39 and counting

So I celebrated my 39th birthday yesterday.  I thought it would be fun to weigh myself.  I was wrong. Nothing deflates the balloons on your big b-day like a weigh in.  Feeling fat is one thing.  Lots of not so fat people feel fat.  But feeling fat in a “I haven’t weighed this much since a fetus was growing inside of me” kind of way is a whole different ball game.

To make the day even more fun and exciting, I spent the morning down at the MVA to renew my driver’s license and declared under the penalty of perjury mind you, that my weight from 5 years ago was in fact accurate and truthful. Considering that it was a lie 5 years ago and nothing bad happened to me, I figured I could risk it and lie again. Since the weight listed is actually my goal weight I don’t feel greedy and I’m confident that by the time I’m 40 I will not be living a lie anymore.

Needless to say when my kids offered to bake me a cake, I passed.  When they
offered to take me shopping to look for some new clothes, I passed on that too. I did however find the time to get my ass on my treadmill and only had a few sips of wine instead of my standard 2 glasses.

Was it the best birthday ever? No. Was it a well needed reality check? You bet. Did it motivate me to stop messing around? Definitely. Am I freaked out? Naw, just clear about what I need to do to get my health back to where it was about 5 years ago when I was eating well and taking better care of myself.