The State of the Kiester

I think Broke Week is making me fat.

Or keeping me fat.  Or, here, here’s the politically correct version for you:  My efforts at fitting into my pants and feeling more comfortable in my own body and in getting into shape are being compromised by too much potato soup.

The first three weeks of the month I go to the grocery store every week, and the refrigerator is always filled with vegetables and salads and sliced turkey and fruit and baby carrots, and then the month winds down and the grocery budget dwindles and I start thinking “We have plenty of food, I should just stretch these potatoes and all this butter to last another ten days”.  Then I feel guilty because I start making dinners with little to no meat, which my husband is not a huge fan of, and so I figure if I’m making potato soup for dinner I’d like it to be the most delicious potato soup ever and that’s how I end up eating two servings of (admittedly very delicious) soup made with a shocking amount of butter, cheese, and bacon.  And then I weigh myself and even though it feels like I am working SO HARD the scale hasn’t budged at all from the week before.

So, lesson learned.  When we run out of lettuce and turkey, go buy more.  Because while I can now button my jeans, they are still rearranging my internal organs, and the idea of taking two kids into the Target dressing room to try on new jeans sounds like…not a fun time.

I went on my run this morning and I thought about the cake I had eaten this week, the extra scoops of ice cream I probably shouldn’t have had, all the handfuls of chocolate chips.  The fact that I couldn’t run Monday because K Dub had a doctor’s appointment.  The fact that this time around losing weight is really hard.  The fact that the last go around, if I was trying this hard I would have already lost ten pounds and mostly so far I haven’t lost any pounds.  (like, one. Ish.) And then I came to a simple realization.  The truth is this:  I can give up, or I can fight.

And right now?  This time? Today? I choose to fight.

 

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3 Responses

  1. I have been having this EXACT same problem. After my first kid, if I had been running SIX DAYS A WEEK like I am now and NEVER EVER DRINKING A SODA OR EATING A FRENCH FRY EVER, like I am now, I would be teeny tiny. Now, the scale is moving at a snail’s pace. It stinks. But I just said to myself this morning– If I give up now, the weight I have lost will come back and I’ll have to start all over again at some point. So I just have to tough it out. Good luck!

  2. A great reminder. Just keep fighting. For me, sometime just the fact that there is no upward movement has to be winning, and then….keep fighting.

  3. delving into my psyche a little bit, I have a bit of a compulsion to finish everything to the last drop, so I feel virtuous eating scraps and leftovers and decadent when I go shopping for groceries. but you’re right- I need frigging fresh fruits and vegetables in the house! there’s no virtue in eating crap! aaaaugh! (thanks for this cathartic moment)

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