Two weeks ago, I threw one of the Greatest Tantrums Ever.
I had been running every day. RUNNING, people. I hate to run. I despise to run. Always have. And I hate it more now then I have ever have in my life because I am 190 pounds and I'm pretty sure more than half of that 190 is boob and ass weight and boobs and ass HURT when you run. But I was like "Screw it, I'm going to run! Because I want to be thin and healthy again! And I want to push myself to do something I normally wouldn't do! Yeehaw!"
When I first started, I could only run a short distance. But everyday, I'd push myself a little farther. I'd find "marks" and try to push myself past a new mark everyday. "Just go to that light post and then stop!" I'd tell myself, but when I'd get to that light post, I'd see a tree "You can make it to the tree, then you can stop!" Then I'd pass the tree and see a crack in the sidewalk "You can make it to that crack, then stop!" And everyday, I'd go a little farther. Eventually, I was able to run the entire trail and yes, I was so proud of myself.
But, guess what? The scale WOULD NOT MOVE. I've been battling the 190's for MONTHS NOW. What in the hell is wrong with my body that it refuses to STOP WEIGHING 190 POUNDS?
So, it broke me and I quit! QUIT! But not without throwing The Tantrum.
And guess who got to witness The Tantrum? And try to talk me down from The Tantrum?
That's right, the man I fart on during sex!
First, the tears, then, the screaming and carrying on "I'm so SICK OF THIS! I CAN'T GET OUT OF THE 190'S AND I DON'T UNDERSTAND! I run every fucking night, and I'm eating healthy and yet, my body doesn't want to give it up, man. I can't do it anymore. I hate running, DESPISE IT, but I'm doing it to try to lose weight and it's not working, so WHY IN THE HELL AM I DOING IT? I mean, if I'm going to stay fat, even though I'm running every damn night, what's the point? I'll just sit at home and lay on the couch and weigh 190! THAT'S WHAT I'M GOING TO DO! Screw running! Screw my body! I CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE!"
And, so, I stopped running. And guess what? I gained 4 pounds! And that pissed me off. REALLY BADLY. So, I took it out on those 4 pounds and went to the gym. And this morning, I decided to weight myself again to see "What's up". I braced myself for the worst. But guess what? The worst did not happen! THE BEST HAPPENED! Because...lOOK!
(and you will shut it about how FILTHY my scale is because, its' just a scale and I have enough shit to clean around here so that's the last thing I'm worried about, but damn, it really IS filthy, huh?)
ONE. EIGHTY. NINE (point 5, but still, NOT ONE NINETY!)
You have no idea how exciting this is for me. It's been YEARS since I've seen the 80's and I finally feel like the curse of the 90's is broken and there is no looking back because I will never, EVER be that weight again (ha! ha! watch, next week I'll be crying about how I'm 190 again because I ate so much Boo-fay at Vegas!).
But for now, I will celebrate! Good bye 190's! You were an asshole and I have always hated you and I will not miss you at all, you stubborn bitch!







Awesome! Good job. When are you going to Vegas? I'm heading there in 2 weeks so any info you post on your vegas trip would be awesome :D (i.e. cheap food. Important stuff etc)