Ms. Fatty McFat from Fat Town!!!

Ah, here we are - Spring, the weather is getting warmer...the trees outside our new house are beginning to bud. Life is good here in our new home. Fred's work is going well, I am having increasing opportunity at my job. My heath has been ok- my leg has been giving me trouble on and off but for the most part nothing too major. Life seems...well, pretty awesome.

There is only one problem.

And I am very aware of this problem.

I let myself get fat again.

I know, laugh, its ok- the word fat usually makes people laugh...I'm not really sure why- if you've ever gained an unwanted 10 lbs you know how uncomfortable you become...well I've packed on an extra 30. Yupper, 3-0. Yeah, I know, that's a 38 week along pregnant woman...well I can assure you...no bun in the oven here.

There are many contributing factors to this problem. First of all, adjusting to working full time and a 45-50 minute commute each way has taken its toll- most of my days are 10 hours long, at best, and even if I have the energy its hard to find the time to work out as often as I need to- I know, I know- wait until I have kids right?

Also, life is stressful...I'm talking about drug addictions, alcoholism, tumors, amputations of random body parts, life-threatening organ failure- all in one year- kind of stress...

But, numero uno problem- I. LOVE. TO. EAT. Period.
...and I know I'm not alone here...however, in order to eat (a typical diet) and avoid weight gain I usually need to log about 7 hours a week in the gym, running, squatting and crunching...and watch what I eat meticulously during the week- only splurging on weekends.

I'm happy- I eat. I'm upset- I eat. I'm sad...you get the picture...if you've ever see that episode of Sex and the City where Miranda pulls the cake out of the garbage to get just one more bite...and has to spray Windex on the cake to keep from eating it...I laughed so hard, not from the obsurdity of it, but from the familiarity.

I see other women out there that never have to count and watch and calculate how much weight a piece of cake will cost them...I envy and loathe every single one of them...and the sad thing is, most of them don't realize how lucky they are, or how much freedom they have! Having Celiac Disease only adds to this frustration...

But I know women with rocking-ass bodies that work there asses off to get it...and not only do I respect them for it- I want to BE THEM. I felt I was close once...2005- I was a size 6
(now I'm a 12) and in the best shape of my life...I want that again. That feeling of lightness, strength, endurance, happiness...and not about the size I wear (we all know that doesn't really matter)- I want to look as happy as I am and I want to stop being self-conscience of my body...and to be perfectly honest I just want all my fucking clothes to fit again!!!

I started back on the journey last summer and was doing really well...but I'm famous for falling off that wagon and the results recently have been much more drastic then ever before...is this why getting old sucks so bad?!?!

Anyway, what I'm getting at here is that I am diving into something I have never tried before...I hope it doesn't land me in the hospital...but I think it might just be the ticket...I really hope so...I know my friends, family and husband love me regardless- but I want to love me, and right now I am proud of myself but I feel uncomfortable in my own skin. I have it in me to do it- I once weighed 191 pound and wore a size 16. I can do this, I know I can. I just need to find my way back to that place...

I'll let you know when the insanity begins : )