Drastic measures

I am about to … *gasp* … plan my meals. As in, what I am going to eat on any given day. Then, I plan on eating that. And only that. And nothing more than that.


I’m so fucking sick of this shit. So fucking sick of feeling unable to get to the nice place where my body was something that didn’t work against me. I maintained so well for so long… Then I had a reason to let things start to unravel… and now I’m here at a very bad place ™ for me.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not all that unhappy.

That’s maybe part of the problem.

I don’t think I’ll really ever get back to where I want to be, even though I have been there before and have the proof in pictures.
I see no progress every time I endeavor to be “good,” no matter how long I work it.
I like candy. I don’t have oodles, but seriously I don’t need it, and usually it’s not a satisfactory experience anyway.
I am a lazy shit. I’m lazy about everything. I’m a huge procrastinator, to the point where I should seriously be getting some kind of lifetime achievement ribbon for it.
I’m a very happy individual. Seriously. I’m disgustingly in love with my husband, my actual health (sans teeth, which are a mess) is fine, I’m lacking the usual anxiety I had even just a few months ago… I’m like nearing nirvana here, when it comes to my state of mind about normal things.

So, basically I’ve grown so complacent and so good at maintaining that I have a hard time of returning to a lower point. I might gain a small bit for one reason or another, and then just maintain that for a while. Then, gain a bit more, and maintain. Problem is, that for the most part, I’m pretty sure that’s about how I got to 200 and didn’t notice till I was actually at 200. 180 wasn’t so bad, all things considered. Somewhere between that and 200 was the breaking point… where I could no longer pull off the size… growing into grotesque zone and no longer able to wear it well (or, at least not badly).

Not to fear, I’m not in any danger of 200 again… but I am at a point I’m kinda shocked to be at… and I’m pretty sure it’s just a matter of the general ikky bloat I had going on the entirety of my Chicago trip… but still. This is not good. And I am seriously getting back to the point of being really fucking irritated. I’m supposed to be fucking HOT, dammit.

My plan is gym during the day, on the days I don’t have class. This will serve the purpose of me getting it out of the way, and also guilting Otto into getting his workouts in as well. Then, when he gets his in I’ll be doing cardio.

I need to stop procrastinating in general, though. One of the things that keeps leading me astray is my school work (which, of course, I put off all damn day and then have to do it at night) and such. It’s very hard to have the mindset that working out is important… I don’t get graded on how well I eat and how much I lift… so… *shrug*

My reason for joining a challenge is not about camaraderie or accountability, more like using it to get my need for perfection to work with me, rather than against me. I will have to go the length of it, and I’ll have to do the work, because I’m all OCD like that.


And yet again, Aoife loses the train…..

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