I sit here on the couch contemplating how 2006 has gone so far, and I can't help but think that this year is going to go down as "one of those years" in my life where nothing seems to go my way. Just when I think I can deal with one crisis, life seems to throw me another punch, and I'm back to trying to pick myself up off the floor again. And to top it all off, I've completely let myself go again with respect to my weight. Back in January, I was at an all-time low of 173 and feeling absolutely incredible. Twenty-three little pounds away from reaching goal. It was right there in front of me. And then life just seems to throw all these things at me, and I again turn to food. May 8 was my yearly physical, and I found myself staring in disbelief at the scale as the nurse announced "206lbs". Later that day, I began to realize that my weight seems to be a visible barometer for how I'm doing on the inside. Anyone who knows me well enough should be able to look at me and immediately tell how my life is going at that particular moment. I've had a horrible start to my year, and I've got the extra 33lbs since January to prove it.
But I'm desperately trying to look at the bright side through all of this. I'm three weeks into my plan of eating better and making it to the gym for the first time in months. I'm already back down to 193. I've signed up for another 5K next month and am training to beat my old time. And I just realized that at this time last year, I weighed 228lbs, which had been the result of overeating from deep depression over my new husband leaving for a 6-month deployment. So when I look at it that way, forget the fact that I've yo-yo'd, I am still down 35lbs from this time last year. And that feels pretty good.
Monday, May 15, 2006
Our cat Fergie is a rather new addition to our household. We rescued her from the shelter in January 2006, and she's been a real treat ever since. She's a little over 3 years old, she's tortoiseshell in color, and we're guessing she was abandoned due to her constant hairballs and excessive shedding. Other than that, I don't know how anyone could've given her up. She's incredibly affectionate, loves to chase her toy mice around, and will watch the lizards on our balcony for hours. We named her after the Duchess of York because she's got some red hair mixed into her coat, and she could stand to go on Kitty Weight Watchers. And we're learning more and more that she's a high-maintenance princess - so "Fergie" fits in many ways.