I have polycystic ovarian syndrome. If you're like me the worst thing about PCOS isn't the grapefruit sized cysts, or the periods you've been getting every 9 days since you were 11…it's the fact that you get fat eating broccoli on a treadmill and your BFF orders her Burrito Ultimo "enchilada style" while wearing skinny jeans…It's the fact that skinny jeans will just be an unflattering tapered-ankle thing of the past by the time you get even halfway to your goal.
Maybe you're not like me and the aforementioned as well as the unmentioned (infertility) is worse than being fat…this may not be the blog for you. I plan on irreverently, humorously and sarcastically sharing my weight loss journey as I run full speed (hopefully reaching my target heart rate) at the wall that is PCOS…But, before you go, take note: I did use the words "sharing" and "journey"…I can't be that bad.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Maybe not the worst thing that ever happened.
The ocean may be changing my mind. The ocean doesn't care that my bikini bottoms are actually jeans rolled up to my calf. The ocean must really fancy me...otherwise she wouldn't try to look so beautiful every time I pay her a visit. I love her too.
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