I’m fat, yos. No sense in sugarcoating it, is there. And we’re doing something about it.
I’m 5’4″ tall, and I weigh 249 pounds. That’s fat. And it’s depressing. I don’t want sex because of the jiggle. “Slap a thigh, ride the wave in” kind of jiggle.
Later on, I’ll be posting pictures here of me as I am now. Not nude pictures, mind you, but pictures nonetheless. My goal, right now, is to not drink any sugared sodas until February 5th. That’s five weeks. After that, who knows what my goal is. Maybe to walk 20 minutes a day for five weeks.
I’m going to have Mr Realist take measurements: neck, chest, upper arms, waist, hips, thighs.
And I’ll post them here for you to see and comment…and don’t be mean. I know I’m a big girl. I’m a size 12 trapped in a size 20/22, and I have no one to blame but myself.
Well, that…and the numerous pizzas, chips, and sodas I had after getting baked in my college days.
We’re taking care of this. Starting now.