Count Your Blessings

Every year, Christmas provides us with a spiritual reality check. You cannot help but to be reminded of how fortunate you are to have a roof over your head, family, friends, and health. Television adds to that ‘fuzzy’ feeling by featuring surreal stories of tragedies followed by remarkable acts of heroism and giving… children who think of and act on worldly ideas… and miraculous events. As the rituals and festivities come to a close…you cannot help but to reflect on the past and count your blessings.

Twelve years ago, I was in a car accident that screwed up my back. I ended up being put off of work for two years and chewing pain pills like crazy. I would easily go through 100 Tylenol #3’s and tons of muscle relaxants every month. I was off of work for almost 2 years…but I was super busy during that time going to Dr. appointments, physiotherapy, kinesiology, acupuncture, massage, and the gym. In between appointments I parked myself on the couch and felt extremely sorry for myself. How dare the world continue turning while I was in tremendous pain? Nursing was my life, and all of a sudden it was ripped out from under me. I also was forced to realize that nursing was my life…and nothing else.

One Christmas I went home (90 miles away) and my back was killing me. Driving and sitting still makes my back spasm and act up. Anyway, when I got home I couldn’t concentrate on anything else but my pain. I lied flat on my back on the hardwood floor writhing and whining. My sister, Lori was sitting in a chair nearby. She is an amputee. When her leg was amputated, there was some nerve damage which results in a subsequent a non-stop ‘pins and needles’ tingling that would drive a saint to drink…but she NEVER complains! To alleviate her pins and needles and sometimes throbbing, she taps away on the stump. So, here she is looking down at me…tapping away…and she says “oh baby I hate to see you in so much pain”. I was sick to my stomach and disgusted with myself. Here I was with 2 feet and a heartbeat…no missing limbs or debilitating illness…whining about a little back pain. Lori was sincere with her comment…but it was an over due reality slap for me. I vowed from that day forward…no more outward displays for sympathy from me!

I decided that if I was going to be in pain all of the time, I may as well do fun stuff and have pain. I managed to get back to work. I wanted more to life than nursing so I got back into skiing…my FAVORITE activity. I started going to the gym, walking, going out and dancing, anything and everything. I was still chewing on pills like candy back then…but I was having fun too instead of wallowing in self pity. As the years passed, I decided that the pills were doing more harm than good and holding me back…like a security blanket…so I weaned myself off of all of them. Now, I exercise, use heat and take the occasion Tylenol and Advil. That’s it. Thankfully, I have way more ‘good’ days than ‘bad’ ones. The only time somebody knows my back is bothering me is when they can see it in my facial expressions…which is rare.

Last night (Christmas Eve) I went to a place I know well. It is like a perpetual basement party where all the strays meet to eat, drink, be merry and play some kick ass pool at all hours. Somehow, the car accident came up and I told the story again…it was my first date with the man who is now my husband. I tell the story….but focus more on the events of the day and the tragedy of missing the Lynard Skynard/ Doobie Brothers concert…and my new car being written off with little mention of my back. While I am telling the story, there is a 20 year old man stuck in a 72 year old decrepit arthritis filled body shooting a game of pool. He walks like his right hip is 6 inches higher than his left hip…oh right…it is…every step requires a swing to gain momentum to move forward. The other guy playing is also a child trapped in a man’s body…but this body is rattled with the nastiest case of rheumatoid arthritis ever seen. This man has to roll back and forth many times to gain momentum to get out of bed. The entire world looks different to him as getting in the shower, going to the bathroom and/or opening a can of soup is a major daily obstacle to overcome. The arthritis has forced him into a perpetual slumped posture, curled knuckles and fingers and it has now claimed his hip. He can barely walk…but when he plays pool…it is simply the table and he…this man NEVER EVER complains….EVER. Can you imagine how ridiculous my little back pain issue would sound here?

All of the others around the table at the basement party have a story to tell…but they don’t. As an empathic person…I look around the table wondering what their stories would entail. Why are they here in the basement of strays on Christmas Eve? One man is missing an arm, another is severely drunk, and another is a work horse who is in his late 60’s with a battered body full of ‘battle scars’ related to years of abuse and injuries. BUT, they are all smiling and telling crazy stories and laughing…waiting for their turn to annihilate the billiards competition. Nobody was discussing bills or health issues or what or who they didn’t have….they simply enjoyed the moment. This IS what Christmas is all about….good friends, good times…just being together…letting loose and laughing together. An “off 4 banks” shot is called…and the 8 ball miraculously sinks as it was commanded. The pool played here is WAY above professional ranks and really something special to see!

