Monday, September 19, 2011

3 pounds.

Weight is a constant struggle for me, it always has been and always will be. I really hate it, but most days I accept the fact this is my fate. My family isn't "fat," but just big people. My Mom pushes 6 feet, my Dad and brother are both giants, but they aren't "fat." As children, we ate well and most of the time we ate at home. I recall as a child loving when my Dad went hunting for the weekend because that meant we got to eat Ninfa's on Sunday after church. My parents made home cooked meals and we ALWAYS, ALWAYS had a salad with dinner: This is why I truly believe that a lot of things are genetic. We cannot change our genetics we can only try to make the best decisions that will benefit us and work with our genetics rather than go against them. Well- this weekend I am pretty sure I gained back the 3 pounds I lost last week causing me to go against my 'fat' genetics. Winning. Failing. I am an avid calorie counter...I use to track my exercise and calories. The only problem- I don't have much to track when I drink:

A whole six pack on Friday night.
A whole bottle on Saturday night:
WTH is wrong with me? I mean, I love me some alcohol, but this weekend was off the charts. I woke up with a hangover two days in a row. I didn't even see the doors of the gym all weekend. I didn't eat food except for Taco Cabana at 1am on Saturday. I need to put this ole' gal in check or into AA.

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