You Have To Be THIS Skinny To Ride This Ride

Well! It's been a few weeks. A LONG few weeks. Between cakes (baking, not eating!), Dr appts, family visits, and two crazy kids, blogging was put on the back burner. But I'm still here. Still kickin' ass.

As of right now, I haven't dropped any more pounds, although I haven't gained either! I'm down quite a few more inches, and I feel amazing. Finally getting healthy was by far the best decision I ever made.

This past week I went away to visit family - I had an amazing time! I also hit up Canada's Wonderland, with no kids! (Huge thank you to my Nan, Aunts, and Uncle, for watching the kids) I haven't been to Wonderland in YEARS. Probably 5-6 years to be exact. I was very excited about the two new roller coasters - Bohemoth & Leviathan. Little did I know, they would disappoint me.

Now, I'm the type of person that puts on a brave face, but when it comes down to that moment where bravery is needed, I cower in the corner in the fedal position. Some of these rides are ridiculous - seriously, who invents these?! Getting strapped into a swing that slowly rises up a pole and spins you around and around. I felt like I was higher than the CN tower. I wouldn't actually know how high I was, since my eyes were practically glued shut. Horrible. One of those "Why the hell am I doing this!?" moments.

When it came time for the rollercoasters, however, I felt sick. Nauseous. Shaking. Sweat dripping down my face. No bravery here. Little did I know while waiting in the line, that I had nothing to worry about.

I didn't fit in the seat.

That's right, folks. I was TOO FAT for a ride a Canada's Wonderland.

Here's what happened:

I wait in line. In agony. Not sure why I decided to ride a ride that has an almost 90degree angle drop. Finally, it's our turn. I go to the seat, noticing right away that it's not very big. Sit in. Uncomfortable. My ass clearly doesn't have enough room. I'm squished. The lap restraint doesn't lock. The worker comes over and HEAVES (I mean pushes with ALL her friggen might) on the restraint ... 5-6 times, it finally gives a tiny "click". Uh, no. I do not feel safe whatsoever, especially after her little "Uh, ya. I think it locked. Ok good, you're ready to go." NO NO NO sweetheart, I'm not. Another worker comes along, looks at it, sighs, and says "I don't think this is gonna work out..." No worries, peeps. I really didn't wanna go on it anyway. So I take the good 'ole walk-of-shame, past a ton of people who just witnessed this, to stand at the exit and wait for my family to get off the ride. Embarassing? Yes. But also funny. I actually laughed - not sure why, but I did. Here I am thinking I'm doing this amazing job with eating healthy, working out ... and Canada's Wonderland comes along with a big ass needle, and pops that bubble! But instead of it making me depressed, or have me lose faith in myself, it amplified everything. (Side note: both rollercoasters had the same seats, so I didn't even bother waiting in line again!)

I CAN do this. I WILL do this. And when I do, I'll go back to Wonderland, stand in line, fit in that seat, and ride that damned ride!

All too often, moments like these happen. It IS depressing. It's embarassing. But it's also strengthening. I love who I am. I love how far I've come. And there's no way in hell I will ever be too big to ride a ride again.

Happy Hump Day!
Go be FABULOUS.

-xo-