've gotten. I don't think I'm as bad off as I am. So in spite of my best efforts to hide from the camera these days, someone always manages a sneak attack. And I get a nasty shock that jerks me back into weight loss mode.
This is the latest one.
This is me playing harp for Nancy while she got her piercing at Four Quarters Farm's Body Tribal weekend. Words cannot describe the absolute horror I felt when I saw this. Yet another rude, shocking reminder that I LOOK LIKE SHIT. Holy crap, even my face is starting to look like Gramma Laraway. All I need is a faded floral housecoat, frizzy hair and a few less teeth, and I'M HER.
Good GODS, and I wondered why that guy Jamie didn't want to flirt with me at Body Tribal? What man would? Cripes, even Jim doesn't want to be seen with me anymore.
So I've printed this photo, and put it on my desk where it can inspire me to keep drinking those "delicious" GNC protein shakes instead of going to the wannabe chinese buffet for lunch. It also inspired me to fork over the $104 for the Triple Threat Workout class at the Y, which I attended for the first time last night. 2.5 hours of grueling workout. I'm sore in places I didn't know I had today. Another solemn reminder was watching my fat self in the wall mirrors doing aerobics and weights next to all those buff, skinny bitches. They look at me like "WTF are YOU doing here?." They sneer at me while I struggle to lift that miserable ball into the air with my feet. They hold the door for each other, but let it slam in my face as we're exiting the room. I'm not welcome in their little "club." I suppose they're buff and skinny because they go to that class. Fine, I'll show them.
I've got the Lewes beach Harp weekend on the 11th. The above shot is from 2004. I wasn't exactly skinny then, but it's still horrible what I've done to myself in 5 short years. Every year, I say "next year I'll be thin." And every year, the pictures show an ever fatter me. Nobody's getting me into a bathing suit this year. Sadly, I'll still be hiding under my XL t-shirts. At least I ordered XLs instead of XXLs this year, as further inspiration. That and the XXLs cost $3 more. Just another reason on the long list of WHYs: It's expensive to be fat.
Back on the wagon again.