So I bought about $120 worth of groceries for myself the other day.  All good stuff.  I promise.  I think the "worst" thing I got was applesauce.  But I love applesauce.  And I can't completely deny myself.  
Well, anyway.  I made a giant pot of Turkey Spaghetti, (whole wheat spaghetti and meat sauce made with ground turkey.  extra lean of course) and it was DA BOMB.  And I'm doing the whole breakfast like a king, lunch like a prince, dinner like a pauper thing.  Go me!  It seems to be working in getting my appetite under some kind of control.  I will hope very much that this lasts for several hot minutes.

Last night's Zumba class was insane.  it seems like everyone decided that they needed to go.  Not one more person could have fit in that room and I'm sure we were violating some sort of fire hazard.  I'm not exaggerating (and if you can't tell by now, I do that a lot) when I say that there were about 50 people in that room.  CRAZINESS.  That workout was so legit that my ears were sweating.  What the hell is that about?  My ears don't sweat,  What is this black magic??

My gym friend says she's quite impressed by my ability to pick up on choreography so quickly.  That is something I can say I'm good at least.  See?  I'm not completely down on myself.  But I haven't lost any weight yet.  If in another week I haven't lost anything, I'm going to have to do some serious over haul here.
But for now, I'm food's psycho ex-girlfriend.  If I tell him I'm pregnant, do you think he'll take me back?

Oh no no.  Let me tell you about THE INSANE workout I had last night.  So my friend and I went to the Y in South Tampa (for those that don't know, that's where all the rich people are. I am by no means one of those people).  The facility, and the surrounding area, is very nice.  For those that know the Y system, certain instructors move from location to location on certain days.  So, if you like that class, and you wanna go on Friday, you have to go to where they are.  Get it?  So yeah.  We went there.  

I've taken this class before.  I know the drill.  I can handle it.  Huh.  Yeah.  So I thought.  He announces at the beginning that the first half hour will be Body Combat (what we went there for) and the second half hour was something else.  No idea.  But home-girl and I decided to stay since we had planned to stay for an hour, seeing as the class had always been an hour long before.  (by the way, that first half hour was more intense that usual)

WHY???  WHY FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS DEEP FRIED AND SMOTHERED IN CHOCOLATE DID WE STAY FOR THAT INSANITY????  Turns out it some sort Pilates thing that incorporated resistance bands and weights. Pilates? WHAT???  Have I told you how I feel about Pilates??  Pilates is the devil.  It is God's punishment to this world for being so damn vain.  I can't move like that!  I can't hold my legs out like that?  What the hell is wrong with you people?  It was half an hour of craziness and torture!  And I MOTHER FLIPPING FINISHED IT!  Damn right I finished that biznatch. My friend was super excited.  She was like, "We're GONNA come back to this one.  OMG, our bodies are gonna be so ready for the summer.  Do you have any idea how good we're gonna look?  And for when we graduate???  We'll be able to stand for HOURS and not feel it."  And for all those reasons.... I'm gonna endure that torture every week.  

I am so sore right now, it hurts to laugh.  And on top of that, I've got a cold.  My knee is swollen, and my back feels like stiffened bubble wrap.  And I'm going back.  I'm gonna hate every minute of it too.

Hopefully, I'll feel well enough after work to buy some groceries. Ugh.

I'm food's psycho ex-girlfriend.  And tonight...hold on, wait a minute...just who THE HELL is that walking with MY MAN???

All right.  I did it.  I joined a gym.  

My body hurts just thinking about it.  Ugh.  Exercise.  I hate working out.  But, I can't eat myself thin... so a-working out I will go.  

Specifically, I joined the Y.  A classmate of mine was already a member and convinced me to join which is great.  One, I'll feel bad if I flake on her so I HAVE to go or I'll be consumed with guilt.  Two, she's not gonna let me slack.  She's not super fit or anything, but she was one of those dramatic transformations and so she knows what it feels like to feel what I feel like (does that make sense?).  I already had my first workout yesterday and I. Am. So. Stiff!  Hot damn, I hate this so flipping much.  Tomorrow I'll be super sore.  But homegirl has deemed tomorrow workout day and so I must go. 

