I am returning to my confessional post.
I got on the scales this morning at a new high of 158 lb and I knew I needed help. I know that it helps to confide here.
What got me here? Sad to say it is pathetic but true--I used stuffing myself as a coping mechanism during four stressful months at work. Ridiculous to deal with a difficult time by creating another problem, but somehow I thought that rewarding and comforting myself with food was "helpful." Go figure.
Add to this the fact that I have been baking pies on an ongoing basis as a fundraiser and you get the picture. Pie is never far away--and pastry--flaky, tender pastry--is a weakness.
Anyway, friends, I feel like I've zipped myself into a fat suit. I am wearing flowing tops to cover my expanding middle and hips and my face is looking paunchy. I don't like it.
I will be 61 in a very few days, but I don't like helping along the ageing process.
So I plan to check in regularly and share the journey back to sanity and fitness.