With my own inactivity and bad habits.
After 2.5 years of housewifery, I'm at my pudgiest ever, and (while I have never been petite) ruebenesque has taken on a whole 'nother art form in the size of my freaking ass.
And please, darlings, I know you love me and dislike it when I "put myself down" but calling me anything other than fat at this point is enabling bad behaviour for myself.
I am fat. Reeeeaaaallllyyy fat. Even for me and i am usually pretty chill about my body image.
Now that I admit this publicly, it's also time for me to realize that my bad eating habits and generally lazy self are not encouraging a long and healthy life.
They are jeopardizing it.
Apparently 2011 is a time for change in a lot of ways. Today, Sylvie and I made a promise to each other to try our fucking best to motivate the living snot out of each other to lose up to our goal weight. I wont speak for her, but for me, this is almost the weight of my husband. Scary huh? I am aiming for 125 lbs in loss over a 2 year stretch, with an average of 1.5 lbs lost per week. This is doable. We own a treadmill, we have parks, swimming pools and running shoes and bathing suits. I just can't do this anymore. I can't be this big and this unhealthy.
If I flake, I'm weak. I'm tired of giving myself so many 'outs'. Addictions are addictions, be it nicotine, drugs, carbs, caffeine, shopping, whatever. I can't kill myself slowly with my own stupidity and leave my son without a mother, My husband without a wife, and my friends with one less friend in the world.
Or I can walk on a treadmill, swim laps, and cut the processed shit out of my diet. It seems like a fairly straightforward decision.
So, rewards, other than the obvious 16 sizes smaller, is the new tattoo, yes a big one! From left knee to the tips of my toes, there will be a beautiful peacock, in blues, greens and varied other colours, this is what I promised to myself for busting my ass. Wish me luck!