On another note, I have also just learned that friend has a rare and terminal cancer. She has already lost a brother at a young age to cancer, and a father and a step father…now it is her turn. I bumped into her last week while Christmas shopping and she never mentioned it at all. She smiled form ear to ear, hugged me tightly and told me how much she missed me at work. She has an amazingly beautiful soul who makes me feel like the sun shines out my ass everytime I see her. I found out about her illness from somebody else days later. There wasn’t an ounce of self pity there…there wasn’t a tear in her eye…there was absolutely no clue coming from her about her fate….in fact, she glowed!

All of these little stories lead up into the BIG picture…my reality check. While I obsess about my weight…people out there who have reason to suffer and wallow in self pity…do not. I get sick at the thought of buying a bigger size…or nothing fitting. I beat the hell out of myself for missing the gym, or eating a chocolate. I obsess about eating too much when there is someone with nothing to eat. I get mad for missing the gym when there are people who cannot walk. I worry about fitting into a specific size and number on the scales…when someone I know has their days on earth being numbered. I have a beautiful home, a business, nursing career, healthy family, great friends and… a weight problem? That sounds really stupid in the grand scheme of the universe doesn’t it? This year, I will focus on counting my blessings…not calories. Wish me luck!

Is there anything worse than being blind? Yes, a man with sight and no vision.-Helen Keller

Lynn
;)

The Importance of Wearing Pants

I have always felt 'confined' in my clothes. Ever since I was little...as soon as I get in the door..clothes come off! Now, as an adult the bra is whipped right over my head and slung shot across the room...immediately. (Bras are inhumane... torture devices in my opinion...).I strip down into my pyjamas...regardless of time of day and just breathe...cozy as a bug in a rug!

I have been working from home for 3 years now. It sounds absolutely dreamy...but it is not all that it is cracked up to be. I must say that owning my own business...and watching it grow from a concept to reality to internationally known is a 'thrill.' I have been living my dream of being my own boss, and self scheduling.I get up and lie down as I please..and squeeze in everything that has to get done in between. Because we have an online business, we work in a virtual office...everything is done by phone, Internet, web conference...rarely in person. As wonderful as this sounds...there is an incredible danger to this lifestyle...NO PANTS Required.I have participated in many business meetings via teleconference in my pyjamas. I have done webinars (online educational sessions) in my nighties. I have even gone so far as to dress from the waist up...lips and pearls and everything...for video conferences..with no pants...just PJ bottoms! I have been caught in my PJ's by the couriers (FedEx, Purolator, DHL).Oops!

Starting your own business is both scary and exciting! The downside is it takes a LOT of work in a short amount of time! Over the first couple of years, my business partner and I kept psychotic and unreasonable hours. As we struggled to meet deadlines....more projects with closer deadlines would appear. We would get it done...and this was all good from a business perspective but very detrimental to my health. You would think that because I can chose to fill my days as I please...and not having to answer to anyone...that I would be able to get to the gym, go for walks and so on. BUT, that quickly turned into "as soon as I get this done"...and then suddenly it would be 1am! I tried setting exercise time into my agenda...but an important phone call would come in or a huge project diversion...and I would promise myself...tomorrow.

Since I was not accountable to anyone, and lived day by day as per my agenda, I totally lost track of all days. I would have to ask my husband often "what day is this?" He would try to recite the date and I would say "not the date...what day of the week is it?". Another danger of not having structure is diet. I am not talking about a weight loss diet...I am simply referring to healthy eating. Hours could go by and I would not eat. Then, starving...I would make bad choices. I would catch myself feeling wonky or having a headache...and then discover that 8 hours have gone by...and 12 cups of coffee later that I haven't eaten! Everyone knows if you do not eat regularly that can lead to many health and weight issues....which it has. I have gained 60 pounds and I now have diabetes (diet controlled, weight related). I have easily smoked a full package of cigarettes a day...sometimes on very stressful days I have even smoked two!!! Ironically, I was writing educational courses for nurses....about cardiac risk factors at the worst of it.

The MOST dangerous side effect of working home alone, losing track of time and days... by far is living pant-less. When I started this business I was 60 pounds lighter! I went form running my ass off as a nurse to working from home on my butt. Add stress to social isolation and you've got yourself an emotional eating wreck. Once every couple of months I would travel for conferences and/or speaking engagements...and I would be so distressed about nothing fitting. I would make a life altering pledge...but again I got so busy I never got around to it. Then, one day..I had to put on pants and nothing fit..not even close. My PJ pants were skin tight and painful....my stretchy pants fought back...what a reality slap!

