This morning my alarm went off at 4:45, as it does Monday through Saturday, and I dragged myself out of bed to exercise. I really, really, REALLY didn't want to do my workout this morning... so I got dressed and did it anyway.

After completing the Max Interval Circuit, tired and sweaty and a little sore, I went to get myself a cup of coffee before going upstairs to shower off the sweet smell of how far I've come and the awful stink of how far I have left to go. As I was making my bed before getting in the shower (something the obsesive compulsive nature in me demands I do every morning) I was thinking about how much I didn't want to be making the bed - I wanted to be sleeping in it. I thought about how wonderful it would be if I didn't get up at a quarter to 5:00 every morning; how grand it would be to stay nestled under the covers with my buckwheat pillow and my monkey pillow pet, every morning, until absolute child related necessity forced me out of bed. It occured to me that the only reason I don't do this is because I don't want to be fat anymore. And in order to not be fat I have to exercise, and in order to get a workout completed effectively I have to do it first thing in the morning, before the kids get up. Because once Maron and Marida are up it's all about them.

This train of thought led me to the realization that all my of not-getting-up-at-the-ass-crack-of-dawn dreams would come true if only I didn't mind being fat. If I was happy being fat everything would be GREAT! I wouldn't have to get up at dawn; I wouldn't have to exercise my body to its very limits every day; I wouldn't have to watch what I ate and count every calorie so that I could log it in my food journal; I could bake all the chocolate chip cookies, banana bread and brownies I wanted, secure in the fact that if I gorged myself on them (which I would be sure to do) it wouldn't matter, because I was happy being fat! The FGIMH (fat girl in my head) started jumping up and down saying, "See! See! It could be great! Just give up this exercising nonsense and we'll live like fat, happy queens!"

I'm not listening to the FGIMH though, and here's why:

This is a dress that I bought 6 years ago. It was a size too small at the time, but I decided to go ahead and get it because at that point I had just started gaining weight and was sure that a tiny bit of effort would take it all off again in a jiffy, and this dress was going to be my reward for getting back to where I was. Fast forward 6 years... I did not get back to wear I was, I just kept getting fatter. I had a couple of kids and in the end I was fatter than I had ever been, with a brand new dress hanging in my closet that I have never even worn. But here's the kicker: Two nights ago I tried on this dress for the fist time in I don't know how long AND IT FIT!!! It's not perfect - a bit snug up top still (however if I keep the sweater on you can't tell), but it goes on and zips up and looks fabulous!

I am SO excited that I can FINALLY wear this dress! I am actually going to wear it on the 28th to my friend's marriage celebration. And I'm going to look sensational. And this, THIS is why I will tell the FGIMH the shut her pie hole. THIS is why I will continue to get up every morning and wish I was dead as I jump up and down in a puddle of my own blood, sweat and tears. THIS is why I will keep going forward. - because I am SO FRIGGIN CLOSE to my goal and I KNOW I can do it!