I was good on the food front for the most part.  Breakfast was bad.  I had a bacon and egg sandwich on an onion bagel and a salted caramel hot chocolate.  So damn delicious.  So damn bad.  For lunch, I had Taco Bus.  Which sounds bad, but isn't.  I had a taco, and for those that had have actual tacos (not from Taco Bell) you know that it's essentially a salad on a tortilla.  And I only had one.  So there.  Dinner was like half a small bowl of couscous.  I'M STARVING.  

This is some kind of torture I've imposed on myself and it's the worst thing ever.  

Screw this crap.  I'm gonna go get a Snickers bar.

I'm food's psycho ex-girlfriend.  And tonight, I'm gonna sneak into his room and watch him sleep.

Not the best start anyone's ever had but certainly not the worst.  Yesterday, I agreed to go to all you can eat sushi (which in my mind isn't a bad choice seeing as I had mostly all veggie sushi). But, you know what happens when you see that ex you're still pining over?  Yeah.  That happened.  I lost my mind for a bit and got some stuff I had no business getting.  Twice.  Because I have no will power.  Good job, self.  That'll certainly guarantee you the spot of big bridesmaid.  *sigh*  Sometimes I'm not sure of my own commitment to my own cause.  Today, though I did awesome!!!  I had Crispers (which is a soup and salad type place) for lunch and a Quinoa salad for dinner.  YAY ME!!!  

Now, I know what you're thinking.... "You know you can't just lose weight and be healthy by not eating crap, right?  I know, I know.  I have to work out and exercise and be active and all that stuff I just hate.   My sister tells me I have ti make it a habit and that with time I will learn toi love it.  Do I really believe that?  No, not really.  I do not enjoy pain.  at all.  In fact, my life philosophy is that I will try anything once as long as it doesn't: 1- taste bad, 2-involve something illegal, and 3- hurt me.  Working out HURTS.  I do not like to hurt.  Nope.  Don't want it.  Wrong number.  You get it, right?  HOWEVER, I have to suck it up.  I'm not gonna be fully happy with myself if I don't work out to.  My body is not in the best shape, and I'm not talking aesthetically (which is true too, but not the point I'm making here).  I hurt all the time for no reason and I have arthritis in my left knee.  Too young for all that.

Some time this week, I'm going to acquire some sort of gym membership and supplement that with doing stuff at home.  I won't be a happy camper for a few weeks.  I know that for sure. I have a few people that I can count on as "gym buddies".  I feel sorry for them already though.  They'll be the ones having to deal with my super, overly whiny self.  And Lover Man will get a bunch of it too.  (I  foresee many rub downs before bed in my near future.) I'll let you know how that all goes.  But for know, I'm food's psycho ex-girlfriend.  And tonight, I'm thinking of going out with his best friend to make him jealous.

So last little bit of back story, I promise, and then we'll get into the actual "motivation" plan.
Now... I believe that a lot of the reason of why I just cannot tolerate all that fitspiration positive bullcrap stuff is because that was never why I was motivated to be healthy in the place, and therefore have a really hard time swallowing the fact that people actually believe it.  Growing up, all that mattered about eating right and all that jazz was WHAT YOU LOOKED LIKE.  That is all.  Being healthy and not getting diseases was all just a nice side effect of not being an ugly fat blob.  "No in the family is fat so there's no reason you should be."  Well yes actually there is.

I was one of those kids that didn't eat.  Like never.  To make me eat, my parents had to threaten me.  Other than that, food was just not a thing I cared about (GASP!  Shocking, right?)  So my mother, with all the good intentions in the world, got a hold of an appetite enhancer so that I would actually want to eat. She didn't want me to die!  Food is important to, you know, sustaining life and all.  When I say I never ate, I NEVER ATE.  What she didn't know about this appetite enhancer is that IT TASTED AMAZING!!!  You don't give a child (I was about 7-8 years old at the time) medicine that tastes good.  You just don't!!  So she would give me one tablespoon in the morning, and one at night.  I was sneaking one or two in for myself in the middle of the day.  Lo and behold, my appetite increased!  And I was eating everything!  Mission accomplished right?  WRONG!  This stuff worked so well that by the time I was nine years old, I weighed about 110 pounds.  And my appetite has never gone down.

Now I am the ugly fat blob that I'm not supposed to be.  Am I "fat" by normal people standards?  No.  But when I look in the mirror and see my stomach hanging past my feet, when I see my thighs spilling out off the sides of my chair, when I see that I can't wear my favorite jeans anymore because I can't get into them, when I see that I'm still getting asked if I'm pregnant.... Yes.  I'm fat.

