This mission promises to be the biggest, most challenging one yet! Have I tried to pear-down the chub before, yes! Has it always worked? NEVER! The chub remains the bane of my existence and the reason I cry fortnightly, bemoaning the fact that my cute husband could never love a chub like me....but alas! The mission has arrived. This mission will finish smaller than any mission before because this one is going to WORK and STICK!!!
Ok, step back. I have known I was...ahem, built big since I was about 4 years old. Not especially fat as a child, I still hated the fact that I was fleshy-er than my comrades. This turned into a downright obsession by the time I was 12 years old, and since then, I have been exercising, dieting, reading everything I could about calories, carbs, protien, muscle, hormones, good food, bad food, burning calories, consuming less calories, consuming the right calories, etc. etc. etc. ad nausium. I have even read how all this reading makes me fatter, and how dieting always backfires, so I should just make a more moderate approach for success.
So, at that point, I said, "ok, no more focusing on what I eat, I will just eat what I want." That turned pear-shaped (no pun intended) very quickly so then I decided to keep track of what I ate (as if I hadn't tried that before) again, this time online for convenience sake. The problem is, once you have consumed cookies and white bread for breakfast, you pretty much know your day is shot, so then you don't keep track. Two years and too many pounds to admit later, here I am.
In my defense, I must say that the jump from pleasantly plump to whatever I am now (please don't make me name it...even clinically it is terrifying) came directly after starting law school, getting married, moving, having my laptop stolen, more school, etc. It kind of just happened. Like winter gives way to spring, I ever-so-subtly gave way to my muffin top until suddenly my "fat pants" were too small! arrrrggg!
Also, the good news is that I do like to be active. Well, not all the time. I don't care who you are, Gillian Michaels, you don't ALWAYS feel up for busting it in they gym or pounding the pavement, even with the promise of the euphoric post-workout adrenaline rush. But working hard physically is generally an area that I'm ok with. I can sit and watch Biggest Loser and be like, "hell yeah, I would suffer through this work out!" I systematically cry with every contestant's confession of how sick they are of being chubby; the sad irony is that I cry right into my pint of Ben & Jerry's.
Ah, Ben and Jerry. The twins I affectionately hold in my stomach, despite the fact that I am very un-pregnant. How you elude me in my quest for happiness as you dualy promise great creamy and chunky chewy goodness whilst chaining me to the ever-expanding waistline!
But I digress. Without further ado, the MISSION:
1. Upon my turning 30 (woo, woo!) no more sugar, candy, dessert, cake, cookies, ice cream (sigh), pie, pudding, snack bars, sugar drinks, soda, popcorn, chocolate, etc. for a WHOLE YEAR!
2. As soon as possible, embark on a hard-core, super focused Boot Camp type program where I work my guts out to jump start my mission. Said Boot Camp will last at least 6 weeks.
3. Upon completion of the six week Boot Campy style program, continue working out 6 days a week for at least an hour or more per session. This continues basically for the rest of my life.
4. Addendum as deemed proper and inaccordance with the principles of the overall mission.
I'm going to my first boot-camp class on Friday, and if I live to tell the tale, I will set the date for that program to start. Now, as for the sugar, I'm gonna go cold turkey.
And to all you nay-sayers out there, I say you watch. Just watch me do it, and you'll eat your dirty words of doubt! HAHA! *enter maniacal laughter.
Peace,
Warr
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