The Shrinkage Diaries: This Means War

Dear Figure,
     I woke up this morning feeling very fine indeed, and with all the best intentions in the world of continuing on my happy road to health. After all, the when the sky is filled with fluffy, tangerine-colored clouds, who's to complain? Certainly not me. I got up and I did my arm exercises, courtesy of the Marines.

Yes. Laugh. Do.

They are called "Sungods" and "Chainbreakers" and, having never clapped eyes on a Marine whose arm muscles I didn't admire, I figured it couldn't hurt to try it out myself. I've done every day for nearly a week, and I am not too sore. I can't decide if this is good or bad. Does it mean I've got more muscles up there than anyone could guess from the look of it, or does it mean that I'm just not Marine-material? I suppose time will tell. A week is certainly not time enough to form Hawkeye-esque biceps and triceps.

I went down to breakfast, thinking that I would make something yummy. But there was a scheme afoot: the pantry is trying to hide you, dear Figure, from me! We need to do the grocery shopping and the only thing (pretty nearly) to be eaten were bagels. Lots of bagels. And I love bagels. But you would be proud of my dedication, Figure, and my ingenuity because do you know what I did instead? I invented a new breakfast packed with protein and potassium that I liked enough to toss into my repertoire for Shrinkage Breakfasts! I sliced a banana down the center, slathered it with All-natural peanut butter, and bedecked it with exactly six Ghirardelli 60% dark chocolate chips. This is yummy. This is nutritious. This fits the bill exactly, so I was happy. And to all the rest of you Vegans and Raw-foodists, this could easily be adapted to your diet!

I thought I'd snap a picture of the shadow of a figure I happen to possess right now, so as to document it's shrinking state till you, dear Figure, come to be. I thought it'd be nice to post a photo once a month of your progress in becoming a Proper Figure. I don't anticipate any Willow-Wandishness from you, but a nice Lumpless curve would not go amiss.

I was further tempted in my day of Shrinkage by a seductive, quad-layer chocolate cake that the whole rest of the family was partaking of. This is a very good chocolate cake (I know from experience) and if you knew just how good, you would certainly applaud me for my tenacity in resisting. I've been looking upon lots of lovely Figure-aiding things to cook on Pinterest, and I can't wait to write about them in the future. For now, I'm girding up my strength to resist further battle: I am off to a 21st birthday party where there will undoubtedly be more cake and ice-cream, and possibly lots of other fattening things. I will try to find the things I ought to eat, but if for some horrid reason there was none of it, then Moderation! (And Zumba and Just Dance 4 afterward, which is already scheduled and therefore very convenient to the Shrinking Me.)

Between teaching English Lit and cleaning the house for church, I did our work-out video (more on that in a later entry), and was careful to position myself directly in front of the TV so my head was balanced on Teresa Tapp's body. This enviable position is usually taken by Mama or Anna, but I got it today. Do you know what happens if you don't get this spot? You're stuck staring at yourself while exercising in the double glass doors. One side deludes you by making you look tall and slender, and the other is a horrifying picture of yourself if you failed Shrinkage and went quite in the opposite direction. With those two options before oneself, who would choose the chocolate cake?

I will have you, Figure, whether by hook or by crook, so don't gloat.

It's so unbecoming.

Yours,
      The Shrinking Me