Men Are From Mars

So, my hubby is loosing weight. He started P90X in mid January. He stuck with it for about 6 weeks. He hasn't really exercised in probably a month. He watches what he eats. Most of the the time. He coaches a high school baseball team, so he swings the bat 300 times a day and jogs over to first base whenever they're up to bat in a game, and he refs church basketball games on Saturday afternoon, but there's no real cardio going on. He just not eating as much as he use to, and he's still dropping weight every week. He's down 32 lbs. in 11 weeks.

It's disgusting. It doesn't seem like he's even trying!

I mean it's good. I'm proud of him for doing it. He looks great, which is good for me and for him. I'm sure his heart is healthier, and eventually, after a few surgeries, his knees (ankle, shoulder...) might not hurt so much. I can tell he's excited about new clothes and looking better.

The problem is, I'm having a really hard time being happy for him. It comes down to jealousy I suppose. I worked so hard for so long to loose the weight I did. It took me 6 months of running six days a week, watching what I ate every day, and eventually counting calories to loose that same amount. I remember celebrating 32 lbs. lost at my brother's wedding. Now here I am having gained back every bit of my 43 lb. total and then some.

Every pound he looses somehow makes me feel more the failure. I guess I feel left behind. The better he looks, the more disgusting I feel. The more excuses I find. The more hopeless it seems. Especially since I have the possibility of another baby looming over me. What's the point if I just have to get fat and pregnant anyway. I'm twenty pounds heavier than I ever was at the beginning of a pregnancy. I don't hit this weight until I'm about 6 months in. Of course I can't tell him any of this because I; 1) don't want him to say "I told you so," and 2) I don't want him to feel bad for his success, and 3) I don't want him to stop. Like I said, he's looking good.

*Sigh* I've gone so far backwards. I feel like since I've failed what's the point? Why go through all the effort since I'll probably just end up fat, and probably fatter than before? You'd think all this dribble would be motivating. It really just encourages me to make cookies.