Some of you might remember me and some of you might not.  Last time I did this, as in’blogged’, it was fun. It made me feel good. I did it daily. And then, then it turned ugly. That is a story for another day. So now, five years later, I’m ready to try again. The fact that it’s been five years is a little mind blowing in and of itself. Why does time do that? Vanishes…and you aren’t even really aware.

I am going to be a little more mindful this time. Mindful of what I say and who I say it about. So mostly it will be about me and mine. If you don’t like me or mine, you should probably stop reading now. Because you’re going to get it all.

Now that we’ve gotten those few housekeeping items out of the way here we go!

I like food. I use food in every way the ‘experts’ tell you not to. If I’m upset or sad, I eat. If I’m tired, I binge it. If I’m happy, I like to eat. If I’m angry, I eat. I eat mindlessly and helplessly, it would seem.  I eat sugar. Refined sugar in whatever form I can get it. Cookies. Crackers. Baked goods. Deep fried things.

Then? I bitch. I bitch and whine and hate on myself and my body. I drive my husband crazy. I set a horrible example for my children. And then, I laugh about it to friends while I eat something covered with melted cheese.

So last fall I decided it was time to quit complaining and do something about it. So I joined the gym. And thanks to a friend pushing me, I actually went to classes. Sometimes only once a week and sometimes four times a week. I watched what I ate to an extent and did lose some weight – about 10 lbs. Then spring came and my kids were busy with sports and so I didn’t have time to go to the gym. Which means I couldn’t  go exactly when I wanted, when it was the least effort and most convenient, so I stopped going. And that meant that I could start eating whatever I wanted again. Makes sense, right?

No. Not at all, but it was a well established pattern.

Then the friend that got me back to the gym started losing weight. And looked great. And being naturally competitive and insecure and prone to jealousy, I needed to know how, why, and what she had done to look so good. She played coy at first. Bitch. But with some more prodding she finally told me. And again, in reference to above, I thought if she can do it, so can I.  Having severe issues with self-esteem and competition is at times an excellent motivator!

So on June 15 I started by first 21 Day Fix Beachbody Challenge. By day 3 I felt like ass. I was shaky. Headache-y. Wondering what the hell I had gotten myself into and looking for an Oreo dealer. But again, if said friend did and was now about 17 sizes smaller than me? I was not quitting. And so I didn’t. And before long I had more energy. I felt good. My body had adjusted to not existing solely on sugar and processed foods. My clothes were fitting better although in some cases not because they were getting too big. It wasn’t a walk in the park. Weekends were hard. It’s football season which means watching Rider games. In our house that means watching football, eating chips, and forming the couch to our bodies. Instead I bought some fizzy water (which was gross) and bitched about not eating what I wanted.

Here’s the thing though. No one was telling me I couldn’t have at the nachos. I knew it was working and wasn’t willing to give it up for roughly 15 minutes of crunchy salty goodness.

So at the end of the 21 days, I was down almost 7 lbs (6.8 to be exact) and 8″.

And I was mad. Why hadn’t I lost more?? I only cheated twice! (I sound like a professional NBA player). But my cheats included a hamburger bun one day and some five cent candies another.

This is where I’m my own worst enemy. 6.8 lbs in 21 days is good. Never mind the inches lost and the belt that was being penetrated in new places as my waist shrunk! So once I got over myself I was able to acknowledge my success.

I work out almost every day. Some days are definitely harder than others. Some days I want to throat punch the lovely woman leading the workouts (they are on DVD, no one is actually at risk). I grunt and sweat and throw myself around the basement and occasionally shout obscenities at the TV. But at the end of that 30 minutes? I’m glad I did it. Minute 12? I feel like this might be the worst thing ever… it’s a mind game. Every time. But it’s worth it.

Am I now the poster girl for clean eating and exercising? No. I’m the poster girl for not giving up (so far). Last night I ate two brownies, roughly a pound of cheese dip with half a loaf of bread, three carrot sticks and a celery stalk and washed it all down with vodka and diet pop.  Does that mean I’m quitting? No. That means I enjoyed a night with friends. It means that on August 10th I am starting another 21 Day Fix. It means that whether I lose 4 lbs or 14, I will be proud of myself because I didn’t quit. I won’t quit.

And it likely means on August 13th you should stay out of my way…


6 thoughts on “Don’t Give Up Over a Little Cheese Dip

  1. Good read Angela! I need to remember s lots of the things you talked about! It’s pretty easy to beat ourselves up about one bad day!


  2. So glad you are back. I love reading your blogs!!!!! You are my inspiration to start doing my workout videos I bought that are collecting dust.


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