Jason Vorhees Just Wanted a S’mores

October 31, 2011

Today I had what I would refer to as a “serial killer moment.” That’s the moment when you realize exactly what kind of nothing could push someone over the edge. For me it was the inability to locate my coffee mug.

What could possibly make misplacing a coffee mug the hair trigger event that would drive me to The Dark Place? Low blood sugar. (I am quite certain that all Michael Myers needed was a hug and a piece of string cheese.)

Today was the final trial run before embarking on a November Biggest Loser Challenge with some friends online tomorrow. Aside from my fear of taking pictures of the scale, I’m having a hard time coming to terms with having to keep my food journal again. I’ve been keeping it, just not religiously. And keeping it religiously is the only way I lose weight. Honestly, I am hoping that this competition and having to text someone pictures of my scale are the motivation I need to shake this last 20-25 pounds.

I’ve been great about working out; it’s the food that’s the problem. There’s something broken in my head, something that keeps saying, “it’s okay, you can be done now,” when it comes to counting calories. That couldn’t be farther from reality – I will never be done counting calories, because I will never be someone who can eat sixteen hundred calories a day and not gain weight. I will never be someone who doesn’t have to watch their food intake, someone who doesn’t have to work out six days a week. (For the record, if you are one of these people, you shouldn’t tell me because I will hold it against you.)

So… here goes nothing.

P.S. My boss was holding my mug hostage in his office. Apparently I “left it there,” a likely tale.

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Diary of a serial dieter.

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