So...I'm chubby and this is a hard pill to swallow. I don't say fat because that sounds hopeless. Chubby still sounds like I have a chance at losing weight. Even if I've been on this weight loss roller coaster for 20+ years.
When I became Mrs. Fairchild I packed on 40 pounds and Mr. Fairchild lost 40 pounds. Apparently I found every single last one of his. AND, because he started eating broccoli. AND because I had to start eating cheese on it so everybody else would eat it.
Also my absolute love of cooking doesn't help either. Nor does my love of dairy. Ice cream rocks.
The "ah ha" moment happened recently when I was trying to zip my pants by laying on the bed. Maggie thought I was playing a game and she laid on the bed too. But I stopped because I didn't want her to do the "roll off the bed" like I have to. She'd probably fall off and break her arm.
So I figured I should start working out. Today I chased cattle. Here I'm thinking, "the weight should be peeling off my body by running
I also started a workout tape at naptime, but it wasn't fun anymore after I was trying to march in place and "grapevined left" right onto a small lincoln log. Ouch!
Now, Big D and I are going on vacation at the end of the week. It's Monday today and I plan on losing 50 pounds by Friday.
Okay, that's not realistic.
I'll safely try for 30. Maybe I'll be attacked by the cougar roaming around here and he'll eat my fat thighs and leave the rest of me to wear the same pants I did in high school.
"I can find a rainbow in everything" Fairchild Farmgirl