So I'm sick of being fat.
I've really been trying to get the eating under control, and I've been trying to be much more active.
I'm putting the foot down today. I had oatmeal and a cheese stick for breakfast, and a grilled chicken and swiss, 3 mozzarella sticks and a med. curly fries from Arby's (I know...that was a horrible lunch. Tomorrow is another day, however), a cheese stick for a snack, and a spoonful of egg noodles and some roast beef for supper.
After supper, I went to the walking track over by the community college. One time around is a mile, and I went two times around. The first time around, I went the direction that's mostly downhill. I actually ran probably 1/2 of it, and not even the whole downhill parts, but some of the uphill and flat parts, too. I even almost kept up with the cute boys who were running. I don't think I'm made to run, though, just because I'm so short-legged. I'm going to do it anyway, though, even if it hurts. The second time around I went the mostly uphill way and just walked pretty fast. I've come to the point where I don't care what people think about me. I don't care if people are laughing at the lard ass barrelling down the track at them, because it's about ME now. It's not about THEM. I just crank my music, jam to the Stones, and crank it out.
So...tomorrow I'm NOT going to eat out, just see what I can whip up at home. I've also decided that I like celery and peanut butter, which I did not like at all before, but we had it as a snack at summer school, and I retried it, and now I like it. It's a carb-friendly snack with lots of bulk and just a few carbs. It's totally doable. AND it fills me up pretty well, too.
I'm babbling now, but I need to be recommitted to this. I need to cut the carbs again. I think I just might have to buy the cheapy diet soda so I can get my sweet fix every day.
Okay. I'm done. Wish me luck. I'm going to be doing some sort of moving EVERY day, whether I go to the track or just do something here with the exercise ball and the medicine ball and weights.
I'm committed. We can try to get pregnant in seventy pounds. And probably seventy thousand dollars from Ry's perspective. *sighs*
I'm off to eat...nothing.