As Dr. Phil would say...."how's that working for ya?" It wasn't. So along came the goal of my mini triathlon, the 100 pound journey and my blog. I am pleased to have a goal with a deadline.I cannot say tight pants "hurt so good!". I also have decided to go back to work at the hospital in nursing part time...to have some structure, much needed socialization and a daily wardrobe requirements. I will know what day it is...I will have scheduled meal breaks. I will get to see my friends again. I am eager to simply 'move' on a regular basis. I will still be busy with the company in between... but once you get moving it is easier to keep moving. My best advice to anyone planning to work from home and to everyone out there during the Christmas holidays...where you can easily lose track of time and calories... is to put on your pants everyday!

One way to get thin is to re-establish a purpose in life.
Cyril Connolly

Lynn
;)

Finding Freddie

When I was young I had a little French boyfriend named Freddie. Freddie and I ruled the world back in the day...well I did and he went along with it...for fear I would beat him up, or worse...make him kiss me! Freddie and me were outside all the time...from the second we got up until our mothers dragged us in after dark. We played dinky toys, explorers of the earth, Cowboys and Indians, Johnny and Roy (Emergency...for those of you who are old enough),raided gardens, and much more! We biked all over hell's creation, went to the frog pond, climbed cliffs (which actually turns out to be a very small rock wall...but it was HUGE back then!). I even made Freddy play Barbies (basically with a gun to his head- kiss threat).We basically 'played ourselves out' everyday! I had to most wonderful childhood with Freddie.

In the winter time, Freddie and I were out all day again and drug in against our will at night. We went sliding, built snowmen and forts, had snowball fights, or just plain old played in the snow. Our yard was huge so Dad had it plowed. Every snowstorm that plow left us kids the most amazing natural 'toy' you could imagine....a HUGE big ass hill of snow...right in our yard! One year my sister and her friends created this amazing snow house. They dug from high up so you had to climb some snow stairs and slide into the fort on your belly...from the top. They had dug out a room at least 10 feet wide and 10 feet high (in my little world anyway). It was a real IGLOO!!! I don't know if they poured water in it or what...but the inside of this fantastic fort was shiny and polished. They made ledges and had candles in there. It was a snow mansion! What a spot!

Every first snowfall I think about Freddie. Let me tell you why. I am sure everyone who reads this blog is of the era where all snowsuits were one piece. Getting dressed to go into the snow was a BIG arduous deal! You had to put on the long johns, undershirt, pants, sweater, double socks, step into that snowsuit with the elastic bands under your feet. Shove those damn 'snowmobile' boots on (the ones with the liners) and tie the damn things tight. Then a hat, then mittens. Well, one day Freddie came to collect me to play outside. I must have been over tired because on this particular day the 'snow suit' routine had me huffing and puffing, sweating, tired and UGLY! When I finally got outside...Freddie was nowhere to be seen. I searched everywhere and screamed for him...no answer. Then, I followed his footsteps to his door and rang the doorbell (he lived upstairs). There he was...undressed and inside!!!! I am living proof that you are 'born to be' because at 7 years old...without hesitation...I stormed up the stairs and drug him by the neck outside!! I wanted to KILL him! I 'allowed' him a few minutes to go back inside and get dressed...and within minutes we were playing and having fun again. (Sorry Freddie!)

That was our last winter together...Freddie's family moved away. I was never the same. I heard through the grapevine they moved because he told his Dad he couldn't play hockey anymore...because I wanted him to play Barbies! I found out years later that it wasn't my fault...they simply bought a house (they were renting an apartment from my parents). I wish somebody told me that when I was 7...it would have saved me a ton of counselling !!!

I wish as adults, that it was perfectly acceptable to go outside and 'play'...spend hours and hours in the snow for no reason. No television, no deadlines. I don't think there would be any problems with obesity if we all kept our childhood enthusiasm for snow. In fact, I find it almost tragic that the majority of us bitch and gripe about snow in the forecast, snow when it's snowing, and winter in general. Unless we live in the Caribbean, snow is a fact of life...at least 1/4 of our lives every year! What a shame everybody hates it! This year, my stepson had 2 room mates at university who had NEVER seen the snow. One was from India, the other from the Bahamas. The first snowfall of the year...they ran outside in a child-like wonder. They jumped up and down, stuck their tongues out to catch some flakes, made their first snowballs and snowmen and snow angels...and then rushed to call home to tell their parents all about it! Isn't that wonderful?

