Yep. I'm Fat.

I'm sick of being fat. 

There I said it.....My name is Terri, and I am fat.  I have a closet full of clothes.....actually, I have two closets, a huge Rubbermaid tub -- ok, TWO huge tubs,  two sets of "chest of drawers" full and some bags in the attic.....full of clothes.  Now, ask me what I can fit into?

About this time two years ago, I came to this realization and started a boot camp at 5 am in the mornings....3 days a week.  Picture this....Fat girl goes from the COUCH.....to an hour of straight exercise.  And that fat girl is NOT a morning person.  At all.  But she is determined.

I threw up and felt like I had polio for about a week.  It was brutal and my body was screaming....you hear me?  Pain.   But I muddled through the 6 weeks (missing a time or 2, but hanging in there after my friends who talked me INTO it bailed.....Yay me!).  During that time, the kiddos, David and I were meeting friends at the track each night to get a few miles in.  Shin splints, blisters....I pressed on.  This isn't a "cheer for Terri" post.  Because I'm gonna tell you how many pounds I lost during this 6-8 weeks.....4.  FOUR measly "LBS".  Ha!

I was ticked.  First time I exercised in years....YEARS....and nearly killed myself for 4 lbs????  You have GOT to be kidding.  I heard all the "muscle weighs more than fat" business....blah blah blah.  That much work deserves a little scale mobility. 

So I then sought out a doctor.  After all, I was 40.  I needed help.  So I got it.  With his help, a diet pill, no caffeine, and a 1,000 calorie diet (and enough water to float Noah's Ark)....I shed the pounds.  43 to be exact.  I felt like a million bucks.  I felt healthy.  I was a size 6 again.  I was way passed my "goal weight" that the doc set and only a couple from my personal.  Go me!

Then the good ole cancer struck.  Chemo, Steriods, Surgeries.....I blew back up like the good year blimp.  Not Fair. 

So, as I sit here munching on a nutter butter cookie.....and wondering why when today....I wore the same outfit as my daughter did the other day....and she looked SO tall and thin....and I look so round and dumpy. 

It doesn't help that my sweet man tells me everyday how beautiful I am.  And how my son says "You're not fat!  Why do girls ALWAYS say that?".  They are precious.  But I have a mirror.  And I can't breathe when I bend over to paint my toenails.....and I have to lie on the bed to zip my jeans.

I still have little energy.  And I still measure my life in "3 month intervals" instead of just living life.  I breathe each time I get that good report.  And worry until I get it.  Hmmmmmm......Time to change the focus.

Sigh.  Time to do something about it friends.  And soon.  Pray for me, will ya?  Because Twinkies are back on the shelves.  And momma likes to eat.

Song of Songs 4:7
"You are altogether beautiful, my darling, And there is no blemish in you.

In Him,
Terri