And I am sick of it.  I would like to look in the mirror and actually like what it's showing me.  I want to feel pretty in my own skin.

My cousin is getting married in October.  I don't wanna be the fat bridesmaid.  So with all of these things that I want and don't want, I developed a way to motivate myself with this blog.  I'm essentially going to use these desires to guilt myself into making better choices.  Now that I have finally provided all that back story you need, I will start making my better choices.  I will be documenting my choices here and essentially critiquing myself.  It'll be fun, but full of tough love.  I won't be very nice to myself.  But it's what's going to work for me.  Malcolm X said, "By any means necessary."  This change in my life is necessary.  I can't keep doing this nonsense to myself.  I know about all the health concerns this could cause for me.  Tomorrow I start being good.  Or else.  But for now, I'm food's psycho ex-girlfriend.  And tonight, I'm waiting in the bushes by his house.

All right... so I suppose you need a little bit of back story.  Sit down... this'll be a doozy.
So.... the reason I am starting this blog is because I hate all that "fitspiration" crap.  All those little slogans on Pinterest and Facebook like: "Eat Clean/ Train Dirty" and "The only workout you'll regret is the one you don't do" and "Be sore today, not sorry tomorrow" just irritate the living hell out of me!  I CANNOT STAND IT.  And then there are all the transformation pictures.  I hate those too.  While I am happy for those in the pictures, I don't know them.  I can't celebrate those victories as they have nothing to do with me or my journey.  Those people weren't there for me when I was eating that entire chocolate cake.  Those people weren't there for me when I made two pots of spaghetti, covered them in Ragu sauce and ate all that in one sitting.

Let me back track a minute here.  I said (many times) that I have an unhealthy relationship with food.  And I do.  Allow me to break down what I have actually done to myself... when I realized that I practically had a binge eating disorder.

That morning I ate 3 large cinnamon sugar banana pancakes and followed that with an even
larger bowl of cereal.  I had another bowl of cereal later on as a snack.  Then I had some snack cakes (that I had been hording in the car) on my way to the store.  At the store I purchased more snack cakes and ate some (I hid the rest in the car).  For dinner I made myself an entire 8oz box of spaghetti swimming in Ragu.  Ate that, and then I had the other snack cakes hiding in the car.  And before bed, I ate another bowl of cereal.

ARE YOU KIDDING?  Who the hell does that??????  *points at self*  This one does.  And did for a long time.  I didn't realize how guilty it made me feel. And how I only did that on days I was alone in the house because deep down I knew how wrong it was.  No one knew how bad I had gotten and when I tried to tell them they didn't believe me.
"You're exaggerating."
"Lots of people eat too much."
"Whatever.  Just go workout or something."
"That's not a real problem."
"Just stop then."

WHAT?  I didn't really get much help from anyone.  Except, my boyfriend who so ingeniously asked, "What are you gonna do about it?"  Hmmm.  What, indeed?  What does a chronic over eater do?  What does someone who drowns her stress and sorrows and her joys and triumphs into food do? 

So that brings me here.  What to do?  All the positive stuff doesn't work.  My previous attempts blew up in my face.  I'm pretty sure I have devised a fool proof tactic.  Just not quite ready to reveal it yet.  You'll need more back story first... just a teeny bit more, I promise.  So for now, I'm food's psycho ex-girlfriend, and tonight I'm going to look at all our old pictures and cry.

I posted a status on Facebook sometime last year (ha!  Check me out referring to 2013 as "last year" already.  Aren't I fancy?) admitting that I have an unhealthy relationship with food. 
This was that post: "I think I need to just admit that I may have an unhealthy relationship with food. Food is just the good guy who doesn't want to hurt me, but decides that for the best of both us it's time to go our separate ways. I'm the crazy, psycho, stalker ex that refuses to believe it's over."

Yup.  That is what I think of myself.  Food=happy.  Simple equation.  Now, I bet you think I do some kind of working out to counteract all the food I eat.  WRONG!  I used to buy BOXES of Hostess snack cakes and hide them in my car.  And eat them.  In one sitting.  Isn't that just horrible?

Well, the purpose of this blog is to attempt to stop that behavior.  I'll get more in the details of the hows and whys in the next post.  But for now, I am food's psycho ex-girlfriend.  And tonight, I'm going to call him and just breathe into the phone.