Yesterday I flew from Austin to Los Angeles and had one of the most humiliating things happen to me- I couldn't get the seatbelt to buckle. I just flew two days earlier and didn't have that problem! And I did yoga in my hotel room while I was there. I ordered fish instead of some crappy meal on the menu for dinner Tuesday pm. What could have possibly happened in two days that the f'n seatbelt wouldn't fit? (This is the thanks I get for changing my comfortable aisle seat for a family traveling with two children who were placed all in the middle seats?)
I sat, panicked, as the flight attendants walked up and down the aisle before takeoff asking if our seatbelts were buckled. I prayed that they didn't find out I wasn't wearing my seatbelt. Praying that they didn't see that half of it was draped around my waist and tucked inbetween my legs. Praying that they didn't bring me an extension for my seatbelt. I would have died. Surely. I put my bag over my lap and part of a newspaper too so they wouldn't get suspicious. How sad that this is what it's come to though. I wasn't found out and when I had more time to play with it, the seatbelt did actually fit, although barely.
At this point I sit and wonder, what will it take for me to finally do something about my weight? Cause as soon as I got off the plane, I went to Norm's with Steve and ordered a short stack of pancakes and a bacon, egg & cheese sandwich with french fries. Luckily Steve & I got into a fight just before dinner so I didn't really have an appetite (oh yeah, plus I ate a beef brisket sandwich at the airport in Austin before taking off, so I didn't really need a second dinner) and didn't eat much. But you would have thought that after an airplane seatbelt almost not fitting around my waist would have done the trick.
I think about this often...what has to happen for me to finally make the changes necessary for me to lose weight? My father passed away from esophageal cancer, largely due to the way he chose to live his life. You'd think that would make me get serious about this. My mom was diagnosed with breast cancer and the way I'm eating and treating my body sure doesn't do much for ensuring I don't get the disease either.
The answer is I don't know what it takes, which is why I'm in this situation.
Today I go and see my therapist. I haven't seen her for three months and this is our first session since she's returned. It should be interesting. I cried (for the first time) during my nutritionist appointment a week and a half ago because I felt so tired of sort of trying and not getting anywhere and so sad to realize yet again that I'm not taking care of myself and neither is anyone else. The session will be good for me.
Today I plan on going for my first marathon "training run" and will take it very slowly so I don't get shin splints. I'm feeling down in general- not getting along with Steve, not treating myself well, I'm tired, cranky and sick of traveling. But I need something positive to focus on and know that as soon as I start taking care of myself my mood will improve.
Wish me luck!
PS- Thanks to CB for switching seats with me. You're a great friend. You probably have no idea what I was going through for almost that entire flight, but switching seats with me was the greatest relief you could have provided me during that hell in the middle seat.
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