The 'Yikes' title could just have easily been about my weight and eating. According to the scale this morning, I trained for, and ran a marathon and gained weight. On the scale this morning
137 * sigh*
Argh! It isn't my "official weigh in day. Which, let's be honest doesn't happen all that often anymore. Amazing how when you know you have been eating like shit you don't want to weigh yourself. The REALLY scary part is that my eating isn't that out of control for me and I am exercising quite a bit, but apparently it doesn't take too much out of control for me to blow up like the Stay Puff marshmallow man! I can feel the weight gain in my jeans, I can see it in my face. This has been going on for months now.
It. Must. Stop.
I can't seem to get a handle on the food frontier again. I have been cooking (I know, my mother is as stunned as you!) dinners and then packing leftovers for lunch. I am eating out less, but am still sneak eating cake and burritos in the car. (TOTALLY embarrassing to admit, but I am in trouble here. Time to get totally honest) Yes, I am a 38 year old professional woman that keeps plastic forks in her car so that she can buy a HUGE piece of cake and scarf it in the car so no one knows. Well, no one, but her ever expanding ass!
Help...I am feeling very sorry for myself this morning even though I am the only one to blame for this.