Weight Loss Wagers with Favorite

In "what's-going-on-around-my-house" news, Favorite and I are competing against each other in a weight loss wager.  We are both fairly competitive people, and I thought that might give me the push I need to make a concentrated effort to focus on cardio every day.  Don't get me wrong:  I hate being fat.  But I hate the idea of losing a competition more than I hate my size *yeahlikeI'mevergoingtopostthat* jeans.

And that was my first mistake. 

You see, competitive or not, you shouldn't ever wager with your husband...or any man for that matter.  Especially when it comes to weight loss competitions.  Because boys?  Will visit the little boys' room and lose 15 lbs.  Women add a spray of perfume and gain seven.

So what did I do when I learned that Favorite dropped 8 lbs in four days?  (Yep.  Eight.  It would take me three months to lose eight pounds.  Plus, you should see what he's eaten in those four days.)  I stopped competing.  I'm still going to have to pay up, but for two or three days, I just thought it didn't matter. And I acted like it.

That was my second mistake.

After 31 years on this planet, I finally starting to get that it's never going to be about "eating right" or exercising a certain number of minutes a week.  Not for me.  Instead, it's about doing something.  About living.  About enjoying.  And it's not about dread or resignation.

See, I don't really enjoy food.  For the last seven or eight years, it's become the solace that isn't really comforting.  I felt I deserved to eat a doughnut because I wasn't as thin-pretty-capable-fill-in-your-own-issue-here.  I should be allowed to avoid the gym, because things didn't come easy to me.  I shouldn't have to count calories, because I wasn't able to get pregnant.  All of it boiled down to a sense of entitlement that said, "If I'm deprived here, then I shouldn't have to complete x."  But I wouldn't call anything of that particularly fulfilling.  Replacement never is.

But then I read about these people who love to eat and cook and still manage to lose weight.  And I think, "I'm doing something wrong here."  Truthfully, I should've said, "I'm thinking something wrong here."  Perhaps that's the bottom line issue for a lot of people.  I want...  I deserve...  I should have...

None of those thoughts make us better people.  I've perfected that thinking process, and it sure hasn't made me a thinner human being.  (I'm not more magnanimous, either, in case you were wondering.)  But a resolution to enjoy, to do, to be a part of...  I wonder how that would change me...

Favorite and I weigh at the end of the week, and we'll fulfill our wagers at that time.  Then, we'll start over.  For my do-over, I'm resolving to enjoy my break and live.  It's probably going to require me to get off my rear end and do something.  (That might be the definition of living.)  But there are people to enjoy, and events to attend and things to do.  The funny thing is, for the first time in a long time, I'm looking forward to it.