Lard Log Volume 1

Two days after Christmas, I could take it no more.  I couldn’t wait until the New Year to start.  Actually, I saw no point in it.  The lard has overtaken me.  I am one with the blubber.  It must leave my body posthaste. 

 

Fourteen months of being nicotine free has been a small, yet lardishly large, price to pay.  I smell better, although I’m now able to notice a disgusting odor that hangs on to my former smoking buddies.  I’m no longer a social leper.  I don’t worry about where I’ll be able to light up when going to every function.  No more passing up a piece of Death by Chocolate cake to have time to run outside and light up at lunch.  No more passing up any food item.  Period.    

 

I can’t say I’ve saved any money, though.  What I didn’t spend on tobacco, I spent on food.  I’ve bought two entirely new wardrobes.  I’m not really breathing any easier, as the lard has encroached on my midriff and lungs.  I wheeze from obesity.  I waddle.

 

I hate having my picture taken.  I hate meeting new people.  I want to qualify every meeting with “Hello!  It’s nice to meet you.  I don’t normally look like this.  When you meet me in the future, I’m hoping you won’t recognize me due to the resumption of my former, svelte figure.”    I don’t want to see people I know.  I don’t want them to look at me and think “Whatever happened to Ina?”  I know that’s what they’re thinking.  I was quite the middle-aged hottie before I was nicotine free. 

 

So, the diet began before the New Year did.  Kevin brought the dolly in from the shed and helped load me into the truck.  He drove me to the nearest weigh station on the turnpike, where we were graciously allowed to use the scale.  He brought me home and I rolled myself into the house.  I ate a carrot.  I drank nine gallons of water.  When I got up on the treadmill, I was sure I could hear the beams in the house creaking.  I feared crashing through into the dining room.  I’m hoping to develop anorexia.

 

I forged forth.  Two days ago, I thought my left boob felt lighter.  I hefted it around a few times and decided it wasn’t a hallucination. I compared it to my right boob.  No, my right boob was the same, but the left had definitely deflated a bit.  I hope unequal boobs aren’t  going to be a trend.  I had a beer to compensate.  Then I had three more.  Oops.

 

I stepped on the scale this morning, a full fourteen days into the fray.  I’m down 3.3 pounds.  Since I’m doing an every other day diet to fool my sluggish metabolism, that was the result of only seven days worth of dieting.  I think I can live with that. 

 

I have to remember to keep my goals small and attainable.  My current goal is to be able to see my pubic hair – even a glance of it just once – by the end of the month.

 

I’ll keep you posted.

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20 responses to “Lard Log Volume 1

  1. I’m so touched, I may have to eat a frozen Crunch bar to control myself! 😀

  2. Please think of me while you’re eating it, okay?

  3. This is hysterical. I laughed, until I cried. That’s when I looked at my own lard ass in the mirror. I’m with you, Ina. I just worked out for 20 minutes and thought I was going to die. If I’m going to die, I’d better be slim and trim.

  4. LFC ~ Remember to salivate for me, too.

    Pan ~ Thank you! I forgot to get on the treadmill this morning before I got dressed. I’m feeling negligent. I’ll go walk around Kohl’s for a couple of hours to compensate.

  5. Pingback: Does Getting Old Really Mean I’m Now Fat and Can Only Wear Ugly Clothes? « Pandemonic’s Time & Space

  6. zombie ~ Sometimes they don’t and sometimes they do. You have to incorporate new eating habits into the maintenance portion of your program. I only gained because I quit smoking. I quit another time and took all of the weight off and kept it off until I started smoking again and needed to quit again.

    Thank you, Pan! Youse is a sweetie!

  7. SOMETIMES as in less than 5% of the time. Statistically, they don’t. 🙂 It may fall on deaf ears, but a little bit of reading could do wonders for your health and self-esteem.

  8. Hi, my name is Jackie (“Hi Jackie!”), and I’m a former skinny person. I quit smoking in April 2006 and gained twenty pounds. I needed ten of those pounds, but the other ten? Not so much. I was going to the gym and firming up and almost (but not quite) fitting into my former clothes before the holidays hit, but from Thanksgiving to New Years I used time I would normally spend at the gym to consume massive amounts of unnecessary calories. Now I can’t even fit into my fat pants.

    You are not alone.

  9. But I went to the gym twice this week. I noticed that the gym is jam-packed. It’s either New Years resolution people or my Biggest Loser-watching compatriots. We’re all looking a little squishy.

  10. zombie ~ As a nurse, I concur with you on most parts. My self esteem is only hurting because this weight is new for me. It’s not healthy for me to be this heavy. I’m uncomfortable, physically. There’s no getting around those last 2. I appreciate and certainly do agree with what you say, it’s just not right for me. At least not at this time. If I’m still struggling with it in 2 years, I may give up and accept it. By then, maybe I’ll have learned to breathe through the blubber. In the meantime, I need to get healthier.

    Jackie ~ Welcome, my fellow Pudge Person. Together we can overcome this, as long as no one tries to take my beer away.

  11. When I get a job, it’s going to be a huge pain in the ass — no pun intended — to try to get into my old work clothes again. So I guess I should try to find a job I can do in my pajamas, right?

  12. Being home for five years has left it spare tire marks around my waist too. The good news: I’ve lost a pound a week since going back to work.

    You can do it!

  13. Oops! That should have been “its spare tire marks”.

  14. tigereye ~ I’m about at that point right now. I had to do something because I refuse to buy more fat pants. I’m down to one pair of jeans that I can get up but not buttoned and 2 pairs of cords. It’s boring getting dressed for work when your choices are limited to brown cords or beige cords. If I was able to work in my jammies, I may never have tried to lose weight.

    Shawn ~ I have to remember those baby steps. A pound a week. Pubes by the end of the month…

  15. I cannot ever remember having a personal goal involving pubic hair. I knew a guy in college, however, who was so flexible that he was able to entertain himself in a most astonishing manner. But I don’t think losing weight has anything to do with that.

  16. David ~ When you become a middle aged woman, many of your goals revolve around pubic hair.

    (I would have loved to have seen that guy’s act. Or not.)

  17. Hi, I’m Wanda (hi Wanda!)….

    Embrace the lard mom, embrace the lard.

  18. When I’ve held the lard for at least 2 years, Wanda,I’ll embrace it. For now, I fight it.

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