Thin by 35. That was my goal. Only I turned 35 on Wednesday, and I am not thin. Thinner than when I started, but the same size I was last summer, give a few extra pounds. Am I disappointed? Yes. Do I have excuses? Yes. Are some of them valid? Oh hell yes, I can validate and rationalize anything. But I’ve decided that I am stopping the rationalizations and starting whole hog again.
I have a fill on Monday that I am not really looking forward to. My doctor had to drain my lap-band over several months because I was throwing up too much and suffering from acid reflux. I’m happy to say that got under control, but then I started binge eating. I was consumed by the thought of what I was going to eat next and when I was going to eat. Cookies, chips, candy, ice cream and frosting all went down a little too easy and I stopped doing my protein shakes. I ate almost as much dinner as the rest of my family, and though I limited bread, pasta, rice, cereal and other “carbs”, I was still taking in more than I put out. Speaking of putting out, I hardly exercise anymore because of my newly diagnosed Fibromyalgia and my possible rheumatoid Arthritis and hypothyroidism that leaves me too tired and sore (more excuses) not to exercise.
So that’s it. I’m sick of the crap that I have been allowing myself to do. I’m back on the plan. I’m going to water walk in my pool at my apartment complex until it is too cold, and then I’ll switch to the Y. I’m going to follow my prescribed diet, or maybe even inquire about getting the gastric sleeve. Thin by 35? No. But thin by the end of 35? I’m going to try.
