Steady Incline

5:30am. Post pee. Pre shower. There it was, sitting in the corner of the bathroom. Black . Shiny. Staring me down. Tempting me to step on and see the results. The results of living, eating and boozing in Chicago for the past 4 months. I got up the courage, clicked it on with my toe and took the step.

One small step for men, a giant leap for women.

They say the scale doesn't lie. And, to my dismay, I'm pretty sure that the fancy do-dad one at my parents' house doesn't either. Needless to say, it wasn't what I wanted to see on an early Monday morning. The three numbers that glared at me in neon blue were not the three numbers I have become accustomed to. Nor were they any three numbers that I have seen together from the scale in...never. I am at my heaviest. My heaviest ever.

Although the number on the scale shocked me, I can't say that I'm really all that shocked that I've gained weight. I have noticed things getting "soft". My jeans, a little tighter. My swim suit bottoms, providing a little less coverage. My boobs, totally swollen and huge (perhaps there is a perk!). I just didn't realize HOW MUCH weight. We're looking at about 8lbs since I've moved. And I know why (don't we all?!?): I've slacked both with food & the gym. And I gave myself excuses to not feel bad for it. Well, at least excuses during the moment of consumption.

i live in denial. I know that eating cookies is not a good thing. But I tell myself that I can have one - or three* - because I never get the opportunity eat cookies. Or I'll go out to lunch and instead of getting a salad, I have to get my favorite dish - because I never get to go to [insert restaurant] so I have to get my favorite meal. Or I'll eat the fries - because (you guessed it), I never get to have the fries.

Sad face.

The truth of the matter is this: crap food surrounds me at work. And if by some chance it isn't around, I got into a bad habit of hitting up the vending machine. And since I don't buy sweets or chips for the apartment the cravings tend to be 10x worse when I'm out and about. Perhaps that fuels the "but I never" mentality.

Oh but there are others too, the "day is shot, so I might as well continue the gluten train" mentality, or the "I have plans (dinner/drinks) later so I might as well start now", or the "its the weekend" mentality.** Whatever fits my mood that day really.

In addition to all of that - she types as she waves her arms around in silent disgust - I have also convinced myself that I haven't had a chance to establish a good workout routine. Granted it took me 2 months to actually get a gym membership [insert moving excuse here]. Then, when I finally did, I worked out several days a week for 2weeks. Then I started to work out a couple of days every two weeks. And its gone down since then.

The most shocking thing of all is that when I finally make it to the gym, and its all said and done, I.LOVE.IT. I love it. I get energized and plan out the rest of my week around the gym.

But, I am very good at convincing myself to not make it to the gym. Its not my fault that I don't have a stable gym buddy [excuse]. And that I'm not used to my new gym's layout [excuse]. And that it rains [excuse]. Or its sunny [excuse]. Or that the commute makes me crabby [excuse]. Or that I don't have cute work out clothes [excuse]. And my gym shoes are old [excuse]. Or that I'm hungry, tired, want to watch TV [excuse, excuse, excuse].

Apparently, I've just been a whiny bitch about it for the past 4 months.

I've been trying - loosely - to turn it around. The plan now is to actually try. I'm usually a pretty fit and sensible eater. I need to get back to that. Fast.

Luckily the bridesmaid dress for the wedding this weekend still fits.

Unluckily I will be surrounded by delicious food and cocktails. Not to mention its a holiday weekend.

I think I'll start trying next Tuesday.

[EXCUSE]***



*Confession: The 3 cookies are more like 5 some days
**That one is a killer
***And probably one I'll stick to this week