Confession 51: Tipping the Scales

I should be on my way home to exercise right now, but I just don’t want to. It’s been raining for a week and a half and I’m tired and am enjoying the quiet of my empty classroom. I’ve been fighting the Battle of the Bulge again, but my heart just isn’t in it. After having Stephen I joined Weight Watchers and lost almost fifteen pounds. I was nursing, so I got tons of points and it was, really, pretty easy. I quit Weight Watchers after I stopped nursing and lost all of my extra points. I thought I could go it on my own and save $20 or so a month. I was exercising regularly and doing okay, until Spring hit. Spring is always a busy season. Warmth returns and people go crazy planning events. It’s also the end of the school year in which we teachers try to ram everything we haven’t gotten to over the past eight months into our student’s with one fell swoop.

I’ve also had to accept the fact recently that I am an emotional eater. It doesn’t really matter what emotion I’m feeling, I eat my way through it. Call me an equal opportunity eater! So, the pounds are slowly coming back on. To top it off, several of my friends are having great weight loss success this spring, and although I’m very happy for them, it leaves me feeling a bit demoralized and strangely rebellious. Some latent jealousy creeps up and I decide to strike back at healthy people everywhere by eating a few cupcakes. Where is the logic in this?!

My husband, with his keen pastoral sensibilities, told me that I wasn’t going to lose weight by wishing it away and that I basically had three options: 1) eat less and healthier, 2) exercise more and eat what you want in moderation, 3) accept your weight and stop complaining. I’ve sort of started a combination of all three, which I think isn’t really the point. I don’t know why God couldn’t have created our bodies to run on chocolate instead of fiber. Carbohydrates could have served us much better than vitamins, right?

Oh well… so much for wishful thinking. I guess I’ll go home and make a salad and chase the kids around the house for awhile. That’s got to count for something, right?

Blessings and Peace,
Sara

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