Well, thanks to TB shaming us all opening up the opportunity, I think I’m just about ready to have Brian take some Before pictures of me. I haven’t decided on my attire for them just yet, but I can tell you one thing – the sports bra I just bought (what I lovingly refer to as the Medieval Boob Pincher of Doom) is not going to be as prominently displayed as what I’d first planned. Maybe. I don’t know – can you tell I’m still a little indecisive about this?
So I have the next four days off from work, and during that time there’s a good chance I’m going to come in contact with some food stuffs I haven’t allowed myself to indulge in for awhile. Since I started back exercising, I haven’t managed to do diddly-squat (squats?) in the morning, but instead have been consistenly successful doing my thing in the evening/nighttime hours. I believe that’s all going to change for the next few days for a couple of reasons:
1. It’s always easier for me to get up early and be motivated to accomplish stuff when I’m not under the time constraints of getting ready for work. Just knowing I have the whole day stretched before me to do whatever I want makes me feel happy and free and well, you get the idea.
2. By getting the work-outs over with in the morning, should I come in contact with some naughty eats later, at least I’ll know I’ve already done my Good Work for the day and maybe, just maybe, that’ll keep me from overdoing it too much. Maybe.
But I was thinking about this carefully. I’m thankful that at this early stage of the game the holiday upon us is July 4th and not those famous diet-killers, Thanksgiving or Christmas. We’re talking corn on the cob, watermelon, and grilled meat vs. casseroles, gravys, and the stick-to-your-ribs (and ass) starches we feel the need to eat in the wintertime to ensure our protective layer of fat stays firmly put. You know, because we still live in caves and don’t own any coats.
Of course, I know this doesn’t mean I have license to go buck wild or anything. Corn on the cob is perfectly fine unless I drown it in salt and butter which I’ve been known to do. And I don’t make my strawberry shortcake with the traditional low-cal, no-fat angel food cake like you’re supposed to. No, the recipe I have is way more tastier and ridiculous than that.
But, as I commented to TB after he had the nerve to mention some orgasmic french toast, holidays are for fun and if that fun includes letting go of some of our self-imposed dietary rules, then hey. You know? That wagon will be there patiently waiting for all of us to climb back up on next week. I know in the dieting world it’s wrong to think in terms of “I deserve this,” but dammit, we do.