That would be me, when I look in the mirror some days and SWEAR I look as bad as I did at 260, though it isn't humanly possible that I am packing that much jiggly fat somewhere when I am 60 pounds lighter.

Before trying to lose weight, I never understood the concept of 'fat days', I honestly have no recollection of ever staring myself down in the mirror and scrutinizing my body, noticing bloat or jiggle. For better or worse, I didn't analyze my body or looks in that particular way until after 2008, when I began changing things and the state of my body became of central importance in my choices and routine.

I was 193.0 today, now that the ovulation-induced water retention has subsided and I am in the back end of my cycle. I am the lightest I have been since high school, that I have verified on a scale. I fit into 16's with my 38I breasts and child-spread hips, and the slight muffin top of loose skin is subsiding even more. I remember when I couldn't get those old jeans up over my thighs, when they looked almost impossibly tiny next to my size 22's (that, let's face it, should have been 24's if I wasn't in denial). I remember 14-16 being holy grail sizes when I just wanted to be comfortable moving again, and not be the fattest person in any room I walked in.

So why, oh why, have those pants started look massive? Why do my XL shirts (the knit ones are on the loose side, when I buy more I definitely need a size down) seem huge and ungainly, coming from a woman who was solidly in 3x at one point? I could scarcely tell you. Most days I think I look phenomenal. I feel wonderful, sexy, full of vitality. But every one in awhile I notice the sagging skin or jiggly leftover fat that used to be firm. My logical brain tells me that it is jiggly because it is on it's way off my body and loose, not pulled taut by fat packed around my organs anymore. That the loose skin is as much from babies at weight loss, and well hidden by clothes. That there is even a huge difference between 193 and 213, and I remember feeling lovely at that size.

Fat days, it seems, have become a regretful part of my vocabulary.

The only cure for them, I have found, is perspective. Lifting a Costco sack of flour and realizing I have lost the weight equivalent of three of those, or picking up both girls at once and understanding I used to sound every waking moment with that weight. Looking at old pictures or trying on old clothes is also a huge eye opener, and a blessing to me when I don't let myself get discouraged about it ;)

Knowing also, that part of the reason I have good and bad days is that I am small enough now that bloat makes a DIFFERENCE in my clothing fit! The sizes and styles at the higher end of my weight were so generous I didn't notice five extra pounds either way, in the ease of the garment. Comforting myself that a little critical eye applied to my figure can be motivating and focusing in working toward my mini goals, but being conscious of never veering into self loathing or unrealistic perspectives on my own figure (body dysmorphia).

Do you ever have 'fat days'? How do you handle them?