I am not here to talk.

Again this morning, my alarm went off at 6:00 AM and I didn't want to get out of bed. I am tired, I want to sleep, but I got my ass out from under the covers and made my shake and went to the gym.

When I got there, one of the people I am friends with walked up to me and literally got in my face and said "What's up Dev?" and continued to walk right next to me. I was very angry. My response, "I'm BUSY." I don't have much time these days to spend in the gym. I work every day and I have regular life things to take care of. I have about an hour a day that I can take to workout. I may have sounded like a total bitch, but really, I am not in the gym to socialize. I am there to workout and leave. I will wave, I will nod, I will say hello, but to have a conversation or gossip is not a part of my gym routine.
I am done being nice, I am done letting people walk all over me. I am on a mission and I don't care. If you are in my way, I will let you know. If you are annoying me, I will tell you. I won't be rude about it, but I will straight up tell you. I am not sorry either, I am being honest. Just leave me alone and let me do me.

"Don't dream it, be it."

Winners never quit, quitters never win.

It has been almost 3 weeks since I have started my 2nd transformation.  I have been logging my food everyday and waking up in the morning and CURSING my alarm.  Even thought it goes off at 6AM, I still get my sorry ass out of bed.  I have started my 2 day a week 2 a day workouts too.  This is a huge accomplishment for me, since for the past two years I have made it to the gym at most 4 days a week.  I have gotten to the gym almost every day, except the few days I was sick.
The feeling you get knowing that in the end this will pay off is amazing.  When the alarm goes off, I don't want to get up.  I WANT to go back to sleep.  I WANT to just stay curled up under the warm blankets and pretend I didn't hear it.  BUT I DON'T.  I WANT to look my best and feel my best.  The difference in my mood is amazing.  I am happier and I have more energy.  Today is the first day that I have actually wanted a nap.  It's insane.
Brian, my fiance, has been encouraging, as he always is.  He notices the difference in my body.  I know I am losing, even if that God forsaken scale doesn't want to move.  I am eating what I need to eat every day, hitting my calorie count almost on the mark.  I will be better, I will do better, I will succeed.  I am a winner, I am not a quitter.

"Don't dream it, be it."

Success is the best revenge.

No lie.  Success IS the best revenge.  I have been on point for the past two weeks with my food.  I have not lied to myself and have been actually enjoying the food I am eating.  The other day I went to the gym and someone I used to be friendly with was there working out too.  It really amazed me that I looked so much better in two weeks and this person didn't look very different from the last time I saw them about a year ago.  I have to say, it just made me push HARDER that day.  I pushed myself to my limits with my workout, just because I KNEW the harder I pushed now, the better I would feel and look tomorrow.  Sometimes I have to just let those people rent space for a short period of time so that I can push harder.  I want to succeed, because that will make others inspired or jealous.  Hopefully, I can inspire more.  I try to surround myself with good people, but once and a while there is going to be that bad egg.

"Don't dream it, be it."

It works if you work it.

This week was an awesome week for me.  I have been eating yummy food and staying within my calorie range for the day.  I made it to the gym 5 days, even if it was just cardio because I have been sick.  The bigger more exciting thing was putting on my sports bra that I have been wearing an extender in and being able to take the extender OFF.  That means I have lost at LEAST 1 inch around in my "chest" measurement.  One week, more motivation.

Hard work and determination really pay off.  It works if you work it.

"Don't dream it, be it."

Progress, not perfection.

This is a simple saying that I can say with honesty.  NOBODY is perfect and NO ONE will ever be.  Why do I choose to beat myself up trying to be perfect?  It's not worth the time or effort, I could be using it toward making progress.  I am happy today because I set a goal of holding myself accountable with my diet and exercise program.  So far, so good.  By no means was I perfect the past week, but I did stick to the plan; the plan being track my food and my exercise.

This is better than I have ever done in the past.  Progress, not perfection.  I have been able to get to the gym 5 days the past week and kept within my calorie range to lose weight.  In the past, I was only able to track things for 3 days at a clip and not put my exercise into the equation.  I have been using a heart rate monitor for my actual calories burned and plugging that into the program online, along with every bite of food I consume every day.
The only way I can continue to try to achieve my goal, is to keep holding myself accountable for the decisions I make.  If I mess up, I can't beat the hell out of myself, that will not help me progress.  I need to look at the good I have done and pick myself up, brush off the mistake and keep moving forward.  Today is another day to make more progress.

