I've been preparing a new workout/diet plan. I hope to start next week, but I like to get every bit in order before I start so I don't crash head first into failure. In preparation, I've been drinking a lot more water, eating more vegetables and weaning off sweets. For whatever reason, I weighed myself this morning for the first time in three weeks, hoping for 119 but expecting 120. Instead, I saw 113 flash up at me and I checked it three more times to see if it was an error. But every time I weighed, I saw that precious number I haven't seen since high school. I put away the scale and checked my image in the mirror. I don't look or feel thinner but I turned and gazed at my spine; every vertebrae poking out like little teeth under my skin. Then the ends of my ribs, rippling down the edges of my back. I spent a long time trying to get myself to this point before but I stopped the obsessive pursuit long ago. Honestly, I am disgusted with myself by how happy seeing that number made me. The person I was back then is happy to see where I am now and that I got here in a healthy manner. But I realized that I will always have a part of me that wants to be thinner and see bones sticking out. I'm always going to see fat on myself that no one else sees. I'm going to drown that girl inside of me by being healthy and getting fit.
Au Revoir! tohuwabohu