I gave in to the Christmas Fats

I made a decision when it came to what I now call "The Christmas Fats". I decided not to deprive myself of candy and desserts, and let myself eat what I wanted. I knew that I would gain weight, but that I would easily re-lose the extra weight after the fact, so I wasn't worried. It was an interesting experiment and I'm glad I did it. Without thinking, I ate less than I had the year before, by quite a bit, but still felt totally disgusting after the fact. I felt heavy and like my intestines were full of lead, which was a horrible feeling, and one I will go to great lengths to avoid in the future.

The Christmas Fats graciously donated twelve pounds to my body, but I am proud to say that all twelve of those pounds are gone again. They were Christmas guests, and they have vacated the premises. I will not be inviting them back next year.

When my cousin Alex, who has always been thin and in great shape, came back from Germany weighing twenty pounds more than she ever had, she made this statement that I thought was funny at the time, but didn't understand: "It's not MY fat!" After the Christmas Fats staked their claim on me, however, I understood Alex's logic for the first time. It wasn't MY fat! It felt weird and unnatural, and I knew it wasn't here to stay. I was just holding it temporarily. And now I'm back down to 100 pounds lighter than my heaviest weight. And I had to buy new pants!! Here they are:



I shopped at the Salvation Army because I knew I wouldn't be wearing these pants for too long. I will be frequenting the thrift shops until I am in the healthiest size I can be, at which point I'll shell out the big bucks for pants. You know, twenty-five whole dollars! I'm a big spender, I know!

Little victories take flight

As a person who was once vastly overweight, I worry about things that most people probably don't think about... like whether I'll fit in an airplane seat without spilling over onto the people next to me. I realize that I'm smaller than I was, but I still worry about that stuff, so on Wednesday when I flew to Omaha to visit my friend Kelli, I was pleasantly surprised when I got into my seat.

Every time I've flown for the past ten years, I have had to pull the seatbelt out all the way and it barely buckled around my giant bulging stomach area. Once I was in, I would tuck in my arms and sit tight, trying not to move so as not to bother the person next to me by entering their space. It was mortifying, and every time I had that experience, I would vow to lose all the extra weight and never feel that way again, but I haven't actually done anything about it until now.

Imagine how great I felt on Wednesday when this was the case:


What an incredible push to keep going!