Do you think I need some red meat?
Saturday night I had a dream, in which I arrived home from work, starving as usual. I went to the fridge looking for the half hamburger I’d put there for safekeeping. I love cold burgers. If I go to a takeaway in Oz or an overpriced gourmet burger joint in Britain, I like to take half my burger home in a doggy bag, just so I can eat it the next day. A night in the fridge gives the bun and the salad and the meat time to mingle so deliciously…
But alas! My dream burger was not in the fridge!
I stormed into the living room where my father and his Third Wife sat. "Alright you two, what have you done with my burger?"
"What burger?" said my father. Third Wife said nothing as she doesn’t speak English.
"The burger I had in the fridge! For me to eat when I got home from work! That I had been looking forward to ALL DAY LONG!"
"Oh that burger. I threw it in the bin, I didn’t think you’d want it."
"WELL I DID."
I woke up angry, and craving burgers.
Sunday night I dreamed I was in Goulburn visiting the Mothership and she went downtown to get us takeaway for dinner. She came back with a fat parcel of chips under her arm.
"Sooo, where are you hiding my hamburger?"
"I didn’t know you wanted one!"
"You asked me what I wanted, and I said I wanted a burger. I said please!"
"Are you sure?"
"Yes I’m sure!"
"Oh. Well I have some steamed fish in the kitchen."
Again I woke up mad as hell and craving meat.
Two burger dreams is coincidence, but if I have a third then it’s a definite pattern! I see a visit to Wannaburger in my near future.
. . .
I hope I didn’t offend any Maintainers with my last post! I do realise that the journey doesn’t end at goal, that maintenance is extremely difficult, and most of all that I won’t be cast out of the fatblogosphere when I reach my goal weight. I just had a funny image in my head of being physically removed – my slightly lighter body being hoisted out of town by chanting crowds with flaming torches. Ceremonially banished!
I neglected to mention the biggest reason for my not racing to the so-called finish line – Because I am happy. I look in the mirror and I like what I see. There’s no loathing anymore, just quiet pride and acceptance. I feel strong, fit and healthy.
Maybe because I used to be so flamingly huge my expectations are lower. Maybe if someone else occupied my body they’d feel far from satisified. But I like what I see now and sometimes it’s hard to muster any urgency to lose another 6.9 kilos just because the charts say I need to. Some might call that complacency or laziness, and you might take one look at me and say, "But you’re still a pork!". Yet I believe losing these remaining kilos (and possibly dropping another size) is a purely cosmetic thing.
To be happy to just be myself, after sooo many wasted years of gloom, feels like I’ve already won the prize.
But dudes! Never fear. I will still finish the task on paper. Just so I can say I did it. Just so for once in my life, I can finish something I started.
I am motivated. I am pumping myself up for action as we speak, Lleyton Hewitt style. C’MONNNNNNN!
. . .
All that said, I’ve been more focused on improving my fitness and muscles than making the numbers go down. I just completed my most BLOODY BRILLIANT week of exercise all year. I had made a lofty NY resolution to do 3 x cardio, 3 x strength plus abs and flexibility each week, but this is the first week I’ve actually done it all properly, without shortcuts. There was even extra cardio. I feel all stretched out, sporty and smug.
Wednesday is Rest Day, so tonight I’ll sit on my arse and watch The Hairy Bikers. Woohoo!
. . .
Wednesday is also Weigh Day – I maintained this week, which follows my paltry 0.5lb loss the week before. This Dress Rehearsal for Maintenance is getting tiresome! 😛