Tomorrow.

I’d like to say I’ve had good intentions the past few days, but I really have not. I thought about working out, but didn’t…and ridiculous amounts of fast food kept appearing in my meals on a pretty much on a daily basis.

“Tomorrow,” I’d tell myself. “Tomorrow is when I’ll start doing things right.”

Except tomorrow arrives and becomes today, and I eat crap and don’t exercise and tell myself the same that I did yesterday. And the day before that.

And the week. And the month.

So.

Here are my goals for the next 7 days.

At least 30 mins of exercise per day.

No gluten.

No alcohol.

Consume 100oz of water per day

Ideally, I’d like to work out twice a day (morning and night), but I’d rather not die right off the bat so I’ll take it slow.

The first three goals are not going to be easy for me, so you can most likely expect to see some bitching happening here. However, if I stick to them, I’m buying myself a present!

(Not sure what yet, but I’ll let you know. Probably a big bottle of vodka!! Kidding.)

Okay, here goes nothing…

♪ Alcohol ♪

That catchy Brad Paisley tune is stuck in my head right now as I contemplate writing this post.

I’m medicine and I am poison 
I can help you up or make you fall
You had some of the best times 
You’ll never remember with me
Alcohol
Alcohol

Alcohol has definitely been both a medication and a poison for me over the last year. Hell, it’s been both of those for me just tonight. I’m not proud of it, and I know it has to change. Because, seriously. Tequila doesn’t taste nearly as good in orange juice as vodka does, and if you’re suffering through the former just for a fix…

(Yes, that is me right now.)

Okay, okay. SERIOUSLY. Even though they do their duty for feeling better in the moment, these recreational drinks do nothing to help me on my journey to weight loss and better health in the long term. So…

As of today –January 15th– I am finishing out the month with no more alcohol. This is fueled by a conversation that I had with my therapist today…that, basically, if I can just make two or three healthy choices for the next few weeks, then that will be a good start to a healthier me AND to weight loss. So, my two changes are:

1. No more alcohol in January 2014…and as far beyond that as possible…but at least through January.
2. Each meal plate will be 50% vegetable and/or fruits.
3. At least one 20 minute workout/day. Two workouts is preferable.

I can do this. I NEED to do this.

The Story of L

I was always the skinny girl. That girl in high school and college with the great body:  slender but not too thin, curves in all the right places, and great boobs.

I can say that about myself now because I never had any idea I was that girl until I wasn’t her any longer…and I am most definitely not her now.

I got married, had a baby. Eventually lost the baby weight and became her again. Then there were anti-depressants that made me balloon, and it took me three years, but I did lose the weight and kept it off, also for years…until taking the same anti-depressants AGAIN.

Last time, I gained 30 pounds. This time, I gained 60 pounds over the course of 8-10 months, and now weigh ten pounds more than I did the day I went into labor. It’s frustrating and depressing, and honestly? Scary. It should not send my heart pounding and leave me breathless just to walk upstairs, especially at my tender age of 30ish.

Over the past several months, I’ve “started” dieting many times. The most recent attempt was only just over two weeks ago, and I’d lost 3 pounds in as many days before it all went to hell. The good news is that I switched meds, and even though my lifestyle hasn’t changed, I stopped gaining.

I love good food. Expensive cheeses, cheap potato chips. Vodka. Bacon cheeseburgers, fried seafood. Breakfast. I said I love good food. What I meant was, I love to eat.

Which might have been okay, if I was a little more healthy about it. I wasn’t, though, and it eventually caught up with me. (Doesn’t it always?) I can blame the anti-depressants all I want –and I do, lol– but at the end of the day, if my eating habits had been better, would I be here right now? Most likely not.

I started out 2014 by making sure each of my meal plates were half vegetables and/or fruits. I actually really love fresh fruits and veggies, so this isn’t a problem for me as long as I have them handy. That worked out well until I got lazy, which was about the time that my most recent “diet” went to hell.

Again.

I realized today that I’m tired.

I’m tired of being the broken record of weight loss. I’m tired of my “fat jeans” being almost too tight. I’m tired of being out of breath and out of shape. I’m tired of knowing that I am considered obese by medical standards. I’m tired of my best friend (we’ll call her S) being all for the fat-acceptance movement and totally making me feel that wanting to lose weight is all vanity. I’m tired of sleeping in strange positions to support a body I’m not used to having. I’m tired of my husband telling me I was snoring. I’m tired of regular household chores making me sweat like a stuck pig.

I’m so fucking tired of being overweight.

I am ready for a change. I am ready to return to the old me, and when I find her again, to truly appreciate her. She was exquisite, and I am so sorry I didn’t see that back then. I see it now.

Let’s do this.