The day I decided I wasn’t going to be fat anymore.

I just refuse. 

I full out just refuse to keep being fat. 

I have complained about my weight for months. Turner will be 1 year old on May 30, and although I have lost some of the baby weight, I have not lost even close to enough. I starve myself. I try to stick to less than 1,200 calories a day, and even when I am weak and slip up, I still rarely ever get up to 2,000. That method allowed me to shed a couple of pounds, but it is just not enough and my body has reached a point to where it is going to lose anymore. 

I can’t join a gym. 

I am an extreme obsessive introvert, and I sit here right at this very moment thinking about having to walk into any of the gym options in my town, I basically want to throw up. That is how nervous it makes me. I just can’t do it. Last night, Andrew threw out the idea of a personal trainer, but I just don’t think I can do that either. I am a complete flake when it comes to commitment and when it comes to a commitment that involves an activity with another person… especially a stranger, just not going to happen. 

But I really am tired of being fat. 

I am not like fat to where I don’t fit in my clothes without much people to notice. Like, I still have the uncomfortable and embarrassing belly skin that is a result of having a baby. But what I have noticed, and while it may be in my head, it is all I can think about, is that I am expanding horizontally. When I see reflections of myself, I am wider. The point from one hip to the other, is visibly stretched to me. And it makes me so depressed I almost cry anytime I see my reflection. Lately, it has been getting worse. I am unhappy constantly about the way I look and it makes me unhappy in other avenues of my life. 

So yesterday, I decided I wasn’t going to be fat anymore. 

I always have excuses for why I can’t work out. Andrew makes time to go to the gym every day. I find reasons why I can’t go for a run in our neighborhood or why I can’t go for a walk on the greenway after work. But they are nothing more than excuses. And that all changed yesterday. I am not going to be able to cry away my fat. So I am going to work until it is gone. 

So I went for a run yesterday. 

I felt really good about it. Just going, and knowing I was doing something active to make a change in my life made me feel better. Now if I can just stick to it. Well, no, that isn’t even an option. I WILL stick to it. I am going to do this. A couple of ways I am going to do this. Just a warning for you guys… I need someone or something to hold me accountable. I need motivation and encouragement. Andrew is no good for this because for one, he is basically out of town every other weekend for work, and two, he would rather give in to me than hear me whine. Even if the end result is me looking like a hippo. 

So I have decided that I am going to post photos. For all the world to see. Each week I will take photos and post them here. So if you don’t want to see them, here is your warning. That is why I haven’t posted photos yet, so you can be fairly warned. I need some accountability. 

So there is that. I hope it works this time, and hopefully this will be my last blog complaining about being fat and miserable. I am sure you all are just as tired of reading them as I am of writing and feeling this way. Not to mention, the blog I wrote for my job yesterday should have been all the encouragement I needed to get off my butt and do something, but it is just never enough!  

 

Brittney Burns, SiteDart Author