Dear Lamont, Leotard Redux

Now I'm really hoping you don't read this blog. I'm sure you'd make me do pull ups or some other impossibility for posting this ridiculousness. But success is success and you can't argue with results, even when they are a little silly.



A lot silly.



The mayor of Sillytown.

Love,
Burly

Dear Lamont,

Scale is broken. Read 90 lbs a few days ago, and then 245 the next day and then yesterday it was 198. If it doesn't read like 15 lbs today I'm throwing it out. I didn't come here to be insulted, I came here to be lied to, oh water-damaged scale friend. Don't tell me what I don't wanna hear if you aren't gonna feed me the truth.

Love,
Burly

Dear Lamont,

Fat Tuesdays are followed by Guilty and Bloated Wednesdays.

Love,
Burly

Dear Lamont,

Rewards, rewards, rewards!

I've lost 20lbs, I've managed to really change my eating habits so that even my binge eating is on a smaller and less devastating scale, and I have cleaned out my entire closet and have no wearable clothes.

I think I was due for a totally frivolous and ridiculous reward.

Enter the Forever 21 Leopard Print Thong Leotard.

I haven't felt great about my body even though it has completely changed, all I ever see is the inches left to be lost around my tummy thanks to two children and years of yo-yo dieting, the muscles still underdeveloped to my taste, the way I think I should look starkly contrasted against the girl I look at in the mirror. Stupid, because I weigh less than I have since I exited my teens, but I never claimed not to be neurotic. Anyway, this little leotard has helped me to almost entirely reverse that.

Firstly, I bought it at Forever 21, which means that I fit in clothing from Forever 21. WTF? Second, It is fitted. Because it is ridiculous I didn't care about my muffin top or my extra bulges and creases- If I looked bad it looked like I did it to be ironic. You don't know how freeing it is to wear tacky clothing.

I ended up skating in this tonight with some electric yellow tights, leg warmers and a belt, channeling my inner 1980's fitness bunny and it did wonders for me. Not only did I skate better (when you dress awkwardly, you have to skate well to back it up...) but I felt sexy and beautiful and powerful. It was kind of a breakthrough moment.

I'm glad I didn't buy anything sensible today to celebrate my 20th pound lost, that would have just been silly.

Love,
Burly

Dear Lamont,

The other night I was in an interesting predicament. I don't know how to not stress eat. I made a post on facebook about it- what do you do when you're stressed and all you want is a milkshake?- and I got a lot of the usual- eat something healthier, have hot cocoa or tea and things like that- and that is all great advice, all things I do regularly. (Haven't had a milkshake since I met you, my life is a series of substitutions these days.) HOWEVER, that wasn't really my question.

How do I not stress eat? What button do I need to switch to keep my instant reaction to stress or depression eating? Just swapping the go-to milkshake for a 100 calorie pack doesn't solve the problem, it just makes it less devastating while reinforcing the behavior.

I ended up going to bed early to avoid temptation. Plus, Doug was making chorizo and bacon and eggs and hash browns for breakfast burritos to take to work. All of my weaknesses at once, coupled with stress and a strong desire for chocolate. BAD.

It really bothered me, though, that everyone had the usual substitution answers but no real solutions to stress eating. Is there no real answer? Am I stuck going to bed early whenever I am having a hard time dealing with life?

-Burly

Dear Lamont,

175.8

I weighed 177 at my lowest before I had kids.

Holy Shit!

<3
Burly

PS... its called Budgeting.

I had my vodka cream sauce with italian sausage this week. But I also had my salad for dinner. Learning that I can buy my expensive dress but I'll have to admit I won't be able to afford gas to get anywhere if I want to splurge.

Dear Lamont,

Felt pretty good about myself today. Even though I had a pretty calorie laden lunch (PMS, whatyougonnado? Kimmy can't say no to Penne pasta with vodka cream sauce and Italian sausage. I'd rather starve the rest of the day. Which I did.) I ate a simple salad for dinner.

I considered just giving up and not counting calories the rest of the day, but I couldn't bring myself to do it.

Only 145 over my daily amount, so I think I'm doing pretty swell. Or swollen. Bloated, even. whatevs.

Love,
Burly

Dear Lamont,

Cleaned out my closet. Have 6 bags of too-big clothing. Am currently naked because I don't have anything that fits. At least I look good.

Thats almost not true, my mom did buy some shirts for me yesterday- all Mediums. I've never been a medium, are you kidding me? This girl has steadily been LARGE or LARGER. I had to nix a few of the shirts though.... come on, who puts a light colored stripe right on the muffin top area of a shirt? Bad taste, folks! When I no longer have a muffin top I am getting a blueberry muffin tattoo there to commemorate it and remind me to not let it become truth again. Plus, blueberry muffins are just really fuckin' cute. If I can't eat em I might as well wear them, right?

That's not all truth either. I ate a blueberry muffin the other day. Fiber One has some tasty muffins that don't undo my day for under 200 calories. I'll take it. I like fiber. I like muffins.

Know what I don't like? Everyone eating Pizza around me lately. You'll be pleased to know I ignored it and made myself a healthier option once I got home.

You won't be pleased to know that I had some Doritos, but jalepeno popper flavor? F that, I can't NOT eat those, but I only ate 10 and took the 150 calorie hit. Life isn't worth living if I can't try all the new flavors of Doritos.

Sorry about Friday, looks like I'm not crocheting fast enough so I can't afford you this week. When the tax return comes in, I'll be sure to set myself up with at least the rest of the month. Hella lame. I promise I won't slack, but I can't promise that I'll do globe jumps without you there to push me further.

Well, that's all. I'm gonna go flex in front of a mirror with my magnifying glass and look for muscles. I'm hella ripped.

Love,
Burly

Dear Lamont,

I just picked up two tacos and a quesadilla from El Unico. Two tacos that were not for me. Wanna talk about self control? Because I don't, I'd rather talk with my mouth full of tacos. I'll go eat my apple instead. I can smell the carne asada on my husbands breath, though. Does kissing someone with taco breath have any calories?

Love,
Burly

Dear Lamont,

My arms and shoulders are STILL killing me. My legs hardly even felt it, though. This tells me that I am so disproportionately strong and weak that I'm spending all my energy trying to get my arms to keep up and my legs aren't getting the workout they need. I guess the only way to fix this is to get stronger, but in the meantime that kind of blows. The only reason I couldn't do more weight in the dead-lifts was because I couldn't actually hold the weight, it wasn't my legs giving out.

You'd think lugging around two gigantic children all day would count for something. Nothing. A big fat nothing, Lamont. They need to earn their keep!

Love,
Burly