Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Badonkadonk - The Reality Series

Tonight I went to aerobics. Oh, be nice. I have been going to the same gym for the past twelve years...off and on...(mostly OFF lately...which is the problem) and I feel quite at home there. So, imagine my surprise when I was walking across the room to get some water, and I saw a glimpse of something following me in the mirror.

Oh yes. My badonkadonk. And from what I could see...it needs its own zip code.

How did this happen? I mean, I know how much I weigh because I make the little Weight Watchers scale in the bathroom at work cry every Thursday before it flashes up a number that would make SEC defensive linemen proud. I used to live in denial, but no more. I had to drop out of Weight Watchers (formerly known as "Rehab") because I already know everything that they talk about. I figured that it made more sense to set that $14 a week on fire and just save the two hours of drama every week for all of the good it was doing. It is an excellent program, don't get me wrong. If you haven't been...and want to try it...you should. But I need something a little bit more hard-core. Like being locked in a room with Jillian Michaels for about a year. Or perhaps being let out of a vehicle in the middle of the desert with nothing but water for 40 days.

Ah, I'd just retain the water. SO unfair.

Before the "sighting," I had wondered why I was so tired after 20 minutes on the eliptical machine not to mention why nothing looks decent on me anymore. Now I know...it's the monkey on my back. Or more correctly...my back end.

I've done difficult things in my life. I've had two children. I've walked 60 miles in three days to raise money for breast cancer on two occasions. I've moved a child into a dorm room on the 11th floor on the same day that 900 other girls moved in and we had to wait for the elevator for hours...in August...in the south. I've been blessed out by crazy people and I've potty trained my dogs. I've been a banker for 25 years, and have been married almost as long. I've lost people I've loved and I've had surgery at least seven times.

Frankly, losing the weight can't be as hard as it will be when I have to drop off my youngest at the college of his choice in a year and a half. There are days that I miss my daughter, but thanks to the wonder of text messaging...it is almost like having her at home...so I'm coping.

Today showed me something that I didn't want to know...but really needed to see. I can't let my guard down or else I'll end up on one of those reality shows where someone has to be taken out of their house with a crane. I think not.

Oh well, my goal is to just get rid of it before I give it a name and welcome it to the family. Unless, of course, I can claim it as a dependent on my taxes. Hmmm....

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