Once upon a time I was what my mother called a skinny-minny. I hit adolescence and grew what I thought were huge thighs. In reality, I was an enviable combination of skinny and curvy. I wasn't overly concerned about my body, but I didn't love it.
I think it's probably fairly typical of women to look back on their younger selves and wonder how they had thought so poorly of their looks. (Clothing and hairstyle choice aside. Green hair looked awful on me. My shaved head days were cool though.) However, I have apparently gained so much weight that people look back on my younger self and don't even RECOGNIZE me. A good friend of mine (we've been friends for about three years) was in my husband's office the other day and asked whose picture was on his shelf. Um, that would be me, the person you are so close to that I was present for the birth of your child three weeks ago.
I gained a lot of weight fairly rapidly after I got married - whereas I had nothing but diet coke and p-funks in my fridge, A_ is a former college linebacker who doesn't understand why you wouldn't add a stick (maybe two!) of butter to whatever you are eating. I also moved to a city where people drive everywhere. Once I get home it's hard to convince myself to go back out. I don't like to walk in my neighborhood without a large dog, so exercising would mean driving to the Y.
So between eating a lot and exercising not at all, I have gone from a size 4/6 to a size 16.
I need to lose weight before I really start the whole IVF process and hey, since right now we just barely have the $5000 for A_'s MESA, I should do something productive while we save up.
So while I am not working out today since we had a winter storm that has left our bushes kissing the ground and my driving skills combined with ice=death, I need to stop thinking and start doing. Because I don't want my kids to someday look at pictures of me and ask who that girl is.