What’s the first thing you did this fine New Year’s Day? Was is wake up at 8am and come bolting downstairs to pee off as much of yesterday’s bloat as possible and hop on the scale?
This fine January day begins Round 2 of the Battle Royale that is the ‘biggest loser’-esque weight loss challenge I’m competing in with a friend (whom shall remain nameless unless she outs herself on her bloggy as well so I can link her …) and new to this second round, my mother. This is some cuthroat competition. This round of the challenge goes from New Year’s Day to Memorial Day. That’s 21 glorious weeks of trash talking, clean eating, and scale watching. We’ll weigh in every Friday, just like last time when we changed the weigh in day to pre-weekend as to avoid the influence of beer from the weekend on Monday. On Memorial Day, the person with the highest percentage lost will take the prize (which this round is CASH MONEY! Yes!). There are no other rules. No diet plans. No checkpoints or requirements. F that jazz. You do what you do, whatever works for you, and you get on the scale every week. No questions asked. If what you’re doing works, you’ll see progress. If not, change it up and try again. This laissez-faire approach does not mean we will not needle the hell out of each other with totally unsupportive bantor for the love of fun and competition.
And, for the record, I WON the last round by uh, 4+ percent. Yea. I’m a badass. The problem, of course, is that the last round ended on Thanksgiving and the new one didn’t start until today. On the one hand, it probably should have started right away to keep us honest through the holidays, but uh … yea, who the hell tries to lose weight while rolling out sugar cookies and two fisting eggnog? Not I. Not anyone with any real level of success. We cut out losses ahead of time and called December a mulligan before we even started last time. Somehow, at my house, this spiraled into “Eat-As-Much-Garbage-As-You-Possibly-Can-In-31-Short-Days”, and I will confess to being a little terrified this morning of what was going to show up on the trusty scale. You mean, I didn’t weigh myself for the whole month of December?! Ha, no. Sure didn’t. What am I, some kind of masochist?
I closed my eyes while the numbers counted up this morning, not wanting to look at the damage my month long departure from the realities of real food and oh, silly things like, GLUTEN INTOLERANCE may have caused. But, then!
YES YES YES YES YES!
Muahahahahaha! I am all that is …
Ok, let’s not get too excited. You heard it here first. My starting weight for Round 2 is the exact same as my final weight from last time, even with an entire month of crap eating in between and what feels like 40 extra pounds of bloated post-holiday gross that I’m carrying around with me. Yay!
So, what’s the first thing I did after receiving this fabulous news this morning? Stood in my pantry, decided I was too lazy to make oatmeal, and went with an oatmeal cream pie for breakfast instead. Yea. I’m sure going places fast. Ha. My ‘New Year’ starts on Monday (and not in that traditional kind of ‘I’ll Start My Diet on Monday .. no, next Monday, no, next Monday’ sort of way) which was decided and announced long before the holidays lest you think me some scandalous slacker. We’re leaving shortly for a wedding weekend on the East Side and long car rides + hotel food + reception food I can’t control + rehearsal dinners + being 25 minutes from THE BEST PITA ON THE PLANET + having leftover holiday candy in my bag = a really bad way to start a year. So, I moved it. To Monday. I know my limits.
I’ll be back sometime before then to fill you in on my other, not fatty related New Year’s plans. I’m a wee bit OCD and a habitual list maker, so it should be fun! Now, time for a frantic shower, last minute packing where I inevitably forget my toothbrush and my Blackberry charger, and then 3+ hours of nail biting terror through the frozen tundra of MI. Joy! Glorious joy!