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Abortive Emoness
Oct. 5th, 2009 08:01 pmHad a big damn emo post all written. Then I figured, who gives a shit.
Oct. 5th, 2009
About a month ago I went into Weight Watchers and weighed in at 245. Fat, but better then I had been for a long time. Today I went in and I was at 254. That's pretty much where I was months ago when I joined as part of the SCA invasion.
I'd say that all my hard work was for naught, except I never really worked that hard. That's the whole point really. Weight Watchers is a simple program at its heart and it will work for anyone who follows the program. I haven't been following the program. I haven't been controlling my portions. Hell, by any reasonable measure, I've been eating like a hog. Saturday was especially onerous as I pretty much stuffed my face all day.
I worked hard once upon a time. I was down to 208. 208 was three pounds short of my goal weight. I have no idea how I did it. Hell, I'd be happy to get down to 220, which is merely overweight instead of flat out obese.
You know, if someone had done this to me, I'd have every reason to hate that person. To thwart me from my goals time and time again. To make me feel like shit because of it. To doom me to a life of bitterness and disappointment. They would be my worst enemy.
In a very literal sense I am my own worst enemy.
Yesterday I ran 5k for the CIBC Run for the Cure. It was a slog that I could barely finish. Next week I get to fail the Royal Victoria Half Marathon. It's over four times the distance. I'll be running it with the equivalent of two whole frozen turkeys strapped to my abdomen. As usual, I get to do it alone. There are no rewards waiting for me at the finish line.
Why bother at all? All I've got is the certain knowledge that giving up, while tempting, leads me down an even worse road. But dammit, do all my choices have to be "bad" and "worse"?
Fuck, Birthday-to-Valentines-Suicide-Season hasn't even started yet.
I'd say that all my hard work was for naught, except I never really worked that hard. That's the whole point really. Weight Watchers is a simple program at its heart and it will work for anyone who follows the program. I haven't been following the program. I haven't been controlling my portions. Hell, by any reasonable measure, I've been eating like a hog. Saturday was especially onerous as I pretty much stuffed my face all day.
I worked hard once upon a time. I was down to 208. 208 was three pounds short of my goal weight. I have no idea how I did it. Hell, I'd be happy to get down to 220, which is merely overweight instead of flat out obese.
You know, if someone had done this to me, I'd have every reason to hate that person. To thwart me from my goals time and time again. To make me feel like shit because of it. To doom me to a life of bitterness and disappointment. They would be my worst enemy.
In a very literal sense I am my own worst enemy.
Yesterday I ran 5k for the CIBC Run for the Cure. It was a slog that I could barely finish. Next week I get to fail the Royal Victoria Half Marathon. It's over four times the distance. I'll be running it with the equivalent of two whole frozen turkeys strapped to my abdomen. As usual, I get to do it alone. There are no rewards waiting for me at the finish line.
Why bother at all? All I've got is the certain knowledge that giving up, while tempting, leads me down an even worse road. But dammit, do all my choices have to be "bad" and "worse"?
Fuck, Birthday-to-Valentines-Suicide-Season hasn't even started yet.