I fell on the wagon. That's right, I am one floor punch from being straightedge, and I have the 'roid rage to prove it. Before you clear the date for my next birthday party, let me explain.
In the few months leading up to my Reno trip and my birthday I had a whole lot of nothing going on - the weather was shitty, people were hibernating, and there wasn't a whole lot to do that was fun besides eat and drink. Lucky for me (or not, as may be explained), I live with one of the best cooks I know, and have an ID that says I can drink at any of the bars I can slowly, fully tummy walk to in less time than it takes for my heart rate to reach that of a three-toed sloth's. People, I will admit it right here, I got a little....fat. I know, I know what you are all going to say "you look fine", "you've gained your nesting weight" (thanks Mom), "you're a riot grrl - you don't conform to the bullshit societal pressures that the patriarch puts on woman and their bodies" (thanks brain). Unfortunately, these things are irrelevant. I am not at all where I want to be with my weight, and I have decided to change that as quickly and permanently as possible.
First things first, skinny ass gross girls can continue to "suck my left one" (thanks Kathleen Hanna). I am in no way, shape, or form attempting to look like a prepubescent boy or heroine addict. Fuck all that. What I am trying to do is be as healthy and happy as I can be with myself. I want to be able to bang out the 50 miles at Hub On Wheels this year, I want to be able to do downward dog for a full commercial break, I want to avoid the diabetes and heart problems that have plagued my dear, plump grandparents. And, gosh darn it, I want to look fly as fuck walking down that aisle next September, and I want to be ready to carry a little O'Shea shortly thereafter, without losing said fly shape 9 months later.
So, I am busting my ass to make it happen. I have an awesome personal trainer who kicks my ass once a week in routines that she makes sure I can do without her. I hit the gym as much as possible, especially after work when I need to de-stress oh so badly. I am using the Lose It! app on my iPhone and keeping track of everything that I put in my mouth, and am trying to put more fruits and veggies and whole grains in said mouth. And, for the sake of losing the 1st ten pounds so that Lauren (my trainer) and I can go celebrate with oysters and margaritas the East Coast Grille....I have stopped consuming alcohol! No wine, no beer, no vodka tonics, nothing! I am dry as a bone, and despite the weird hyperness and pseudo aggression....I am feeling pretty good about it. I am also down 3 lbs from last weekend, and did not wake up with a hangover despite being at the Sil with Matty and Craig until 1am last night.
So, there it is folks, the unthinkable has happened. It's a pretty good test of will power for me, and it's relieving to know that I can still go out and have fun with my ice water in hand, since I read on a bathroom wall that pregnancy and PBR don't mix. In a couple of years, my fly body will be making a little O'Shea, and I'll be dammed if I am staying home eating cupcakes for the whole 9 months. Until then, I am going to keep pushing myself to be healthier and stronger and in the best shape I can be in. So far, it has been great, despite the large amounts of Advil being consumed in my home (Matty is also getting his gym on quite frequently). Most noticeably right out of the gates, is that getting so much exercise has been awesome for my mood and has lowered my anxiety while also helping me sleep like a baby at night. Even though I'm not in my skinny jeans, that's a pretty good start.
To be continued!



Anonymous said…
Thank you for being someone who understands that a decision to -get into shape- is not a validation of Kate Moss.

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