Today, I crossed a special marker.
I'd get into more detail, but that'll just have to wait for a future date... when I'm less embarrassed by it.
What I will say, is that today I passed the -50 mark since I first started with this "I don't care if I die... fuck it. I lost the will to live, so let's just fucking do this shit already" food and exercise experiment.
At first it just started as that-- losing the will to carry on, no longer caring for the joys of... anything, not just food. Only real thing I had was gym time. The endorphins released while working myself to exhaustion were really the only things that brought any sense of... enjoyment in life.
Six months later, and I can say I'm... happy with the choice. It's my new lifestyle, and I dig it... even if I sometimes bark at poor, innocent people who happen to be too slow or loud or... in the same room as I.
If we go back to May of '07, the number actually goes up to -70.
Imagine, this post was actually going to be a gripe about something from yesterday... little did I know Mr. Scale would make me a happy girl instead (but let me clarify I don't really care for numbers. What I'm really working for now is volume... as in, muscle volume... well, tone. I don't want to be a pro-lifter or anything, but I definitely want to be firm... none of that bullshit cardio-queen flimsy, soft body. That shit ain't my style. I prefer the "Don't fuck with me" look... 'cause intimidating dudes is what I do).
I'll be angry some other day.
I'd get into more detail, but that'll just have to wait for a future date... when I'm less embarrassed by it.
What I will say, is that today I passed the -50 mark since I first started with this "I don't care if I die... fuck it. I lost the will to live, so let's just fucking do this shit already" food and exercise experiment.
At first it just started as that-- losing the will to carry on, no longer caring for the joys of... anything, not just food. Only real thing I had was gym time. The endorphins released while working myself to exhaustion were really the only things that brought any sense of... enjoyment in life.
Six months later, and I can say I'm... happy with the choice. It's my new lifestyle, and I dig it... even if I sometimes bark at poor, innocent people who happen to be too slow or loud or... in the same room as I.
If we go back to May of '07, the number actually goes up to -70.
Imagine, this post was actually going to be a gripe about something from yesterday... little did I know Mr. Scale would make me a happy girl instead (but let me clarify I don't really care for numbers. What I'm really working for now is volume... as in, muscle volume... well, tone. I don't want to be a pro-lifter or anything, but I definitely want to be firm... none of that bullshit cardio-queen flimsy, soft body. That shit ain't my style. I prefer the "Don't fuck with me" look... 'cause intimidating dudes is what I do).
I'll be angry some other day.
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