Now That's What I Call a Trick

I've been dieting for the last few months, trying to lose all the excess weight which has been slowly packing on for the last 4.5 years. I used to weigh 118 and was a size 5 (back when I was that rarest of creatures, a woman who loved her body) and then suddenly skyrocketed up to 138 and a size 8 (in a kind brand...10 in some brands made for 20something girls with no hips). From there, I constantly lost and gained another 5 pounds, up and down. I quit sugar, kickboxed 4 times a week, walked, ran, rode around the world on a stationary bike, climbed hills...none of it mattered. I got up to 148. I was appalled. Even my fat jeans were too tight. Something had to give. I finally resolved to kick the junk food habit. And I did. And after one particularly strenuous day walking, walking, walking at Universal Theme Park, I lost 5 or 10 pounds (I don't have a scale at home, so I don't know how much, but my jeans were loose!). I started walking in my neighborhood, which means a neverending uphill circle. I continued eating homecooked meals and kept most of the Universal weight off. And then 10 days ago, I fell off the wagon.

No, that is too kind.

I somersaulted off of the wagon, did a full Nelson double half-back with a twist, and landed right in front of the horses, who, along with the wagon, the steamer trunks, and the 4 or 5 teams behind them, proceeded to rumble right over my ass.

So I am back where I started.

But the jump?

Truly looked spectacular.

Jenie