When the Cookie Crumbles, It's Probably in My Hand

So yesterday, with all my morning gumption wasted away, I ate the chocolate almond eggs. They were delicious. And now they aren't tempting me anymore. So.

This whole thing has gotten me to thinking about the idea of what is beautiful again. I am a Facebook fanatic, and follow all kinds of fitness people. I see lots of pictures of women of all ages with washboard abs and sleek, tan biceps. It makes me feel inspired sometimes, but it also makes me feel pretty bad about myself, too. Like, if she can do it, why can't I? Is it a woeful lack of will-power, or a genetic predisposition to the enjoyment of starchy carbs and a soft cushy belly? Or something in between?

Last summer I lost 18 pounds over the course of a couple of months. I worked out every morning to a killer Jillian Michaels video, took an hour walk most afternoons and counted every calorie. I consumed between 1200-1500 calories a day, and it worked. My belly was on the way out, my biceps were shapely. And it was SO HARD. I've gained back every pound and then some. It was a good program, the pounds went away, I felt good, but I was hungry all the time. ALL THE TIME. And my body was achy. My wonderful husband has forgiven me for being a self-righteous food Nazi during that time, thank goodness.

What is the middle ground? I need to find it. I know I am an emotional eater, I know that I am addicted to fatty, high carb foods. I also know that I can continue to work out. My mantra lately is, "Don't sacrifice what you want most for what you want now." I think Dave Ramsey said that. Whoever said it, it's good. I just think of dentures and it inspires me to floss and use the fancy electric toothbrush. I think of being too jacked up to walk up stairs and it inspires me to do aerobics.

Onward and Upward!

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