Dear, dear, dearest Lamont

I hate myself.

I've really let everything fall apart. About 3 months of depression, about 5 of lifestyle changes due to work and I've. just. fallen. to. pieces.

My body is paying for it.

Craving sweets. Salty. Nothing healthy. Feeling boaty.

Gaining weight, holy shit. It's just piling on. I look terrible, but I feel worse.

I'll be coming back more. I need to figure out childcare, but once I have that set I'm there.

In the meanwhile I'm doing at least one 10 minute workout on exercise TV every day. It's not much, but its something I can manage through the fat fog of depression.

I'm also setting up other rewards. If I track my food and keep it to 1600 cals (+ or - 100) every day, drink my water and do at least my 10 minutes then every 2 weeks I'm gonna okay it with myself to buy a $10-$15 treat from sephora, lime crime or sugarpill.

I miss my damn hip bones.

*sigh*

Disgustingly yours,
Burly

Dear Lamont,

Today marks my one year anniversary of meeting you. So I'm laying all my cards on the table.

I've settled into a 2 or 3 month long fog of depression, I've gained 8 lbs due to a non-existant exercise regime, even though my eating hasn't been horrible.

But I haven't skated in a month.

So where I am is still unbelievably smaller than I have been since junior high, but bigger than I was 5 months ago.

My amazing Burly arms are sadly normal.

My peek-a-boo-abs that were almost there in the correct lighting... those just disappeared in the last few weeks.

But what can disappear in a week, a month, 6 months, can also be found again in a week, a month, 6 months. I'll be back.

Our anniversary is important to me. On this day a year ago I began seriously thinking about my heath, envisioning myself as strong, beautiful, chin-free. Today I am returning to our goal- a lifetime of healthy choices. You don't just lose weight, it's constant work. Kind of like a zombie movie- you gotta constantly keep shooting the bastards and boarding things up or else they'll creep in through a window, a crawl space, and then you have a score of other problems.

Okay, maybe not. But I'm scared enough of the undead that the visual of my sedentary ass being damned and after my braaaaaiiiiiins might actually work in the motivation department.

What I am saying is this: I need to move. Even when I'm depressed movement can lift me out of myself, and I just need to push past the feeling that I need to be in my bed avoiding everything. It won't be easy- if it was, I wouldn't walk around like a shell of a person at all- I'd snap out of it. But I've found that saying it out loud, identifying the problem is helping. Giving it weight.

Today I am recommitting myself to my new size 10 jeans that another pound from now will not button or zip. I'm recommitting myself to bear crawls with my children in the yard and making growling noises while we do. And dammit, I'm recommitting myself to fiber one cereal, yogurt and 8 glasses of water a day. Because this shit is bananas.

Happy anniversary, you've saved my life. See you in class again soon, I promise.

Love,
Burly


When we met.































Last Weekend

Dear Lamont,

I have finally learned moderation. I eat what I want, but smarter now. I've been looking at the bigger picture, and planning in my favorite things instead of avoiding them. Pancakes aren't as big of a problem as they used to be if I stick to two and use fruit instead of syrup on top. I can do the whole fast food thing if I know the nutritional value before ordering and plan my day accordingly around my filet-o-fish and small fries (660 cals, and thats with BBQ sauce to dip the fries in). And I share my fries.

Its pretty amazing, because I don't feel deprived and 1,500 calories doesn't seem so small anymore. I said "I want pancakes BAD" to a friend on Saturday and she responded "Those DEFINITELY aren't on your diet..." and I didn't know how to tell her that I'm not on a diet without sounding smug.

I just weigh the worth of the foods I eat now. I'll load up on fiber one cereal, veggies, fruits and lots of water so that when the opportunities arise to indulge I have some wiggle room to enjoy my palate. That is probably the biggest factor in my almost 40 lb weight loss. Sure I could probably drop it faster if I stuck to a diet, and didn't have a Frosty when the mood strikes but it wouldn't be a promise I could keep. (a small one is 330 Calories- one of the lowest calorie milkshakes- Starbucks Mocha Light Frapuccino is a better bet.)

I can promise myself, however, that I'll fuel myself adequately using a nutritional tracker and still enjoy a few treats in between the carb, protein, fat and calorie counting.

Satiated,
Burly

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