For the last few weeks, I have been waging a war against myself that seems almost hopeless. I have battled with objects that I hold closest to my heart. I have set a goal for myself that, at this point, seems unattainable.
I am on a diet. Well, sort of.
I guess it really doesn’t count as a full-blown diet if I’m sipping a Dr. Pepper as I type this, now, does it?
I have known that I’m not exactly the skinniest kitten on the block. In fact, I’m pretty pudgy, but I wouldn’t say that I’m obese, although the National Center for Health Statistics probably would. According to those bigwigs, 64 percent of United States citizens 20 years of age or older are either overweight or obese.
Being a little fatty has never really bothered me before. Well, about a month or so ago that started to change.
With my January wedding less than three months away, my maid of honor and I decided it was time to stop procrastinating and finally buy her dress.
We made the trek to David’s Bridal and purchased the cute little dress that she had her eye on. Originally I had planned to have my wedding gown made by some quaint little shop down the street from my apartment but I threw that idea out when my best friend pranced around in some really gorgeous dresses. Of course I couldn’t resist the temptation to try a few on myself.
Well, a few hours and $400 later, I had my wedding dress.
The second I slipped the dress over my shoulders, I knew that it was exactly the one I wanted to galavant down the aisle in. The problem though, was that there was only one left in the state and although it was relatively close to my size, it wasn’t the perfect fit.
“Don’t worry,” said the woman helping me. “We can have it altered.”
I was convinced I wanted the dress. I handed my credit card over and let out a sigh of relief. I had one last wedding detail to stress over. But instead of going through the hassles of alterations and their ridiculous service fees, I figured it would be easier to drop a few pounds. I declined the alterations, grabbed my dress and skipped to my car. The diet thing seemed perfect. I’d save some money, feel healthier and look better. It would be easy, I thought. Psh. Yeah right.
I should have realized that my diet was going to coincide with my twenty-first birthday and that I’d probably be going to a few celebration dinners. I should have realized that both Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays would happen as I was trying to slim down. I should have remembered that my grandma makes the most awesome pumpkin pie in the universe. I should have also realized that I am the worst person ever when it comes to self-control.
Maybe I should have just gone with the alterations.
But that seems like the lazy thing to do. Sure, it would have been easier but would I have felt or looked any better? Nope.
I’m not throwing in the towel just yet. Sure, I only have just a little over a month to reach my goal, but it’s not entirely impossible.
While I do love the occasional two-liter of delicious Dr. Pepper, it shouldn’t be that hard to opt for water instead. Instead of a yummy, cheesy, In-N-Out burger, I could have a turkey sandwich.
I have a goal to reach here. I am getting married in no time at all and I have a really amazing guy that I want to look my best for. You think that would be the ultimate motivation, but I’m realizing that it really isn’t, especially when eating out is so much more fun that staying home and doing tae-bo, or when a second serving of mashed potatoes and gravy is much tastier than a rice cracker.
Valerie Rojas, a senior journalism major, is editor in chief of the Campus Times. She can be reached by e-mail at firstname.lastname@example.org.