I think I hit the 60lbs milestone last weekend. At least that’s my best guess…I’m still kicking myself for not getting weighed right at the start of this journey, but let’s just say back then my relationship with the bitch in the bathroom wasn’t in a good place. If you’ve been reading along you’ll know I’ve encountered a buggeration factor or two in recent weeks, so I ended up treading water for a bit. Annoying but hey, if you’re treading water at least you’re not sinking, right? But, I’m on the move again and 60lbs off is pretty awesome, if you’ll forgive me a big fat happy dance.

When I started this diet, like every one before it my intention was to hit it completely straight – no weeks where my weight stuck, no weeks where one of those minxy little pounds snuck back into my pants when my back was turned, and certainly no close encounters with my trigger foods. Hmm. I am at least having the good grace to look a bit sheepish but you know what, life just isn’t like that is it? And I’m actually starting to appreciate the degrees of light and shade that I’m encountering on this journey.

Every time I’ve stumbled, I’ve done a bit of a post-FUBAR debrief, and what I’ve realised is that most times where I’ve struggled a bit, I’ve gained a soupçon of insight that maybe I didn’t have before. That’s helping me. And more importantly that that, I’ve come to understand that struggling is different than failing. Now all of you might know that already, but it’s taken me a while to catch on.

It used to baffle me when folk talked about enjoying something more if they’d sweated their cahoonies off to get it. It always struck me as far too much like unnecessary hard work, you know? Working overtime for six straight months with no treats and no new handbags in order to pay for your holiday didn’t mean you’d enjoy it more than if you’d banged it on a credit card and saved the bill for Ron, surely?

Similarly I’ve fantasised often about what it would be like to just wake up one day in a gorgeous skinny body. I mean like go to bed fat and wake up skinny. Instant skinniness…it’s every fat girl’s dream. But I can tell you exactly how that fantasy would have played out…by the end of week one my skinny pants would be a bit on the snug side and within weeks those sleek smooth limbs would start to resemble a lumpy old pillow. Because that’s what would’ve happened if you’d attached this head to a perfect body…they wouldn’t match.

So, my journey so far has been about as straight as a dog’s hind leg. It doesn’t look like I intended it to when I set out but you know what, the degrees of light and shade are making it stick. Instead of perfect-perfect-perfect-fail-the end, it looks more like try-try-succeed-whoops-yes!-celebrate-scratch head- try-try-happy-pissed off-try-lightbulb-try-succeed-try-shit-happy…not straight, but beautiful in its own way.

That’s why I feel sure that eventually, when I do wake up in my skinny body – my hard-won long awaited skinny body – all these learning opportunities mean it’ll be attached to a wise old head who cherishes it and treats it well, and no matter how hard the asshole voice nags, deprives it of cheese balls until the end of time.

Here’s to the next 60lbs…onwards! 🙂

Like it..? Tell your friends!