Sixteen pounds

Brace yourselves…this blog is about to get real.

Like, really real.

Basically, you can imagine me tossing all of my pride out the window.

Or, you can just look at this photo.

My weight

Oh, I’ll SHOW you what I weigh…after I Photoshop the dry skin off my feet, of course.

I weighed 127 pounds in Seattle.

Which means the tater tot hot dish has had its way with me, and I’ve gained sixteen pounds.

Sixteen pounds. In two months.

(The sad part is, I haven’t even had a bite of tater tot hot dish. Culver’s frozen custard? That’s another story…)

Okay…before everyone gets all angry, hear me out.

I realize that at 5’5, 143 pounds is not fat or overweight. It is healthy.

But just try explaining that to my quickly expanding butt cheeks, who are expected to prance around Puerto Vallarta in a bikini in exactly nineteen days.

Is it even possible to lose sixteen pounds in nineteen days?

I didn’t think so.

So how did this happen?


My name is Katrina, and I like to eat my feelings.

No, it’s not cute. But it’s the truth.

Also? In my messed up world of food issues, “stressed out” and “hungry for sugar and refined carbohydrates” are synonymous.

And you know what will stress you out?

Moving halfway across the country when your husband starts a new job will stress you out.

Having a $1,000 computer monitor (that doesn’t even belong to you) break during this move will stress you out.

Dealing with a minor car accident the week after you move will stress you out.

Dreaming of finally moving into a house and then settling for an apartment because you don’t want to live in a crazy lady’s basement will stress you out.

Having deranged pot head neighbors will stress you out.

Getting locked out of your new place and missing a work meeting will stress you out.

Somehow having to complete your taxes despite the fact that all your W-2s were lost during your cross-country relocation will stress you out.

Not being able to purchase a bookcase, which I realize is completely trivial, will stress you out.

Attempting to assemble the furniture you did get to buy at IKEA will stress you out.

Spilling hot candle wax all over your new carpet will stress you out.

And not having any friends in your new town? That will definitely stress you out.

It will also be how cereal and ice cream become your “substitute” friends.

No, it’s not cute. But it’s the truth.

Honestly? I’m kind of amazed I didn’t gain more than sixteen pounds.

This is probably due to the fact that despite my recent love affair with high-calorie granola, I’ve been working out everyday.

Because, I actually enjoy it.

I’m proud of that.

I’m also proud that I posted this. Sure, my friends will read it. My coworkers will read it. The friends I’m trying to impress by looking good in a bikini on this Mexico trip will probably read it.

And I’m okay with that.

Seven years ago, when I struggled with a terrible eating disorder, I would not have been okay with that.

So this is progress. Progress filled with trans-fat and preservatives, but progress nonetheless.

The fact that I’ve rapidly gained weight because of stress and a poor diet doesn’t make me less of a person. (Technically, it makes me more of a person.) What it does make me is human.

You know, like, normal.

And you know what this normal girl is going to do?

She’s going to spend the next nineteen days eating sensibly and continuing her daily exercise regime.

She’s going to go to Mexico, have a wonderful time, and wear her bikini with pride.

She will gain all of the weight she loses in the next nineteen days back through a combination of guacamole, tequila and various other bad decisions.

But she’s on vacation, so it’s okay.

She’s then going to return home and get back to business.

Which means running her half-marathon in June.

And then travelling to Southern California for a week of intense Turbo Kick at Camp Do More.

And eventually, she will post a second scale photo that will bring her pride for an entirely different reason. Because the number on the scale will be her goal.

She will also stop referring to herself in the third person and writing overly dramatic blog posts about her inner fat-kid.

Seriously, though…I’ll back to my usual snarky self tomorrow. (I’m getting half a dozen vaccines for a trip to South America, which should prove for a much more light-hearted post. Hopefully.)

In the mean time, I’d like to apologize to anyone that knows me who read this, and is now picturing my cellulite.

No, it’s not cute. But it’s the truth.

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Psst! Have you entered the Chanel Nail Polish Giveaway yet? Hurry — you only have ONE DAY LEFT! And yes, that is Chanel Nail Polish in the incriminating scale photo above…how sweet of you to notice!

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