I've never been one of those girls who worries and panics about her weight. In fact, I used to make fun of girls like that.
But I just landed in Los Angeles and even though I'm still in my flight clothes, I can feel the self consciousness creeping in.
It's been a while since I was last on here, and a lot has changed. I won't get into all of it, but it's been enough to stop my workouts and subsequent weight loss.
Laying on this hotel bed, where there's a scale just inside the front door, I'm reminded of just what I was doing it all for: me.
I started saying things like "I don't have time to run today" and instead of making the time I just went on with my day.
And yeah, it's always packed full of things to do, but I'm back to being the heaviest I've ever been in my life.
I'm tired of this yo-yo crap. I need to make a lifestyle change if I ever want to get anything accomplished.
Damn does that depress me.
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