Once More, With Feeling

I've been meaning to post something here for quite some time, but I've failed miserably, due to a great many factors.  Lack of computer springs to mind.  I moved into my very first apartment in November and, shortly thereafter, my computer died so I've been doing most of my internetting via my phone, which makes updating a blog somewhat difficult.  And the last few months have seen the occasional moments (and, by moments, I mean several week stretches) of being a sad, useless blob on my couch who gets anxious about leaving said couch.  But I think the biggest factor that has prevented my truimphant return to this blog is this:



Except, instead of 120, it says "You are a manatee and none of your clothes fit right"

 After all my hard work last year, I have gained back about half the weight I lost, which partially contributed to it becoming necessary for me to start seeing a therapist, and entirely constitutes the list of Reasons Why I Haven't Written Anything In This Blog Lately.  I can't say it feels great.  It especially feels the opposite of great when you see a doctor for an entirely unrelated reason and they're far more concerned with how you've gone from the "slightly overweight, but close to normal" range to the "you could be mistaken for one of the larger bovine species" range.



Here's me at the beach last week



How did this happen?  Laziness, mostly.  Lack of motivation.  Going from a very active job to a desk job (which I'm actually stoked about, for the record, but it does mean that I'm not using as much energy throughout the day).  But a big one is that I had it in my head that I was preparing for Comic Con, working toward a finish line.  The problem with that approach is that, if you're climbing a mountain and you reach the top, there's nowhere to go but down, back the way you came.  After Comic Con, I decided to take a break.  I decided that I deserved some ice cream.  And In-N-Out. And cake.  And beer.  And you see where I'm going with this. That break has now lasted nearly ten months because I got from Point A to Point B, felt some sense of accomplishment, and stopped.  What I needed to realize was that I can't have a finish line.  There is no Point B.  I cannot see this as temporary.  Not only do I want to get to the point where I can wear the Slave Leia bikini, but I want to stay there.  I can't be on break anymore or ever again.

I live five minutes from a beautiful jogging path right next to the freaking ocean.  I found a grocery store that sells fruits and vegetables for ridiculously low prices.  My roommate goes to a gym that's $10 a month, which I will eventually join.  I have no excuses.  Speaking of my roommates...





It's hard not to be motivated when you live with people who look like that whilst you vaguely resemble the girl who turned into a blueberry at the chocolate factory.

So how do I get back on track?  Well, if it ain't broke, don't fix it.  Everything I was doing last year worked spectacularly.  The only reason it stopped working was because I stopped doing it.  So, I'm back to running on a fairly regular basis and I've even started going for some long bike rides periodically, something I haven't done since elementary school.  I'm also being far more conscious of what I eat and switching back to a salad-based diet instead of one consisting primarily of the hamburger, pizza, and beer food groups.  I've got a small morning workout routine, which has been fairly effective at getting my fat ass out of bed in the morning... always an important step in anyone's day.  I'm doing this.  After a couple of false starts and quite a few obstacles, I'm doing this. 

That's where I am.  Break time is over.  Back to work.