Still Shrinking

Sorry for the lack of posts, lately. I'm a freelance writer and I've been extremely busy these past few weeks. Considering that it's feast or famine in my line of work, that's not a complaint - just an excuse ;-)

Fortunately, I have been keeping up with the exercise, diet and tracking. I've really noticed some changes today (my clavicle is starting to show again), this week (my arms are looking sleeker), the past few weeks (as Gabe put it: "You went from having a badonk-adonk-adonk-adonk to just a badonk-adonk!" LOL!)

The scale is still messing with me - though, I am happy to say that it's less and less every day. While I am weighing myself periodically, I'm not feeling like I've been kicked in the stomach - even if the numbers don't reflect how hard I've been working or how much better I look. I also haven't taken my measurements in weeks. I'm making a concerted effort to focus less on all of the numbers and more on how I feel and how I look to MYSELF at the moment. When you have as far to go as I do, that mental recalibration seems to be of the utmost importance.

One thing that is incredibly annoying however, is my tummy. I tend to carry a lot of weight in that miserable lower ab area. What's frustrating about this is that as much as my legs, arms, badonk and waist shrink, if I don't target the lower abs, my clothes don't fit that much better. I mean, of course they do fit better...but no matter how much smaller everything else is, you've still gotta zip up the pants and try to minimize the appearance of the tummy with longer shirts and whatnot. Even when I was skinny, this area drove me nuts. While I know it isn't small by any means, I honestly wouldn't be surprised if my mind was actually blowing it out of proportion.

So, while I have been targeting my abs 2-3x/week, and I've been working to burn fat in general all over my body (cause if you're not getting rid of the fat, I've noticed that stronger ab muscles can actually make the belly even more prominent if you're not careful!)...it's just not enough. I also have to work on my posture. Just sitting up and standing up straight minimizes the look of that trouble area.

Another thing I've been doing is "sucking it in" while at work, watching tv, reading, sitting at my desk (yep, I'm doing it now). This too helps with the posture and apparently every ten seconds of suckage counts as a sit-up. Win!

Improving my posture also seems to put the "girls" back to where they belong - well, as much as they can be, now that I'm in my 30s...that should also help to pull the attention away from other less svelte spots too.

All in all, things are still progressing relatively well. I'm in a good headspace at the moment. I'm content and motivated at the same time and - for the first time in who the heck knows how long - I'm not beating myself up about what I haven't managed to accomplish yet. I'll get there if I let myself.

Reclaiming The Hotness

I want to be hot again. I used to be smokin. Seriously. That's not to say that with a fair amount of makeup, a lot of black clothing and a forgiving lighting scenario, I can't look like a shadow of my former self...an ominously ginormous shadow, but still, my hot self is buried in there somewhere.

For the first few years that I lived in NYC (especially that first year), I looked damn good. I lived with an actor who really pushed me to wear makeup, dress to the nines (even though I couldn't afford it), get my hair done regularly (with the help of my new friend MBNA) and just give a rat's patoot about how I presented myself to the world. Mind you, my mom had been trying to accomplish this feat for years and years and all I did was resist. I also worked at a diner on the Upper East Side and then a somewhat upscale BBQ joint (yep, there is such a thing) and the time I spent on my feet really helped me to shed the pounds I had put on in college. Waiting tables and hosting also allowed me to get my arse pinched on a regular basis by patrons (including a former superstar Mets catcher), which further clued me in to just how darn good I looked.

I actually was mistaken for Britney Spears in Central Park once...and this was before she descended into madness and frumpiness. Back in high school and even in college (before I discovered binge drinking), I was told that I looked like Kelly McGillis and Elizabeth Shue.

These are the silly and superficial things I cling to when I look into the mirror now. As I survey the damage I've done to my once fabulous form, I keep reminding myself that there will be plenty of catcalls and objectifying in my future.

All I have to do is to reclaim my hotness.

(Note: I know there is more to weight loss than the exterior, superficial crap. I know being drop dead gorgeous won't solve all of my problems. I know beauty is in large part on the inside and that I am a damn fine human being underneath all of this flab. I'm good enough. I'm smart enough and blah, blah. That doesn't change the fact that I want to be the object of every jealous woman's scorn and every neanderthal's desire.)