Another November. I turn 33 this year. 33 used to sound ancient, but now it feels just ok. I don't feel old at all, and people close to me have tried to convince me that I don't look older than my age, I don't know if I'm convinced.
I remember my 22nd birthday, 11 years ago. I treated myself to a pizza in my dorm room, after weighing myself and telling myself I was going to lose weight and be fit and trim by my 23rd birthday. Those I think were the most confused years of my life. I worked out, come rain, shine or snow, if you may. But I also ate probably more than I ever have in my whole life. I'm telling you, living in the US is the worst thing that has ever happened to me 'weight-wise'. What I can't figure out is why I kept both contradicting behaviours? Weird even to me.
This morning I looked at a note book I kept 2 years ago. I weighed close to 10 pounds less than I do today. Very odd since for the past two years I've been trying to lose weight. I guess I'm your typical yo-yo. I lose some and I gain some and guess which is more??
Anyway. October was my worst month since I re-embarked on this journey a few months ago. I gained weight overall. But that's fine, because I can not undo it. It's what I do from now on that matters. So I have to sit with myself and set things straight. Plan. And do.
I'll be 33 in 16 days.
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