Nothing Tastes as Good as Thin Feels

I used to have a very visceral reaction to this statement. It sent me over the edge for reasons that I could not fathom.  After all, I can (mostly) live with “pick my battles” or “agree to disagree”, why not this one?

I think it’s because, for the longest time, I would have sacrificed 10-20 years of my life if I could have just eaten whatever I wanted without any negative repercussions.  I could wax poetic on the joys of Little Debbie snack cakes, which chips are the best, and how luscious hot apple ANYTHING is with rich, vanilla ice cream.  Needless to say, that’s a junkie’s point of view on food.

Apparently this was a before statement. Before I started gaining weight I had lost.  Before I was even sure I was at my “goal weight.”  Since gaining, depending on the day, anywhere between 20-30 pounds, my view on this statement has changed.  There has been NOTHING in the past 6-9 months I have enjoyed eating so much that I would prefer it over my “thin” weight.  My body, which was classified as an “S” (curvy) immediately returned to an “A” on  In fact, so much of an A that they can’t recommend pants for me.  My measurements don’t mesh with ANY clothing manufacturer.  I have become, for all intents and purposes, a rhombus.  The widest part?  My hips/thighs.

Adding insult to injury, I actually retained water last week.  Seriously!  My cankles were swollen.  My base assumption, gaining the weight had negatively affected my blood pressure.  Great.  In one stupid season I managed to negatively affect my health and my appearance with mindless eating.  It was time to set this ship right.

Over the past week, I have rededicated myself to the joys of drinking water (thank you Julie for the constant reminder), tracking my food, and eating more whole foods.  I feel better.  My thighs are starting not to touch again (although I’ll never have that Barbie chasm) and my saddlebags are less… baggy. I’ve started to lose the weight I put on.  These are, as Martha says, good things.

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