Hi there!  Guess what?  I got to go on a SPA WEEKEND! 

Can you say magical?  Because it was.  Heavenly.  Wonderful. Rejuvenating.  Although I am back up to 194, thanks to the extremely rich food I ate and the lack of exercise.  That’s disappointing, but what’s done is done.

My dear friend Beth is turning 30 next week and her husband treated Beth, myself and two other friends to a girls’ weekend.  It was so much fun!  We got to laugh and eat and get pampered all weekend.  Each of us got 5 spa treatments:  Manicure, Pedicure, Facial, Mint Body Wrap and Full Body Massage.  All were great, but I really enjoyed the wrap and massage.  The massage therapist took one look at my legs and asked if I worked out.  Her words: “they are massive!”  Typing that out makes it sound bitchy but her tone made it sound like a compliment.  It was nice that she noticed!

I was able to use the quiet time for a lot of self-reflection.  I really focused on why I keep losing and gaining the same 3-4lbs.  190-194 over and over.  Why am I doing that?

The Fear.

Yep, again.

I am so afraid of the unknown.  It seems so ridiculous when I type it out, but I am.  This weight is my comfort zone. Truly, this is as thin as I’ve ever been as an adult.  I don’t know what life, my body, my will power, my commitment will be like beyond this point. 

Something else that is discouraging me is my actual shape.  This weight loss has left me SO lumpy in my midsection. (see a couple posts down for reference. ugh)  I refer to it as my “built-in fanny pack” because the skin/fat/flab/c-section wasteland is like this fanny pack below my belly button.  It’s just awful and I can’t WAIT until I get a tummy tuck.  Pants just look abnormal on me–either I get extreme muffin top or this yucky, puffy area under the zipper area.  It feels so unfair that even after all my hard work, I still look like shit.  Or at least that area does.  It sucks. Hardcore.

But back to the fear.  Being fat and using food for comfort are what I’m used to.  If I give them up, what do I replace them with?  How do I give them up?  

What if I fail?

Every evening, I promise myself that I won’t snack that night.  And then I do.  I can have a perfect day, food-wise, and then blow it after the kids go to bed.  I am so frustrated!

What if I fail?  Why am I sabotaging myself? I don’t know how to put this any other way:  I’ve always been good at every thing I’ve ever tried.  I don’t quit and I don’t fail. Those have never been options in my brain.  I got great grades that came easily.  I make and keep wonderful friends.  My kids are pretty darn awesome.  My marriage is better than ever.  I’ve never really failed at anything.  Except for weight-loss.

I know, I know–I have lost roughly 40lbs.  Those 40lbs were a walk in the park compared to the 30lbs I’ve got left.  Seriously.  If I had known how hard this would be 9 months into this, I doubt I would have started at all. But I’ve come so far. Too far to quit, that’s for sure.

I don’t quit and I don’t fail.

What if I fail?

I don’t quit and I don’t fail.

Maybe if I say it often enough, it will be a self-fulfilling prophesy.