I have been lucky enough to maintain a child-like excitement whenever it snows...thanks to my days with Freddie. I love the bright and shiny diamonds that glimmer everywhere! I love how it makes the night glow bright. I love the calm and peaceful feeling right after a storm when nobody is around. So, tonight (as always when it snows) I go outside dressed to the max with my hubby Boo to 'play'. Thank God for 2 piece snow suits now!!!! Boo actually cleans out the driveway with the snow blower and I clean the stairs and car off. BUT, I still have that excitement in my belly...and we still fool around and giggle like kids. We usually make snow angels...well kind of...no snow angels tonight (bummer) because I didn't get the opportunity to tackle him into the ground tonight! I am still forcing boys to do what I want! Oddly enough, my husband is a little Frenchman that I 'bully'...and I force him to kiss me!!! I wonder if that has anything to do with finding my own little Freddie?

Lynn
;)

Under the Wagon Wheel

This week end I fell off the wagon...I have slipped right underneath the wheel and into a muddy rut! On Friday night I was "jones-ing" for a Big Mac. This is quite strange because even if I do go to McDonald's I always get a Quarter Pounder meal. I cannot remember the last time I had a Big Mac. Either way, I was going crazy and obsessed with having a Big Mac. I tried all of the diet tricks and mental distraction methods I have learned over the years. I tried drinking a coffee, then crunched on carrot sticks, then made Crystal Lite, then unsalted peanuts...nothing was working. I let 4 hours pass and decided it was no longer a 'flash in the pan" evil thought...it was something that had to be dealt with. So, at 1 am, I trudged up to McDonald's and ordered my Big Mac meal...and a cheese burger...and a cinnamelt!!! The poor cheese burger didn't even make it to the end of the McDonald's driveway. In fact, I do not even recall eating it. I just remember looking down at the empty cheese burger wrapper and wondering where the heck did that go? I don't think I even bit into it... I just inhaled it. I call this my shark response. When sharks gorge on a feast, their eyelids close to prevent blood from the victim getting into their eyes. That was me. I was in such a frenzy...I missed it!

When I got home I slowly enjoyed the Big Mac experience. It was everything I thought it would be...and more! I was in heaven...for a very short time. Then, I savored the Cinnamelt bite for bite...super slow...then licked the packaging dry. I was high and happy for about...5 minutes. Then, the Mc Gurgles settled in...the sweats, the gastric distress...then the overwhelming anger, guilt and shame. I not only sinned...I double sinned by eating very badly at 1 am!!! What the hell was I thinking? (I wasn't thinking...I was like a zombie!).

The good thing is instead of throwing my hands in the air in despair and beating myself to death...I resolved to exercise twice as much the next day to work it off and to get back on track. I am human after all.I went for my weekly walk with my gal pal and step dogs. It was a great walk... as always. I was feeling alot better about myself! Then, I went directly to the store on the way home from the walk and bought cigarettes! I savored Tim Horton's coffee and then smoked and smoked and smoked some more! Instead of going to the gym as planned, I smoked and did nothing! Then, I had to go out for some toilet paper...and came home with chips, dip and a double Mars bar and Coca Cola! I killed the chip dip in about 6 scoops, drank 3 large glasses of coke, then both Mars bars. Again, I had the shark syndrome. I did not recall the actual eating of the treats...just the aftermath...then the overwhelming anger, guilt and shame.

Emotional eating literally BITES!Emotional eating — eating as a way to suppress or soothe negative emotions, such as stress, anger, anxiety, boredom, sadness and loneliness — is sabotaging my weight-loss efforts. I guess I have to do some deep soul searching to figure out why I continue to do this. I cannot pin point exactly why I do not seem to have any will power. I can't figure out why I can't stop smoking and stop eating. Am I just too hard on myself? Or, does everybody go through this? What the hell is wrong with me? Thank goodness I am still exercising...otherwise I would be 100 pounds heavier right now...which is how I feel with that big ass wagon wheel sitting on my chest!

“Willpower is the ability to eat one salted peanut.”

Lynn
;)

I AM NORMAL!!!!

OK, my 100 pound journey is going mighty slow...slower than pouring frozen molasses actually! BUT, instead of giving up and asking "why bother?"...I try to find new things to kick start this damn metabolism! So, I called up my personal trainer Michelle and set an appointment to get my ass kicked this morning...and she did NOT disappoint!

