Several years ago I was indulging—and quite honestly that’s an understatement—in cheeseburgers, pizza and fried chicken—with a horrible attitude and no care in the world. I didn’t exercise, nor did I want to. Not because I didn’t know better, but because I was wallowing in self-pity and sheer laziness.
Self-pity: because my frustration in getting into all of my good clothes was no longer an option; and I was mad at the world because of it. I was bitter, to say the least, and it showed in my inward attitude and my outward appearance.
I hit my heaviest in 2011. It was then, that I hit rock bottom. So I decided to make a change. Don't know if you see it but the key word here is "I"... YOU have to want it bad enough; it has to resonate inside of you.
Laziness: because I was caught in a time where I felt sorry for myself and made excuses; lots of excuses.
I became stagnant in life to the point where I was no longer living... merely existing.
I am an emotional eater. Whether it’s a good emotion or a bad one, I eat… we eat… that’s my family.
And to make matters worse, the fat gene runs in my blood; both sides. That in itself works against me.
There is nothing bad with moderate-indulgence. But for me—at that time in my life—it was more than that. It was a bad lifestyle; a downward spiral to an extremely unhealthy body.
Fast forward, many years later and...
I look back to those days and wonder why we, as humans, allow ourselves to give up sometimes.
Hindsight, that’s what I did—I gave up and drowned myself in food. I cowardly gave up, went through a pity-me phase and blamed every person around me for my miserable attitude!
I'm not perfect; perfection is non-existent—but I can honestly tell you—I am nowhere near the woman I used to be; she no longer exists!
And if someone had told me in 2011, that in 6 years, my dresser drawers and closet would be filled with workout clothes, I wouldn’t have believed it.
I don’t think I ever owned fitness related gear, prior to 2011. I never even thought about it, let alone wear it.
I'm no gym rat or fitness guru, but I am someone who knows what it's like to be skinny—and I know what it's like to be fat.
Being heavy—or better yet, let me stop myself from sugar coating it—let's call it fat, because that's what it is—it's FAT. Being fat was one of the worst outfits I ever wore.
Unless you know me personally or I've shared this with you—you would've never known. I've never, publicly, talked about being fat. But now I want to share my story in hopes that it may inspire someone.
Fat confined me to my body and imprisoned me. It kept me from enjoying life and my family—and looking back—I lost precious time feeling bitter and hating the world, instead of enjoying it.
And although I will never get that time back again, I won't allow it to make me feel guilty either. You can't turn back the clock from mistakes you've made but if you learned from it, don't beat yourself up because of it.
I'm not telling you not to eat! What I am saying is, don't allow your mind to manipulate you. If you're going to eat, exercise. It's a two-way street that only YOU can drive.
And don't take the easy way out either.
There is NO magic powder, or drink, or pill that will melt your fat away indefinitely—it may eliminate fat for a minute—but it will all creep back on your body if you don't exercise.
EXERCISE is the answer and keeping it off is made in the kitchen.