dead weight...

I am going to start off with a very ugly word today. Cankles. Scott, put some depends on, or just plain walk away cuz I know how worked up you get when I go off on my cankles.
Lets start with a friendly vocabulary lesson. Cankles: a word used to describe the unfortunate absence of shapely calves and ankles. When the calves kinda just run all the way down to your heels, if you will.
I was IMing a friend of mine, who will remain annonymous (but I am sure he is prematurely wetting himself thus far into my story) when I noticed an unsightly bulge (that word is just gross) above my heel as I moved my foot around in circles. I guess I was just in cankle denial. And all he could do to make me feel better was reply on IM: ROFLMAO. To those of you who are not on the up and up with computer talk, that means "rolling on the floor laughing my ass off". To which I began my horrible story looking for a little sympathy...hell, I would have even settled for pity. I will not bore you with the whole story. Instead, the reader's digest condensed version: I have a pair of boots that made me seriouly work just to get the dang things on my feet. Getting them to zip up was an impossible feat. So my husband, best intentions in mind, bought me a new pair for Christmas (because I was honestly thinking my old boots were the problem, and not my cankles). So there I am Christmas Eve, turning 8 shades of red, contorting myself in any way I can to make them fit...20 minutes later, I admitted defeat. Bummed. So we went to the store to exchange them, with high hopes (or maybe I was just dillusional) that I would find a pair to fit me. Then, as if it would make me feel better, some 800 pound sales chick tells me she can't find boots to fit her either, and she likes to tell herself that its because she has "muscular calves". Uh huh. Mine would be muscular too if I had to support 800 pounds every day.

Now, I want to say that "fat" is the last word I would use to describe myself. I just don't feel comfortable in my skin right now. I can't use the excuse that I JUST had a baby anymore...that was 8 months ago. I have to come to terms with the simple fact that I have lost every ounce of motivation I ever possessed.

This is what I used to look like. Ahhhh yes...the days of 8 mile runs... And my diet!! A dozen cookies in a day? No problem... A couple cans of pop? No biggie... French fries dipped in my frostie? AMEN! This is what it boils down to: I have NO self control. I like to eat junk--don't get me wrong I eat plenty of healthy food. I love me some fruits and veggies...and whole wheat breads and noodles...but I can't say no to cookies, cakes, brownies, fried artery clogging foods, extra ranch for dipping etc. etc...
So, today I am vowing to myself to put down the sugar, get off my lazy keester and lose some weight. Although, I must add the weight isn't really my issue. Its the inches. Is there such thing as weight displacement? I'm not losing anything, but sometimes I can fit into certain clothes one day, and not the next. I dunno. I do know I gotta find the motivation and shed the jelly rolls and cellulite. Pretty picture to leave you with huh?