Fat Chick vs. Food Update

Since I made my public declaration last week about reporting on the good and the bad in the fat ass department, I figured I better make good on that promise. Good or bad, I said I would blog about how I did with my three current goals. They were -

1. work out five times in seven days
2. no eating after supper
3. no booze

How did I do? Well, good and bad.

I did manage to make it to the gym for the first time in months, so that’s good. However I only made it there once when I promised myself I’d go five times, so that’s bad.

I managed to eat properly and lay off the snackage and beer, so that’s good. But I cheated three out of those seven days, so that's bad. But, in fairness to me I only drank beer one day out of seven.

I might have to stop here and preface this with the pronouncement that I am not a raging alcoholic, and knocking it off with the booze isn’t really that hard for me, provided there is no occasion closely associated with booze to contend with. The Grey Cup, for example. My team was in the championship game this weekend, so I was practically mandated by my province to drink beer.

Just as an aside, we lost in the worst possible way I’ve ever experienced in my whole football watching life. It was horrifying.

Anyway.

Let’s focus on some positives –

All of the occasions that I was eating like shit, I felt really guilty about it. I wasn’t rationalizing my indulgences like I have been known to in the past, telling myself a ‘deserve’ a treat because of stress, work, kids, etc. The whole time I was eating those chips I felt like a total failure, so that’s good right?

My guilt is in fact so pronounced that it has morphed into the most annoying bitch ever. She has taken up residence in my head and makes me feel like an asshole for not working out and eating garbage. I call her Pageant Mom because she is extremely judgmental, and is all, “Does your ass really need another one of THOSE?” when I’m eating something crappy. I hate her. She’s blonde with fake tits and for some reason has an American accent – one of those Texas/Georgia/Louisiana type accents. She wears a lot of glittery shirts and way too much blush.

Let me apologize right now to all of you Americans who are completely insulted by me stereotyping my split personality (I can’t help it – she just appeared that way), as well as the lumping together of probably three totally different accents. I’d love for you to hear her voice so you could identify what specific region she belongs to for me, but that would be difficult since she is, you know…imaginary.

I think this post has come off the rails a bit.

Let’s refocus.

A new week is upon me, and I am going to do my best to get Pageant Mom to shut the fuck up. My beloved boot camp class starts up again tomorrow, and this time there is a competition, a la the Biggest Loser – whoever loses the most percentage of weight wins SIX free sessions with Trainer Lady! She don’t come cheap, so I am totally in it to win it.

Wish me luck.