Monday, February 21, 2011

Thanks for the stomach virus, my dear sweet Valentine!

I'm Cat, and if I am being honest, I would label myself as fat. If you ask the BMI chart to be honest (and I suggest you only seek that charts counsel after you have had a stiff drink or 10) then I am obese. If you are brave and numbed by an adult beverage, click here to find out your BMI: http://www.bing.com/search?q=bmi+calculator&src=IE-SearchBox&FORM=IE8SRC. I am 5'8" and weigh (or did weigh) 227. That was last week. Before my beloved gifted me the ultimate Valentine's Day present sans the fancy wrapping, foil stamped card and box of chocolates. I got the gift that keeps on giving... for several days. A stomach bug.

I've been in the 220's club for roughly 5 years now. I used to be in the 130's club. Both are exceedingly unhealthy for me. I have lots of solid excuses to point the finger at for my weight since 2005:

  1. I have RA & Fibromyalgia
  2. I'm too tired to exercise & too busy to eat a healthy meal
  3. Diet Coke cancels out anything bad I eat
  4. I can only afford processed food and Chick-Fil-A. And Starbucks.
  5. My big ass and thick legs are hereditary
  6. I have no will power
  7. I can't lose the baby weight (said baby just turned 18 ...years, not months)
  8. My blood pressure meds make me swell and have cankles
  9. I take steroids and other crappy meds because of #1
The truth is I have been lazy and self indulgent. I have likely tried every fad and health wrecking diet out there.  I have a very impressive collection of diet books, exercise DVD's and web print outs full of groundbreaking, miracle diet results. The only thing skinny about me at this point is my checking account. For all of my efforts of yo-yo dieting, eating an ass-load of processed mystery food, drinking swimming pools worth of soda and consuming tons of blood/uric acid/urine/pesticide/hormone laced red meat-  well no wonder I feel like crap and wear a size 18 (yes , I did just tell the entire planet my weight and clothing size). It's no wonder why #'s 1, 5,8 and 9 are my constant nagging companions. This explains why every morning when I am getting ready for work, I curse the bad lighting in my bathroom because that chick in the mirror looks about 50 lbs. heavier than she thinks she is.


So back to the epic three day diarrhea parade I lovingly refer to as V-Day 2011...I have been telling myself (and so has my Dr., daughter, sisters, anyone with eyes) that I need to lose weight. Right now. Since my entire system was dumped after that bug I decided to start clean, so to speak. Lucky for me, my Valentine also was a Vegetarian for 17 years and so I get his knowledge and trusted companionship as I venture into Vegetarianism. It's been an adjustment this past week giving up soda, meat and cheese. I have had my slip ups (Chick Fil A grilled chicken breast on Wed. and cheese on my omelet Saturday) and there have been weird negative responses about my drastic get healthy quest. I was sharing my new food attitude and what I have learned in a short week in the break room today when Lady in Stretch Pants condescendingly asks barks at me, "Everyone HAS to have meat how do you think you will get your protein and stay healthy?". This is when I silently counted to three because, fat or skinny, this Cat will scratch your eyes out. "Deep breathe", to me I say as I picture her as a chemically saturated fat filled Hostess Ding Dong. "Well I won't be getting it from that cheeseburger you have in your hand- that's for certain". From the look on my pals face- that was indeed said out loud. Did I mention I am far, far away from being perfect?

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