Down the Good Life

Milkshakes, Paxi's Pizza, Blue Bottle lattes and waffles. That was when I was pregnant, but last night, nearly two months after birth, cruel reality set in. My pre pregnancy jeans barely closed and a soft, generous fat blob set right over the edges like the bread dough that has risen over the rim of a too small pan. Not a pretty sight. It was my low point, the rock bottom. No more looking at post pregnancy pictures noticing only the "skinny" parts as I hoard the chocolate in my night stand so my husband wouldn't see me mechanically place it in my mouth after dinner hours, like a bad tick.

It's depressing, it's embarrassing, it has to change. Yet knowing my own over abundant enthusiasm, I jacked myself up on caffeine with skim milk and splenda, now pacing the house frantically back and forth in a panic attack, wondering how in the world will I pull this off. But as with anything, if you want it badly enough, if it's that important, then it has to be done.

Right now it's 1pm and so far I had a banana and a cup of low fat kefir. I'm feeling good. In another hour and a half I have a 7 mile long run. I ask the spirits of nature to give me the strength

to do this. Running long and dieting is a sure recipe for disaster, but I signed up for a half in early November, so who wants to throw $80 down the drain? Not I sir, I will sweat the trek and cry for hunger, but will emerge as a true champion of the Park house (inside joke).

Dieting no doubt is hard, if it were easy, Rochester Big and Tall and Lane Bryant wouldn't grace the mall outlets. Instead Coney Island's Gyro Corner would be named "Only 2 Points!" for your Weight Watchers diary collection.

But, Sam thinks it's easy. He says it's the easiest thing a person can control. Really, so a person with bulimic tendencies and nightly dreams of all you can eat bouffe's is just needlessly "complicating" things for herself? Perhaps if it were true, no such notion would exist as 'it's in your head." I wish it weren't, but biking up a steep hill and feeling like you're about to pass out from the effort all in the hopes of kicking serious ass at the next triathlon sure sounds a lot better and "easier" than dieting. Have you ever sat on a couch trying NOT to think about the sushi on the table? Only if you have the iron will of my husband. Sometimes I think he was abducted by aliens and they implanted tiny emergency shut off doors between his certain synapses, so when the dough rises too high they automatically sound an alarm, and boom, out of mind and a month later he loses 30 lbs. Freaky...