Tonks: 1, Ice cream sandwich: 0

Ha!

I think I have mentioned before that I'd very much like to lose some weight. Between the hoopla of moving, the holidays and miscarriage I've added some extra padding in the last six-months. Ten to 15-pounds of padding. Not a lot, except I'm only 5'3" and normally weigh under 120-lbs.

I've been working out every Tuesday and Thursday for the last two months, walking occasionally and even tried yoga, but haven't been being very mindful of the crap I'm putting in my mouth. I'm a sucker for candy, cookies and all sorts of goodies that only contribute to the chubs.

I'm tired of being fluffy and ready to get back to normal. I'm throwing down the gauntlet. I've got two-months or so before swimsuit season and, dammit, I'm not going to the pool looking the way I do right now*.

This evening I got into the freezer for some ice and saw and Klondike Bar sitting there, calling to me, practically begging to be eaten. I'm a sucker for ice cream, too.

BUT, I practiced self-control and restraint and didn't eat the Klondike Bar! I stared at it as if daring it to jump out of its wrapper and into my mouth before I forced myself to read the label. For reasons I don't understand, finding out that something has trans fat causes the food to lose all appeal. Klondike Bars, by some miracle, contain trans fat.

It feels good, like I've done something stupendous. Instead of throwing away the hour-long ass kicking I had this evening I, just maybe, benefited from it. Woo-hoo!


*Here's the deal: I'm a perfectly healthy weight (as far as I can tell- I don't weigh myself) but I'm not comfortable in my own skin right now. Plus, my height and bone structure mean I don't carry excess weight well at all.