All you have to do is do it.

So since my surgery, I haven't yet hit the gym. I know I have to...but if you know me, you know that I would rather walk over hot coals barefoot, while sticking a fork in my eye, while letting a clown rip my fingernails out than go to the gym.
Literally. (Do you see this face? Would I kid about clowns? I think not.)

I asked for super fancy Reebok balance ball shoes for Christmas to give me a little motivation. And again today, I said to myself, "Ok kid. Monday is it. YOU, my friend, are hitting the gym Monday after work, end of story."
I mean really, is walking for 30 min on a treadmill going to kill me? Probably. And when the paramedics come to take my lifeless body off the treadmill, at least I'll be covered in sweat when they do it. So there's that glamour vision as well.

Then, my BFF Sue (I was hesitant to watch because I assumed it was something completely inappropriate like clowns, talking lobster babies or something worse), sent me THIS LINK .
WATCH IT. I'M SERIOUS. DON'T MAKE ME COME OVER THERE.

I'm pretty sure I will go to the gym Monday, and if I try to talk myself out of it, I'm going to watch this video over and over and over.

And the cycle continues

So, my normal cycle before weight loss surgery went a little something like this:
Step 1) Get motivated and determined
Step 2) Watch what I'm eating for 2 weeks and exercise
Step 3) Not see the scale move
Step 4) Say "Fuck it" this isn't working I give up.

We have arrived at Step 3) (and for my New Kids friends it is NOT "It's just you and me")
I was losing 2 lbs a day since surgery. Super pleased with that. Even if it had been just 1lb/day I would have been fine with that. But for the past two days the scale has been stuck at 266.4.

I get up every morning and I walk over to that scale and I look at it and I say, "Look here, you sorry excuse for a piece of metal. I'm gonna step on you. You're going to give me a smaller number than what you did yesterday, or Mrs. Scale is sleeping with the fishes."
It appears I underestimated Mr. Scale. He is not afraid of me OR my idle threats. The past two days he has given me the same number. While I'm plotting how to torture the love of his life until he gives me what I want, there are all sorts of thoughts running through my head.

Did I go through this just to lose 10 lbs?
What if I don't start losing again?
All of the people I told I was doing this are going to think I failed.
I'm going to know I failed.
What if I'm the only person on the face of this planet this doesn't work for?

And that, my friends, is where I am sitting right now. Anyone hungry for a big plate of discouragement with a side salad of worry? I've got plenty to go around.