Eeek. My fat pants are snug. I admit I was bad. I was very bad. If you read my blog, you know I’ve been working through the grief of losing my father so unexpectedly last year. I’m sure you’re all sick of hearing about it. Sorry ’bout that. It’s my journey. 🙂
When this journey started, I spent 6 weeks living in my home town in an empty house. I lived off of Starbucks, Panera’s, Olive Garden, Longhorn Steakhouse and a good bottle of red nightly. I was overwhelmed, sad and lonely. I went through a stage of decadent grief. By the time Christmas was over, I knew I had to get it together. I cut out red meat and almost all of my drinking. 27 days later, I felt no changes. My dang fat pants were tight yesterday. Dang it! Immediate results were needed. I mean come on. I just needed to see a little bit of weight loss for the great sacrifice I had made this month. I love my wine and I miss being able to unwind with a glass. Vices, vices.
So…last night I did it. After a long day at work just sitting and feeling pretty down on myself, I checked out of work and hired a trainer. We start tonight. I’m completely terrified, but also really excited to have pulled the trigger. I need accountability and my husband is too dang nice to tell me to get it together. (Love you B) So here we go. No more Snug as a bug pants. I can do this.
You have to love that I’m standing in my work bathroom taking a selfie with a headband on. Yay for my “I don’t give a bleep forties”