Oompa Loompa, doopa dee do

Most of the time, I don’t care that I’m paler than Edward Cullen (yes, I just made a Twilight joke — deal with it). I mean, I could apply self-tanner if I really wanted to, but ain’t nobody got time for that.

So, a few months ago, I bought an online deal for an airbrush spray tan, which I finally redeemed this week. I didn’t think I was that orange until my boyfriend started singing, “Oompa Loompa, doopa dee do…” when I walked through the door. Of course, I laughed, but inside, I felt kind of shitty.

Earlier this week, I was feelin’ great. The scale was my friend. My confidence was renewed. Hell, I even spouted some motivational words in my last few posts, something I rarely do. But the last few days have been tough on me emotionally, and it’s wreaked havoc on my healthy eating.

I’ve been super down all week, which scares me because I don’t know if it’s just a blue day or if the depression that plagued me for so many years is creeping back. (I like to think it’s just a blue day and this weekend will bring sunshine, lollipops and rainbows.)

I’ve barely been home all week, too, which means I’ve been eating out. A lot. I’ve been trying to eat as clean as possible, but sometimes it’s hard to find a healthy alternative in restaurants, let alone a clean-eating one. That, coupled with stress, anxiety and my stupid toe bothering me, has left me feeling, well, defeated.

I know I’ve made great progress so far (hurrah!), but I have had several consecutive fat days this week. Yes, I’m 16 pounds lighter and more toned, but let’s be realistic here: I am still a fat girl. I still need to shop in the plus-size section. I still have back rolls. My thighs still chafe from rubbing together. Sigh.

I’m not going to let this defeatist attitude stop me, don’t get me wrong. My confidence has just been shaky at best this week, and the Oompa Loompa joke did not help. (I know shit like this is why guys think women are crazy. In this case, I don’t disagree with them.)

Even though I bear a striking resemblance to a carrot as of late, I am going to try and re-gain my confidence. How do y’all manage when you’ve been having a string of all-too-familiar fat days?


Don’t stop believin’

Like most fat chicks trying to lose that extra jiggle, I have my good days, during which I eat nothing but healthy, clean foods and exercise my boo-tay off.

On the flipside, I also have my bad days, when one multi-grain tortilla chip (“just to have a taste”) turns into 20, and I spend hours watching bad reality TV (Jerseylicious, anyone?) instead of heading to the gym.

Hey, I’m only human. It’s hard to maintain this lifestyle when you’re used to gorging on potato chips then passing out in a food coma, with greasy fingers and crumbs all over your face.

I still have my ‘off’ days when I’m tempted to do just that, usually when I’m uber-stressed. But more often than not, I don’t actually follow through. I think of how hard I’ve worked and how much progress I’ve made in these two months. Yes, I may eat a few too many tortilla chips once in a while, or skip a day or two of exercising, but I just remind myself that I know that I can sustain this lifestyle. I seem to have found some sort of inner strength that I never even knew I had; I suppose it was just lurking under the thick layer of blubber covering my body.

I’ve interacted with so many strong women through this blog, and they’ve provided me with more support and encouragement than I could have ever dreamed of. For that, thank you. This is my advice to anyone having one of those “I just want to eat everything in sight” days: remember, you can do this. Heed Journey’s (albeit cheesy) advice and don’t stop believin’ in yourself.

(Did I really just go all motivational on you? I don’t even know myself anymore.)

The dreaded weekly weigh-in: week eight

Starting weight – 229.6 lbs
Last week – 215.6 lbs
This week – 213.6 lbs

Total weight lost – 16 lbs

I should really rename these posts from the “The dreaded weekly weigh-in” to “Hell yeah, I am kicking some major weight-loss ass!”

I used to dread stepping on the scale every Monday, not knowing which number would show itself. But I’ve seen a steady decline every week, motivating me more and more, despite the occasional “OHGODINEEDACUPCAKE!” near-diet-breaking thought.

I do want to lose 50 pounds by the end of the year, and I’m on track to do that (barring any major plateaus, knock on wood). I’m not focusing solely on that number, though — I’m looking at how my clothes fit (if anyone has a spare belt, holla at me) and how healthy and strong I feel. Based on that criteria alone, I’ve hit the home run.

Happy Monday, everyone!