I’m petrified of my scale. I can’t even go near it. That’s why you haven’t had an update in a while. I feel mammoth. Like I’ve blown up. Like I weigh 700 pounds. So my morale is down too. I’m not sure if it’s the weight that’s making me sad or if my sadness is making me gain weight. It’s a bit of a catch 22. Nevertheless, the blues are here (preferably not to stay). It seems like every time I go to exercise, I start it off by bawling my eyes out. I bawl and then after three minutes of Jillian Michaels screaming at me to do one more push up, I suck it up and get down to work. And then I feel amazing afterward.
This week I’m going on an uber diet. My sister recommended it to me. It’s called The Last 15: A Weightloss Breakthrough. Here’s the low down: chow down on veggies, have three or four fruits, stock up on protein and eat *gasp* one carb a day. One. Dear lord. This is gonna be rough. Luckily they give you two cheats in a week: either wine or chocolate. I think I’m going the wine route.
Give me a couple of weeks of this diet and working out like a fiend and I’ll hop on the scale again.
