On July 5th, I had my weight loss surgery and now, some seven weeks later, I am down forty pounds. Forty pounds. That is the weight of a small child. And, damn it, I feel good. Yesterday morning, I went running with my dogs and as my feet pounded the pavement to the sounds of Amy Winehouse, I felt almost weightless.
Not that everything has been easy. I cannot eat much at any one sitting. It is hard to eat enough and I struggle to get the required calories in. On Saturday, we barbequed in Hesperia and when I sat down to dinner, I had two forkfuls of salad and was done.
My husband has definitely noticed the difference and squeezed my butt on Sunday. It felt delicious. Like when we were dating.
And, I don't mean to be graphic but the sex has been awesome. Niagra Falls kinda awesome.
So despite my intial regret at having the surgery, I am glad I did it. I am happy I took the plunge to get to a better me. When I sit down to think about it, I don't think I would have ever lost the weight naturally. I would have hemmed and hawed and maybe lost twenty pounds and then put back on thirty. A year later, I would have been at three hundred pounds having to do the surgery with more risk factors.
Obviously, my story does not end here. I still have a long way to go. My short term goal is to be down fifty pounds by my fortieth birthday on October 7th. My long term goal is to have lost one hundred pounds by the end of February.
And then, watch out world, this skinny bitch will be lighting the world on fire.