Alright, where are my peeps who have a minor panic attack when dinner is served at an invite-only event? “WILL THERE BE ENOUGH FOOD?…WHAT IF I AM LEFT…STARVING? PARCHED? HURRY, RUN TO THE BUFFET LINE BEFORE THE PASTA IS GONE.” Seriously, I’m not joking. I love food, and I only discriminate against seafood. I can give myself a pep talk all day long about how I’m going to eat healthy, only eat a serving of each item, eat no dessert. But once I see the food, smell the aroma of cheese and bbq chicken, my second personality comes out. “EAT THAT FOOD. YOU DESERVE IT. THAT BOWL OF MAC AND CHEESE IS ONLY 30 CALORIES. HURRY BEFORE IT’S GONE…HURRY!” I run faster to the food than when my child is going full-speed into oncoming traffic with his bike.
When I was younger (I’m 30 now..quite elderly), I could eat whatever I wanted and was usually the skinniest person around. I totally took it for granted. Didn’t even really think about it. I worked out here and there, but didn’t really NEED to. And I ate whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. 10 years and two kids later, I looked in the mirror (and stood on a little square box with a rather large number on it) and realized I was…chubby. But when you are in that place of your life, you don’t really notice too much or care. Some people are “overweight” and are completely content and happy with their body image, which is amazing. Rock on. I wasn’t consciously unhappy with my appearance, but subconsciously it was nagging at me. I noticed when I went shopping for clothes, my number one detail I was searching for was what items would hide my stomach and make my arms/shoulders look skinnier. But as time went on, I never found those items. I was always left feeling a little uncomfortable in whatever I was wearing.
So this past Thanksgiving and Christmas, after I ate more food than Costco and Kroger sells combined, I was SICK of food. I was bored with chocolate, I was tired of pasta and cheese. My body was craving healthy food. So I jumped on the opportunity and started a diet New Year’s Day. Now there are lots of details that I am skipping over (including my flippin’ awesome neighbor, Krista, who pushed me to continue and my friend, Katie, who got me addicted to Weight Watchers), but I eventually lost about 18 pounds. This number changes quite drastically on a daily basis depending on how many cheeseburgers I consume in a week. It still happens…a lot. And I’m cool with it. But I started fitting back into my old clothes and started feeling not just content, but GOOD about myself. It was so refreshing. SO refreshing, in fact, that I started running with another awesome neighbor, Corrine.
So here I am, beginning of August. 18 pounds down, working out and running. In fact, I’m going to try to run a half marathon in October because why the hell not? (Why the hell not, you ask? Well, your knees are about to fall off and running is about as miserable as being stuck in Guantanamo Bay). But that’s precisely why I want to try it. If it were easy, then I wouldn’t feel proud of myself in the end. And when I’m dealing with two kids ALL day who diminish my worth down to filling sippy cups with milk and wiping assholes, I need something to make me feel…super cool and trendy.
One day, maybe I’ll share some of the more personal details about my journey from chubby to not-so-chubby-but-still-eating-cheeseburgers. (Shit got ugggggly). But I’ll say this, it’s not easy to lose weight, or to start a new workout routine. ESPECIALLY if you are working. And I still text my friends above on a daily basis about how difficult living a healthy lifestyle really is. But it’s so worth it to have the energy and confidence back that I didn’t even know I was missing before. If you have advice, a personal story, a cry-fest you want to share, comment below or message me! The one thing I know is that support is crucial and boy am I lucky to have it.