OK, so I'm loath to admit this but over the winter, I sat on my ass and found those extra pound that I worked so hard on losing last year.
In an attempt to fit back into some of my cool summer clothes, I'm trying to shed a few ... again.
The problem? I'm flippin' hungry.
In the last couple weeks, I've been riding my bike as much as possible and swimming.
Yep, you heard me right. I'm over my "I'm-not-getting-the-top-of-my-swim-suit-wet-so-I-don't-have-to-walk-home-with-wet-boob-marks" phobia and I've begun swimming at our local pool.
Every year, we get summer passes to the pool and walk over a couple times a week to let Mar swim and play in the water.
In years past, I've walked around the little-kid's pool and even gotten the bottom of my suit wet a couple times, but I refused to get all the way in. I never wanted to deal with all the wetness that is involved in getting all wet.
This year, with Mar's ever lengthening frame, she has moved out of the little-kid pool and into the big pool.
And we're all better for it. Margaret horses around and plays with her friends while Bill and I coax each other along as we swim lap after lap, stopping to toss the water Frisbee with Mar and show her how to do handstands under water.
The result? I'm starving all the time.
This morning I ate a nutritious and yummy bowl of oatmeal and had a yogurt granola bar. Normally this would keep me full until lunch.
Today I was shaking from hunger. At lunch with Bill and Mar, I scarfed down my soup and taco and was thrilled that Mar couldn't finish her cheese quesadilla and finished that off for her with great enthusiasm.
I remember that while I had a membership to the gym that I was hungry all the time too.
Why? Why can't I just be the same amount of hungry and active, too? Why do I always feel desperate for the next meal?
Stupid body — it's like it wants to be fat or something.
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