You're Kidding Me, Right?!!

That is what I shrieked when I weighed in and they told me I was down nearly a pound. I was loud, shrill and am sure I didn't sound pretty at all. I probably made an ugly face too. My co-worker that went with me chuckled, the lady who was weighing me offered to change it to reflect a gain if I wanted, but I declined. I was happy.

Its silly how little I know about what I'm eating when I don't follow the rules. I just guess and do my best but am always anxiety ridden when I go to step on. If I would just follow the plan I'd be golden.

And now, because I lost a certain amount, I lost another food point. This means I have less room to cheat and fall off the wagon...no wiggle room if I find myself passed out against the wall covered in turkey and gravy next week.

Therefore I must workout. I need to get my butt out of bed so I can run and earn myself more food. Run to eat. Maybe I should get a carrot to hang in front of my face. Funny, huh?

But I feel good about the loss, and I know I feel better when I run so I just need to do it. Running makes me feel like Rainbow Bright on crack. Obnoxiously happy.

And, you know what? I am finally within 5-9 lbs of weighing less than or equal to my JimmyEatWorld. I say less than or equal to because I'm not sure how much Jim weighs anymore. He better not have lost weight because I'm telling you, when I weigh less than Jim I am throwing a serious party. It'll be the I Weigh Less than Jim party! It may be the first time in our history that I weigh less than him, except for maybe when I first met him, but he was skinnier then than now, so maybe not.

Now, before I go I have something less fluffy on my mind. How many of us hate our bodies? And how many of us have daughters? And how many of us degrade our bodies in front of our daughters? I don't, because I don't have daughters, but I also don't do it in front of my sons. I don't want them to think its ok.

I just heard on NPR today that 53% of 4th grade girls say they hate their bodies. With all the messages around them saying they don't look good enough, their mothers shouldn't add to that, even if they are only degrading their own body. Mothers are their role model, they set the stage.

While I was stranded in Ft. Wayne I had quite a bit of time to read the book The Uglies by Scott Westerfield. Its about an America of the future where you have massive plastic surgery to make you "Pretty" and perfect. People eat what ever they want and don't think about being fat because they know when they turn 16 they'll be pretty. Afterwards there are pills to purge the calories they eat.

When the girls in the book find an old fashion magazine from our time (300 years prior, I think-they call our period "the Rusties") they see a very skinny girl who looks almost like a "Pretty" but too skinny. They determine that she must have the disease they learned about in school where people don't eat because they thought they were fat. They were horrified at the picture and proof of this disease because they couldn't imagine that such a thing ever existed. They thought their teacher made it up to make the Rusties seem more crazy and sad.

But how wonderful would it be if we could be horrified at the thought of eating disorders existing. Nice huh?

Now don't get me wrong. The land of the Pretties is not all great, it has its sinister side too. Like what happens when one girl decides she doesn't want to turn pretty. You'll have to read to find out what happens when she goes against the grain.

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