Wheat thicks.

I see you, box of Wheat Thins. I know what you want. You want me to grab a handful of you, crunch away then lick the salt from my lips. Your stupid yellow box is calling my name. 100% WHOLE GRAIN you say. 100% irresistible you say. Well crackers, I’m going to resist you. Ok, I may have had a couple crackers earlier in the day but, NO MORE! I shan’t be tempted.

Before you start to think my life is so dull I resort to picking fights with crackers, let me explain.

My body and I have a serious love-hate relationship. I’ve never cared too much about it to not eat or work out incessantly, but I get down about these love handles like any other human with a mirror. I have never been naturally slim but I was healthy after high school. I played sports in grade school but was too cool once freshman year started. I had moved school districts, I liked punk rock, I was too pale to be seen in volleyball shorts. All dumb excuses. I have vague memories of my mama in a local volleyball league and watching her games before life took her away from it. I wished she would have kept with it. The issue at the root of it, is that I don’t have too much self-discipline. It wasn’t until I hit 25, when all the beer and Penn Station subs turned my cute, youthful figure into this…cindy-chris-farleyIt’s wasn’t as bad as Cindy stealing Adam Sandler’s French fries but, it’s how I felt. It was time to get it together.

I started to make some changes. I joined Planet Fitness (not the best gym in the world, but cheap and open 24/7 in case I needed a late night workout). I transformed my diet. The restaurant I worked for fed us every shift around 4pm and it was almost always leftover pasta, overcooked green beans, and week old crème brûlée. Free food is free food, so I had for 5 years indulged in all the sweets and cheesy sauces that were put in front of me. Once I started to care, I started to pack my lunch every shift. No dairy (yes, I mean cheese), no sugar, no carbs. Lean meat, fruits, and vegetables ruled my life, and I was loving every second of it.

I worked out, an hour and a half a day, 4 days a week. 45 minutes of cardio, 30 minutes of weight training, 15 minutes of stretching. It feels so exhilarating. I lost 18 lbs in 3 months. I looked great. I felt great. And I still got to enjoy beers with my friends (Come on, I’m not crazy.)

Then, on a 4th of July trip to see my girl Amanda in Nashville, Henry proposed. And as soon as that happened, I said “fuck it”. All of our family members wanted to take us out to eat. Suddenly, I wanted to celebrate and of course, I thought there was no way I was going back to being a butterball. Duh, Molly. When you eat like a crazy person and watch Netflix all day…

The only thing that was keeping me afloat was waiting tables. Being on my feet all day kept my metabolism at a reasonable rate. I’m gonna tell you ladies waiting tables RIGHT NOW. If you don’t work out, and you stop waiting tables, your waistline will betray you.

After about a year of splurging on engagement dinners, Henry’s little sister Elizabeth graduated from high school. A few days after the ceremony, I saw some pictures of myself. And goddammit, I couldn’t believe it. Pudge-city. Time to start again.

(I will mention that this entire time, H, being my number one fan, doesn’t really know what to say in times of pudgy-ness. At this point in his life, he’s eating whatever he wants and not taking care of his mind or body. He says “go back to the gym” not to be cruel, but because he knows how great I feel overall when I go. However, he’s not concerned with himself and that is frustrating. And part of why I let myself go once again. It was not his fault, its solely mine. But I’ll admit, because I’m a person who’s alive, that living with someone definitely affects what you do and eat.)

For the second time, I began my fitness journey. I lost the weight again. I was feeling groovy. Then, after about 4 or 5 months, all hell broke loose. Thanksgiving, people. Pumpkin pie, gravy, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole. It’s all comfort, cold weather food, and I love it all. Since then, things haven’t been the same. Winter was hard. My relationship was hard. I was hating myself and my habits weren’t conducive to healthy living. I ran away and spent all my money. Mostly on fancy dinners and drinks. It was all delicious. And here I sit, with only fond memories of foie gras and chocolate mousse and the inability to see my toes. Sigh.

Its been 9 months since I’ve signed in at Planet Fitness. 9 months since I’ve watched what I was eating. 9 months since I’ve felt really good about my looks. I’m pregnant with self-hate.

Well, friends, I need to get back on the horse.

Once a week, I am going to record on here my progress. Guilt is a great motivator and I’m using this forum to get healthy again. I need to. I’m not getting any younger. I want to feel good when I get married. I want to feel good when anyone gets married.

Week One : Gym after work, diet change, visualize yourself in Iggy Azalea’s body, don’t get discouraged.

I’ve been work, work, work, work, working on mah shiiiiiiit.



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