Yes. I’m serious.
Let me tell you why.
Yesterday marked 16 weeks since I began “Operation Kick Sheniqua’s Ass”.
I haven’t been this dedicated to my health since 2006 when I lost over 70 pounds and culminated that journey with a tummy tuck to get rid of my excess stomach skin. It feels good to be in this place again. The place where I think before I overeat and I work out before I decide to watch TV for hours.
However – I still ain’t perfect.
Of the 16 weigh-ins, I have gained 3 times – each ½ pound. Yesterday was #3. I gained ½ pound.
Surprisingly, I wasn’t even pissed. I didn’t eat like shit the rest of the day because “I might as well take advantage of the gain”.
I mean it’s hard to act shocked about the gain. It’s hard to be pissed about something I knew was coming, you know? An entire bag of Cheetos really isn’t meant to be eaten in one day. Pop tarts aren’t really supposed to be breakfast – lunch AND dinner. Not making myself get on the treadmill doesn’t work as well as actually getting on it.
But 16 weeks is a long time. The healthy shit gets old – and hard.
I’m human and I start to slack off and think I can get away with it.
There is nothing like a gain this close to bikini season to re-rev my engine. Seriously – that gain was what I needed. I *detest* noting a gain in my spreadsheet. I *abhor* writing a gain on my huge posterboard in the workout room almost as much as I hate P words. I *hate* that I’m I am now 1 lb off of my goal weight for this week.
So yah, I showed a gain at 7am yesterday. The rest of the day after that was stellar. I ate when hungry. I ate under my calories. I no sooner walked in my front door before I was on the treadmill running my ½ lb. heavier ass off.
The ½ pound is gone today.
But it ain’t over. It ain’t time to rest.
I ordered a custom made mint chevron dress from Etsy this week and I have dreams of what it will look like come June when I have a family wedding shower where no one in the room weighs more than 110 lbs.
I have visions of riding on the back of Rambo’s Harley with a blinged out belt that is required because without it my skull embroidered pants will fall off.
I have plans to wear my frayed cut off denim shorts with a white tank and my ivory cowboy boots on a date with Rambo.
I have a desire to be a runner again. A five-mile-a-dayer. A sweaty mess. A hot tomale.
I have plans to not be the fat one in the family.
I have plans to not feel less than simply because of a number on a scale.
Do not worry, my little Skittles. I will get there.
This little gain was just what I needed to kick my ass back into gear.
To renew the warrior spirit that is within me.
To care more about how I look and feel than how good food tastes.
Sheniqua should be scared out of her damn mind.
Her days are numbered.
15 down. 16 to go. I soooo got this.
63 workouts out of 120 possible days for the year
440 minutes/50.5 hours worked out for the year
19053.5 calories burned for the year
163.3 miles done – 236.7 to go to meet 400 mile goal
16 weeks in – should be 16 lbs lost – currently 15 lost – 1 lb short of goal