Food

I have a love/ hate relationship with food.  Except, for me there is no hate.  I love food.  I consider myself a connoisseur when it comes to anything food. 

But there is my problem.

Sometimes you are just too good at stuff, y'know?

Two months before Florida I set myself a goal to lose some weight for the sole purpose that I could eat tonnes of food when I went away.  Thus allowing myself the indulgence of gaining all the weight that I had lost.  But not getting any bigger.  Makes perfect sense, right? 

Once home from Florida I found it hard to get back into the "zone" but continued with the occasional bit of exercise and  continued to eat in abundance and drink lager (only at the weekend though)  and the weight just stayed.  At a level. 

Then I put some jeans on this weekend and found that my inability to breath whilst sitting, was a sign that I needed to shift a few pounds.  Again. 

And so the bloody cycle starts all over a'soddingain.

There's no happy medium for me and its starting to destroy my soul.  When you become all deep and meaningful you realise that,  this is it.  The circle that is your life.  And it makes you sad.

I am not an unhappy person.  I laugh a lot.  I find it hard, on occasion,  to be serious.  I always assume the glass if half full.  I can chat to anyone and I have only ever hated one person on sight.  I have a happy family life, a happy home and life is good.  But I can't be happy with MY perception of my body.  And I want to be. 

Even when I have lost weight and I feel really comfortable I  always want that little bit more.  I always want to be thinner.    Even when my own husband stands in front of me, looks me in the eye and tells me that he loves me no matter what, no matter how big/ small/ wide or long I get.  But it just doesn't matter.  Because it's all about my perception.  Its about how my body image makes ME feel.

And when it comes to being selfish?  I don't want it to be all about me.  I want to be carefree.  Bounce along the street kicking my stomach in front of me without a care in the world.  I want to eat cake, and lots of it.  Twice a day.  I want to swig lager from a can and eat Kebab if I want to.  (and I actually loathe Kebab) 

But it's me that stop me.  Its not my husband.  Its not my children.  Its me. 

I cycled five miles tonight in my aim for inner peace.  I was breathing hard and sweating and its a brilliant feeling.  That buzz you get from your adrenaline pumping.  But its never going to be as good as the taste of chocolate cake. 

I am not going to stop exercising or eating healthily because ultimately its what I want.  I feel better when I am thinner and all that blah de blah.    But I genuinely feel its a battle that a lot of us have.  I don't think I am alone.

I am not writing this blog either, as an attention thing.  I am not writing it so that everyone makes lovely comments at the end about how beautiful I am ( but I will not object or delete any such comments)  because I truly believe I have enough self confidence DESPITE my weight.  

But I am sure there are other things to worry about.  Its been nearly a year since I blogged about nearly killing myself at Bootcamp and here I am again complaining about not being the "ultimate" me.  Nothing much has changed.

And its laughable really.  I don't want to change me.  I don't want to be anybody else (despite some people's opinions to the contrary)   I just want to be happy with the body shape that is ME.

I think its a battle I have lost.  And in a years time I will be probably be sitting in the same jeans saying "shit I can't breathe very well in these...." 

So that's it really.  I have put my thoughts down.  I don't feel better but I have to be content that this IS the circle of my life. 

Today I have eaten enough protein to sink a protein battle ship and I am drinking water like its going out of fashion.  And,  I KNOW, that I will reach my goal weight and start to feel better about myself.

And then oh my shitting god, it will be Christmas.......