Wednesday, August 09, 2006

More of Me to Love

Eight pounds. How could it be? According to the scale in the doctor's office, I have gained 8 lbs since meeting my husband. Sure, I was in the midst of marathon training when we met, so all of those romantic nights of binge drinking were really just fuel for the long weekend runs I was committed to do. And everyone does say that you get fat when you fall in love, but that wasn't supposed to happen to me!!!

I'm not one to step on a scale. The only time I am aware of how much I weigh is when I go to the doctor. But I could tell something was awry. My pants have been tighter and my wedding band has been a real bitch to take off lately. I have maintained my ideal weight for many, many years. Even throughout college, which is an absolute mystery considering the amount of beer I drank and the slices of cold cheese pizza I consumed at 3:AM. Still my weight stayed the same. The only time I had ever gone below was during an incredibly stressful time of my life. It wasn't even good skinny... I lost 10 pounds and thought I looked scary. So my usual weight was what worked for me, and it was not hard to keep. Until now.

I know I haven't been exercising as much. At all. But I don't feel like I've been eating more than usual. I just have to blame the hubby, because he has a big appetite. Sometimes I feel like I have to eat when I don't want to b/c otherwise it will be gone before I blink. For example, if I buy myself a small carton of ice cream, that should ideally last me 3 desserts. I find myself eating it off the second night because otherwise, the hubby will get to it and on the third night, I will be disappointed to find the empty carton, spoon on top, in the freezer. I don't know if this is actually true, but somehow I know it is totally his fault.

And he doesn't deny it. He claims that he's done this to all of his ex-girlfriends... fattens them up because he likes more, rather than less, meat on the bones. Well, I want no part of that! He can have ALL the ice cream now. I am on a mission to lose ten pounds. And his sick, twisted plan to sabotage me, which undoubtedly involves cheese of any kind, will be squashed by my iron will-power. Not because I sat on it with my 8 lb heavier tush.

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