Finding A New Motivation
It’s nearly 10 p.m. and I’m just now
getting around to this blog. I had to
have a panic attack and moment of sheer HOLY SHIT WHAT THE FUCK AM I DOING.
I’ve been talking about getting fit
for ever. Having lost my friend Laura recently, its just been this thing that’s
on my mind more and more. During her battle with cancer, Laura got crazy about her
fitness. Now, I’m not going to tell you that she did this 180 and became a guru, but she was at times
fanatic about being in the gym, working out, being as healthy as she could be.
She still had her ups and downs, but she was in it to win. Even at the end when we all knew there was
just no possible way she was going to get into a gym in this realm again, she
was focused on getting her physical therapy and then getting back to working
out. There was no waivering about it. She was going to rehab and “I’m going to
loose this fucking weight, Drea. I’m gonna bring sexy back….again.”
Like most of y’all, this isn’t my first
weight loss Rodeo and as its an ongoing process, its not the last. I’ve done it all from wraps to drinks, to
pills and starvation. With the exception
of going under the knife and illegal drugs, if its out there as a way to loose weight,
I’ve tried it.
And I’ve dropped them all just as fast
as I started them. Well, almost all of them.
Shortly B.C.B. (Before Cannon the
Barbarian) I contacted a fitness coach and model that I knew on facebook and
had him customize me a menu and a plan. Zac was and is a sweet heart. He talked
me through everything and was sweet and encouraging. I weighed in 5lbs heavier than
I am now. I did a pretty good job. I learned to make smarter food choices, I
meal prepped like a five start chef. I wasn’t hungry in fact I was moody
because I honestly got tired of eating. 8 meals a day was just insurmountable. AND ALL THAT DAMN SALAD. DO YOU REALLY KNOW
HOW BIG 3.5 oz of salad is? Do you. DO.
YOU.
I doubt you really do. AND IF YOU DO
KNOW then your jaw immediately clinched the moment you read those words and you
salivated and thought “alllllllllllll the cheeewwwwwinnnnggg. Mussssttttt sssssttttooooppppp
chewing”
I didn’t do too heavy a work out…walking
on the treadmill that I named “that fucking treadmill”. I spent more time trying not to fall off of
it than I want to admit. And if you guys
remember …I fell off it … a lot.
Anyway, nearly 3 years A.C.B ( keep
up, After Cannon the Barbarian), I’m back to being 325 (I am supposed to say
324.8 and give my self little victories *rolling my eyes*) and I need to re
group and go again. I’ve been talking
about getting MORE help than I had before since Cannon was 6 months old. I knew
that this time the journey was going to be harder. But I have a new motivation. I’m an older mom.
Automatically my time with my little barbarian is shorter than if I’d had him
in my early to mid-twenties. I don’t want to shorten that time further by being
unhealthy.
I want and need to be able to keep up
with him. You all know very well that
this boy hits the ground running every day. There is no low gear, even when he is sick he
is just barely letting off the throttle.
In a few short months he is going to be three years old. Ready to start
pee wee athletics and just … everything you know. I need to be there for it
all.
So there is that. The whys are just like
they’ve always been. I want to be heathier. I want to be lighter and wear fun
clothes. I want to move easier, breath
easier, and all of that. I just want to
be happier in my skin.
Biting Off More Than I Can Chew
This time, even though its been something
on my mind for more than three years, getting fit was a spur of the moment
decision. One of those time where the gym was offering an amazing fish hook
deal to get you looped in for a year membership. I knew it was a gimmick, but if not now when.
They were offering the kind of motivation I’ve been telling anyone who’d listen
I needed. Small personalized classes. One
on one attention. I can do this. I CAN DO THIS.
And then I looked at their customized (generic
for everyone) meal plans and recipes. AND THEN they had the nerve to suggest
that my big southern foodie ass try a 1200 calorie diet and I literally laughed
in their faces. If I hadn’t already signed the contract I’d have walked out
with the double Stone Cold Steve Austins in the air.
The regular menu was going to be a pain
in the ass, but it was doable. That paleo/keto…no…just no…so many different no’s.
GRANDIOUS AND OBNOXIOUS NOS.
SO I started searching for someone who
could do the meal prep for me. I can
meal prep with the best of them, but I’d rather do laundry and we all know I
HATE LAUNDRY. Through my searching I stumbled across Chef Eboni and sometimes when spirit speak you leap.
And thank GOD I DID.
Because I’ve been ok until around 7 pm
when I realized that I hadn’t eaten my third detox meal and I’m supposed to NOT
eat after 7pm. SUDDENLY I WAS RAVINOUS. I
haven’t felt hungry all day. In fact, the only thing I’ve complained about is
that I don’t like the kombucha … at all.
I stared at all the food in the
kitchen and there wasn’t anything in there that I was sure I could eat. I mean
truthfully, there were some options, but I’m supposed to be detoxing for three days.
I literally had a panic attack. I
started sweating. I mean I managed to deliver 5 roasted chickens and not have a
break down, but now…NOOOWWW I was super starving. I had already tried
distracting myself. I had taken nap, drank some water all the things you’re supposed
to do to get past the anxiety. SO I text Chef E and she was supper patient. She
let me rant and scream about being hungry. Then she talked me down. Gave me options to help
me customize this detox to help get through this week.
Tomorrow
morning is my first day in the gym. So I’ll post all my stats and all that crap
after I drag myself home and cry about
how awful it was