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The Power of Numbers

Sometime this morning my Sitemeter counter counted 25,000 visits! That's 5,000 return visits per each of my five readers! Helped only slightly by the perverts who find this site accidentally by typing in lude things having to do with "big girls." Thanks for stopping by!

In other news, I appear to have accidentally lost 3 pounds! Holy crap. If you find them, I don't want them back. Pass them on to someone who needs them, like your local celebutante. I haven't weighed myself in about 2 weeks but I also haven't been working harder at the gym (no clients yet, and I still have my office prisoner day job full time until October when I go half time and become poor.) or watching what I eat, except as it was consumed by my gaping maw. In fact, if you'd asked me before I stepped on the scale, I would have told you I probably gained.

You know what's funny though, or more truthfully, sad and pathetic? I realized that as soon as I saw the number 131.7 (Joy! Rapture!) instead of 135, I looked at myself differently. I looked up into the mirror smiling and happy, checking myself out from side to side, thinking, "Yup, I look good." If that number had been 138 and I looked exactly the same, you and I both know I would have been berating myself as a slacker and a fat pig. My mood would have been exactly the opposite simply because of the number. And I probably wouldn't have been able to talk myself out of the funk by saying, "But look at all the things your body can do! You taught an aerobics class for Pete's sake! And you're a personal trainer! WTF woman. Snap out of it."
I'll have to work on that. At least, as a trainer, I can understand where people are coming from. I've got over-weight person empathy to spare. If only we looked at ourselves like this instead. Or even better, saw ourselves the way we are and liked it.

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