Since I have lost about 13 pounds on WW- I have since quit doing it, I just didn't want to pay for it and I have about 7 lbs to go before "goal weight". Honestly, I could be happy where I am, but I want to reach that goal because I don't like failure.
I am a LOT happier without those 13 lbs than I was with them. Maybe happiness shouldn't be tied to a number on the scale, but mine is, sort of. That number on the scale determines if my jeans will have a muffin top or be a little loose. And you would be lying to yourself if you didn't peacock around if your once too tight jeans became loose.
I feel better about myself when my clothes fit better and my tummy is flatter. I also feel great about myself when I can have the self control to not eat that piece of cake or stuff my face with M&M's.
Self control is not my thing. I just don't have any. It's not easy for me to leave food on my plate or not have a glass of wine, when I want one. This lack of self control can be like a child stomping it's foot saying, "I want that toy!!" in the toy aisle of Target. At some point you have to say to yourself, "It's time to be a grown up." And part of being a grown up is thinking enough about yourself to say, "I can't afford that right now" or "I don't need a piece of cheesecake." Should you always deprive yourself? No. That's how you end up eating an entire box of zebra cakes or going on an outlandish shopping spree.
I can think back to a year and a half ago, when I started running. I had a muffin top over my tempos and wore baggy t-shirts to conceal it. Sure, I had just had a baby, but I didn't care. I started running so I could have runner's legs, and be all sleek and runner like. In my mind, I would look like Skinny Runner
All awesome legs and tan body and stylish running outfits..( not sure where I thought I was getting that tan, but oh well.) I honestly thought that I would look like this after training for ONE 5K. Go ahead, I'll pause while you laugh at me.
Done? Okay good.
SR runs no less than 10 miles a day. EVERY DAY. And I thought I would look like her after a month. A year later, I can now see some awesome definition in my thighs and calves, but it's also covered in a layer of flab that isn't easy to get off. I noticed this week as I was walking into the gym that hey, my legs actually don't look THAT bad. I can definitely see improvement. And so what if that makes me happy? If it gives me some pep in step, then I am all for it.
I got this shirt last year as a gift, and when I tried it on, it looked terrible. Muffin top everywhere and tight in all the WRONG places. I wouldn't even wear it around the house. But I tried it on this morning, and look...
Barely a pouch. I would totally wear this out in public.. or ya know, to the gym. So, maybe it didn't happen in a month. It took a lot of sacrifice and hard work, to get the weight (and fat) off. Sure it would have been easier to not wrangle the kids to the gym. Sure I could have let the mommy guilt take over about half my day being spent getting kids ready for the gym, being at the gym, and then showering after the gym. But I can't let that get in the way of something that makes me feel good about myself.
The number on the scale makes feel better when I put on my clothes, when I am lounging around the house, and makes feel just a little bit sexier for my husband.
Sure I eat what I want to, but sometimes, I do have to sacrifice something to make sure that number doesn't go up. I don't think that's a bad thing.
Sacrificing a piece of cheesecake to make me feel better about myself is a LOT better than eating it and then feeling bad about myself. Like, I said, I don't do well with failure. I do a happy dance with every pound lost on the scale. Because, for me, weight will always be an uphill battle.
Running and working out and being healthy makes me happy, and at the end of the day "Happy Wife equals Happy Life."Or "If Mama Ain't Happy Ain't Nobody Happy." Right??