Even though I was well aware that I had this appointment this morning, I went to my Tri Fit swim last night. Now this move was simply stupid! I did 115 laps in the pool last night in an hour. Tri-Fit swim involves 20 warm up laps, 30 laps of just kicking (no arms and flippers), 30 laps of 'pulls' (all arms with paddles to make it harder, no legs), then 30 laps of free (crawl), choice, free. Meaning I do one lap crawl, one lap breast stroke or backstroke, then back to crawl again to equal 30 laps, then sprints, then cool down free swim. Believe it or not...the flippers are an amazing way to isolate your leg muscles and they create a mega thigh 'burn'. Then, the 'pull paddles' near killed me...they basically pull your muscles off the bone...my triceps were on FIRE! Every single lap I thought about the ass-kicking I was going to get from Michelle this morning...and how I was going to regret this in the morning...and that I did!

Michelle is a sadistic chick who is built like a brick shit house for a reason...she obviously feels no pain! She should have been a dentist...because she takes great pleasure in inflicting pain...under the guise of a 'workout'...yeah right! She is one of the few on this planet who gets to tell me what to do... and I do it! She tolerates my whining,inappropriate cussing, groaning and threats. In fact...she laughs at me while I do it...which makes me laugh at myself! This makes me want to kiss her and punch her at the same time! I have no idea how she tolerates me! I cannot understand how or why she doesn't give up on me either. I will not bore you with the details...but I survived a weight-lifting-ab/butt/thigh burning-muscle-exhausting-hair pulling-whining-screaming-begging for mercy- work out extravaganza! I am going to do this every other day.

When I work out, I am so glad that I do not have a neon ticker tape of my thoughts going across my forehead. If people could see what I think in the run of a work out... I'd be locked up in a white rubber room or arrested! Michelle says that she loves it when I come to her aerobics classes because I smile the entire time. Little does she know...I smile when I scream the "F" word in my head and call her dirty names...which constantly happens during her 60 minute torture sessions!!! One second my inner voice say "what were you thinking? You can't do this...quit right now!...she's INSANE!!!" and then I scream silently in my head "Will you F#$% OFF? Leave me alone! I am going to do this!"

At then end of this psycho fiasco today...Michelle asked me if I wanted her to run me through the intense 10 minutes of cardio. As I said "Yes, sure", my devil voice screamed "WHAT!?...Tell her to DRIFT!!!" Onward and upward, I did 1 minute sprints of running, football feet, step ups, jumping jacks, and air punches over and over non stop to 10 minutes. It doesn't sound like much...but it was hell! IN fact, every single minute my devil voice was saying " OK, tell her you've had enough...tell her you are finished...tell her it is OVER!...STOP!" BUT, I kept at it despite myself.

I have an angel and a devil on each shoulder. I fight with them constantly. BUT for some bizarre reason I cannot explain...I keep going back for more...and more...and more... I must admit I am a sucker for punishment. Bottom line is...her classes ROCK and I do love them...but don't let Michelle know that...I count on her sympathy factor for survival! When it was all said and done...Michelle paid me the greatest compliment of all. She told me that I suffered just like a 'normal' person would. I never dreamed in my life that I would take 'normal' as a compliment...but it made my day!!!! I always figured I was slower because I was bigger and not exactly athletically 'gifted'. I always thought that I was WAY behind the pack...very back of the line...but I am not. I am NORMAL! Who'd of thunk it?

One can never consent to creep when one feels an impulse to soar.-Helen Keller

Lynn
;)

Fat Girl Turned Sized 7 Syndrome

When I was in high school I had one of the funnest girlfriends you can imagine. I had so much fun with Susan! I still smile and laugh out loud at some of the capers that we got ourselves into. I must admit I really miss that girl... but she is gone forever. Don't get me wrong, she is not physically dead. The 'shell' of this Susan girl still exists but my awesome girlfriend is long gone.

Susan and I hooked up in high school. We had much fun cuffing classes, cruising in the Cordoba, smoking our faces off, and loads of under-aged drinking adventures and parties. That chick was so cool....until she lost a significant amount of weight. Years ago, Susan came to visit me. Another girlfriend called ahead of time to warn me that Susan had lost ALOT of weight. I was elated for her! I didn't understand the BIG WARNING. I was left scratching my head and I wondered why Susan wouldn't have told me about her weight loss efforts or journey (she lived in Boston).She never mentioned a thing about it in many phone calls over the course of her weight loss. Bizarre.

