lay off me, I'm starving!

I am overweight.  Let's just lay that out there on the table right now.  Am I still pretty?  I like to think so.  Stylish?  By all accounts.  Chic?  It's my daily goal.  But over the past five years, I've put on a significant amount of pudge.

It started as a knee-jerk response to my previous job, which made me miserable in every sense of the word.  So I ate my stress and anxiety away, all day, every day.  I worked there for just under two years, during which time I managed to gain a whopping 70 lbs.  That's an entire emaciated celebutant!  

After I left that job, I pleaded with my parents for an early birthday gift of a few months with a personal trainer.  Being probably far more concerned with my health and weight than even I was, they readily agreed.  And so I dove back into a life of fitness.  Pain, struggle, effort, diet...I was told by friends that it was as though I was training to run an Iron Man.  And I was dedicated!  And before long, the weight started dropping off and I lost a good 15 lbs and more importantly, toned up my body.  I was feeling great!  I couldn't be stopped!

Then I moved across the country and into an apartment with my boyfriend.  And familiarity and comfort and the omnipresent boy-foods that filled our cupboards thwarted my previous efforts.  Before long, I had not only gained back the 15 lbs the trainer helped me to shed, but had added another 20 lbs on top of that.  Let's face it.  I was F-A-T, fat.  

I finally reached the point where enough was enough and signed my lazy ass up for Weight Watchers Online.  I figured if I was going to spend all day, every day, online, I might as well add a productive website to my routine.  And it has been helpful.  Last year, when I first joined, I lost 35 lbs in three months.  I felt fantastic!  And then I was bit once again by the lazy bug and gained the weight back.  Since re-joining this year, I've lost another 25 lbs and have vowed that I will continue to plod away until I get back down to a healthy weight for a thirty year old woman.

There's something empowering about losing weight.  Having clothes you haven't been able to touch in years suddenly fit you again is liberating and exciting.  And every time you step onto the scale and find a lower number than the week before, it's new incentive to keep up your hard work.

So why is it that I'm craving such shit food all of a sudden?  I declared this past weekend a points-free weekend.  Decided I was simply taking a break from counting and being accountable to my Weight Watchers Points Tracker.  But when this morning rolled around and my head felt like it had been the victim of a Mack truck hit and run, the last thing on my mind was tracking.

So as a little experiment...this week I am going to try to refrain from tracking while still keeping up a quasi-healthy diet.  My stomach doesn't crave the same seam-splitting portions I could throw back two years ago, so hopefully I'll be ok.  This is purely a scientific study, though.  I'm not technically "cheating" on my diet if it's in the name of scientific research, right?

And anyway, Diet Coke erases the calories from a junk-filled meal, so what do I have to lose?  

As a side note, how old do you have to be to get your mother to stop harping on you about your weight?  Because I've tried unsuccessfully for the past eighteen years to get my mom to lay off, and she still doesn't seem to get it.  Yes mom, I do want to eat those empty calories.  I happen to love the empty calories that potato chips and peanut butter provide!  

Lay off me, I'm starving!  Diet starts Monday!  Tee-hee.

Ten points to the first person who gets that reference.  I'd give you more, but that's an easy one.