Day 7: October 10,2010

Here I sit, on the bed of my hotel room with my bff. (and god only knows what body fluids have been poured into the fibers of the bed cover we sit upon. Ewwww!). The bff that I sit with was very instrumental in my passionate germaphobic paranoia as it was her Mom who paved the germaphobic way for me. From hovering over toilets, to flushing with my foot, to NEVER EVER putting my purse on a counter or table, never sharing a drink or a fork and absolutely never sitting on the bed cover of a hotel room as I am doing right at this very moment! Oh if her Mom knew about the germs at the gym. But that really has nothing to do with anything.

As bff and I sit here and discuss our weight loss adventures, one thing has proven true for both of us. We both want to find our "inner hotness" again. You know, to walk past a mirror and not feel repulsed or horrified at the extra baggage, the lines and of course all the history. As we sit here, we realized we have been friends for 20 years. And over the span of those twenty years, we have loved each other through thick and thin (literally). I have been every weight in the last 7 years. That's right. My lightest, my heaviest and now I'm stuck in the horrifying world of in-between. My friend cannot believe that she tipped the scale last year at a whopping 205lbs while pregnant with her last child. Women everywhere struggle with weight, weight loss and weight gain. Why is it that if a guy is over weight, it's okay? In fact, they are even allowed to age. It's okay if they are grey, withered and saggy. But if a woman is any one of those three, she is automatically disqualified having her "inner hotness" stripped from her with no shred of dignity or self-esteem left.

As I stood in the office of my trainer for my body comp last week, I was reminded how bad I really felt about myself. The fat calipers have a way of being brutally honest. That's right, my friends, she used fat calipers on me. She measured every fold of skin and there I stood feeling humiliated. She asked me if I was comfortable dropping my pants so that she could get an accurate measurement of my thigh. OF COURSE I AM NOT COMFORTABLE. But I needed to know the truth. And the truth be told, if I would have managed my body and health better, I would not have to stand in her office with my pants down and suffer the accurate honesty of the fat calipers. It was a very sobering moment. Alas, when the truth is known, it does set you free in a sense. It reveals the unknown and uncovers that which is hidden. How can I change without first measuring the truth, then setting reasonable goals and then celebrating my success?

Goodnight Bloggosphere!