When she arrived at my apartment, my jaw dropped. She had dropped a whopping 70 pounds and she looked absolutely amazing! I was so happy for her. I will admit I was jealous and sad for me, but I was genuinely happy that she fought and won this weight war. I told her over and over how beautiful she looked. WOW! Then...the ugly monster quickly began to rear her ugly head. She went to my cupboards, opened them up and started to preach about why I wasn't losing weight. I buried my hurt, rage, confusion...and we continued on our merry way out for the night. I could not diagnose what I was feeling when she did that. I rationalized that she was trying to help...but I felt patronized and angry. I wrote this off as my own problem with jealousy and told myself to stop being so foolish.

Let's fast forward. The following year, Susan came to visit me again and we went out to PARTY! I was still fat and she was still skinny. I wasn't feeling too good about myself. We walked into the club and Susan started to point out all of the guys that she was going to have wrapped around her finger before the night was over. I resigned to the fact it was my turn to be the purse holder. A couple minutes later, a guy came up to me and said "hey gorgeous wanna dance?" Then his friend piped in "what about my turn?" I said "take a number"...and proceeded out onto the dance floor to rock my ass off for the next 3 solid hours! I had such a blast! Susan sat on the sidelines with a scowl on her face. When we got home to my apartment that night, I asked "what's the matter Susan?" She answered "I cannot believe tonight! I lost all this weight and you ....DIDN'T!! I didn't get any attention at all". I simply answered "don't hate me because I am beautiful". I meant it as a joke...she didn't laugh. In fact, if looks could kill...I wouldn't be writing this blog!

Next, is our 10 year high school reunion. Susan was an unbearable hair flicking snot!! She strutted into the old high school cafeteria like she was a rock star. She was thrilled at first because nobody seemed to recognize her. But that quickly turned into dismay when she realized nobody REMEMBERED her. She started getting really angry when she had to identify herself as "Lynn's friend Susan". I must admit that I took great pleasure in that! Once she announced she was my tag along...everyone said "oh yeah...you drove Lynn to the parties". I truly loved that. At the end of the weekend, I could not write off my uncomfortable feelings anymore. I told her that if we didn;t have such a long history as friends I would tell her to lose my number and drift! I was not jealous of her weight loss... I was desperately clinging to the friendship we once had. She lost 70 pounds... AND every ounce of her personality!! She had developed a syndrome that I have named " Fat Girl Turned Sized 7 Syndrome". Poor thing..."it don't mean a thing if you ain't got that zing!"

Why Are We So Hard on Ourselves?

So, I put off everything until after my trip to Cuba. For the last 6 weeks, I said I would "get back on my diet", "get back on track","get back to exercise","quit smoking", "yadda, yadda, yadda"...I am back from Cuba...and kind of dragging my knuckles.

I am proud to announce that I did quit smoking when I got back from Cuba. I put the patch on and quit smoking on November.22. I did have a couple of "sneak smokes" and I am glad that I did. I ended up feeling very sick and had wicked headaches both times... so, I am very confident this time around. When something is taboo for me...I desperately have to have it...so cigarettes are not taboo...they are just not desirable anymore. I am pleased with myself for this big accomplishment. I am a little moody, even sookey, BUT instead of talking about it...I did it! I feel so empowered!

Exercise is 150% easier than it was as a smoker. Spinning, with the exception of the 'hole' incident' was an absolute thrill! I swam 120 laps last night like an Olympian. I went to a 'Tone n Tease' class last week that I am still sore from!(I have ALOT more respect for strippers now!)I had a fabulous walk with my galpal and 'step-dogs'. Now that the cigarettes are gone...I really can see myself crossing that finish line for the sprint triathlon in May. No ifs, ands or BUTTS!

So, why am I being so tough on myself? Instead of celebrating...I am maliciously kicking the shit out of myself! Every moment of every day I curse myself up for craving, eating, sleeping too much, not exercising enough,watching TV, being too lazy...whatever. That little powerful voice inside my head keeps chanting..."no you can't", "what are you thinking?" "you'll never be ready" "FATSO"... I think I figured it out... I used to have the cigarettes as an excuse to fall back on. If I failed or struggled with exercise or weight...I could blame the cigarettes. Now, without the smokes to blame...the only blame I have to blame is...me. To be perfectly honest...I am scared to death!I am absolutely terrified.I am starting to look like I am nuts because I swat at that little voice like a bug. I keep telling it to get LOST!!! So why is the little nasty voice still hanging around? Why won't it BACK OFF??? Everybody has this miserable bastard little voice...right?