Early one morning I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror then at the slacks on the hanger I was about to put on. I wondered if my pants were going to fit over my curves. Then, I pleaded with those pants, "Please, please fit over my hips!"
There comes a time when enough is enough. I looked at the calendar and my contest is 23 weeks away. It is time to start dieting. Almost. And while I know I will regret saying this later...I can't wait to start.
It's just that I've become uncomfortable in my skin. I feel like I am taking up too much space. Nothing fits. I am not a medium...and I'm not to the left of that, but way over to the right. I'm a large.
People look at me and say, "But you look small?" Well, tell that to my 8/10 top that is generously cut because it doesn't fit me. I'm big, for being little. The difficult part is, that has been my goal.
Getting bigger was the plan, it was the goal. And I did it. I have made gains. Muscular gains. Balancing being happy about that and feeling like I'm going to hulk out of my suit jacket is tricky. I know that when I diet off this extra layer I'm going to be pleased with the progress I made during the off season.
But enough is enough and I'm ready to head in the other direction. Shortly I'll step (backwards) on the scale to get a starting weight and we'll be off and running for another 20 some weeks of contest preparation.
It won't be long before I'm pleading with those same pants not to fall off in the parking lot as I'm walking into work. "Please, please don't pop this bobby pin!"
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