It makes me cry every time. I would love so much for someone to come into my life and say “Miranda, come to this retreat for a month, where we will have two trainers for you to work out with, and a nutritionist to show you what to eat and how you eat it.” “And then? We’re going to send you home and in 5 months we’re going to give you a personal trainer and all the tools to keep losing weight.”
I do not have the amount of weight to lose like these people. I never catch how tall these people are but they out weigh me by 100lbs at least. But me?
I outweigh myself by at least 100lbs. Now don’t tell me I’m wrong. My senior year of college I weighed 140lbs. Today, I weigh 245.
I keep talking and talking about the weight and that I’m sick of it. I’m sick of myself. I hate looking in the mirror. I hate my pictures. I can’t stand the over hang that is happening. It makes me cry. It makes me hate that I used to be healthy and I was never happy with myself then and took it for granted. I never once thought that I would be this big.
I’m changing. On my own, I’m doing something about this.
Without a trainer.
Without the fancy resort.
I’m doing this now.
I hate working out. I HATE IT. I don’t like to lift weights. I don’t like to walk on a tredmill. And DON’T even tell me to start running. You can suck it and go straight to hell. I will never be a marathon runner.
I’m sucking it up and trying new things…
I’m doing some dancing.
I’ve talked a friend into letting me sneak on the base and go swimming.
My portion sizes are going down.
I’m looking at these people who have more weight than me to lose and instead of looking in the mirror and saying “I could never do that.” I’m finally saying…
I’m going to reclaim my body.
It’s mine, and it’s going to be healthy again.
I am going to do this.