Don’t call it a resolution

I haven’t blogged in a while, so here goes!!

I woke up this morning and decided to weigh myself. It was a huge wake-up call. I weigh more than I ever have in my life. At the same time, I looked at my TimeHop app and saw that five years ago, I was in the 130’s and tweeted I was at my goal weight. I now weigh 40 pounds more and am so mad at myself.


However, I refuse to get down in the dumps over it and go buy a dozen Krispy Kremes and a six-pack of Diet Coke to wash them down with. That’s what I would have done at one time. But I’m saying ENOUGH!! I let myself go over the holidays. Thanksgiving is my favorite. I mean, my mom’s turkey and dressing is my favorite thing on earth. And her chocolate layer cake, and my Aunt Jeannie’s chocolate/peanut butter/oatmeal cookies (of which she makes a batch with Wow butter just for me because I’m allergic to nuts), and anything pumpkin. But I clearly over-indulged.

So, this is me, making myself publicly accountable. Today, I’m going to start working out every day, or at least 4-5 days a week, and eating healthier. I’ve done clean eating detoxes before and I am going to try it again. This is my new motto:


BUT, my friends, this is NOT a resolution. Resolutions are b.s. Let’s be honest: who keeps them? They also seem to be a short-term goal. This is a long-term goal. I want my end of 2010-first half of 2011 body back. And I’m older now, I have thyroid problems, a seriously messed-up foot after having a Lis-Franc fracture in 2014, but I am GOING to do this. I’m at least going to get to 140’s if not 130’s. That is my goal. I’m putting it out there.



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