"Don't dream it, be it."

Fear, Anger and Resentment

Fear: to be afraid or apprehensive.

Anger: a strong feeling of displeasure and usually of antagonism.

Resentment: a feeling of indignant displeasure or persistent ill will at something regarded as a wrong, insult, or injury.

I have to stop being afraid to take care of myself.  I am always trying to make sure everyone else is taken care of.  Truth is, I need to be taken care of too.  I have needs, wants, goals AND limits.  I have to set better boundaries for myself and my time.  I want to be able to keep my eating habits under control.  The only way to truly do this is to set better boundaries and stick to them.

I need to say no more often to people and stop feeling sorry about it.  I didn't cause the situation for the person to ask for help, so it's not my fault and I don't need to feel guilty about it.  Every time I choose to say yes to someone when I really shouldn't leads to anger and then resentment.  I start to burden myself by saying yes and then get stressed about it.  I am more important than anything someone could ask of me, if I am not 100%, then I am not really of any use.

I have made the decision to be more courageous and "just say no".

"Don't dream it, be it."

Out of Despair Find Hope

Fast forward to 2013.  I have been able to keep MOST of my weight off.  I have been up and down on the scale and after being diagnosed with Celiac's two years ago you would THINK I could drop faster. NOPE.  I am most definitely a food addict.  Even thought my diet consists of protein shakes, chicken breast, lean ground turkey, vegetables, brown rice, sweet potatoes, etc., I still have a problem with portion control.  I struggle right now to drop below 160 lbs.  I have been comfortable with myself and my body, but would LOVE to lose a few pants sizes.
In 2009 I was able to get my muscle mass up tremendously and my body fat very low and my weight was 130-135 lbs.  I went from being a size 10/12 to a size 5/7!  For me, that is AWESOME.  Never in a million years when I started this whole transformation did I think I would get anywhere near a size 8, let alone a size 5/7; nor did I think that I would be weighing 130-135 lbs when I weighed 210 lbs at the start.  MY motivation was there, the workouts were there and the diet was dead on.  So, what happened you ask?
Life happened.  Old habits die hard, it's the truth.  My fiance was having stomach issues toward the end of 2009 and found out he needed his gallbladder removed.  Surgery was not something that was easy for me (even though he was the one going under).  We had just opened the store about 9 months prior to this and a majority of our customers where men between the ages of 16-24 years old.  Unfortunately, a lot of them didn't want to talk to ME because I am a WOMAN. Yes, I know, a new millennium and STILL women don't get treated like equals LOL.  Whatever.  We set the date for him to go in for surgery and closed the store that day so I could be there with him.  That kinda started the downward spiral for me.
The stress of trying to take care of Brian, being at a retail store doing the volume of business that we do by myself,  trying to get my workouts in and making sure I was eating right took a toll on me mentally.  That's when I started to fall off track with eating and I woke up in the morning exhausted from working all day and chose not to get to the gym a few days.  We were open 7 days a week at that  point and I was there for close to 2 weeks by myself while Brian was recovering.  When I am overwhelmed, I used to go to the gym to get out my frustration.  Not this time, I was mentally broken and physically exhausted.  My body said no and my brain was not willing to fight, so, like I said, old habits die hard.  I reverted back to the comfort of food and started to binge eat.
Over the next couple of months I stopped the binge eating, but it was too late.  I was way off routine.  My fiance was healed and back to the store in two weeks, but I was broken.  I had somehow lost the will and determination to continue eating totally clean and religiously get to the gym.  To relieve stress I would go to the pizza or Chinese food place and get my drug of choice or eat cake or cookie or candy, whatever was going to make me happy.  My thought process was so far off, I would literally tell myself that I was fine and didn't need to be a size 5/7.  I was lying to myself, making excuses for my behavior.  I went from being a size 5/7 to a 9 very quickly, telling myself, it's only one size, not big deal.  It isn't really, but what happened over the next two years is.
In 2010, we moved our retail store to a new location in June AND in September my fiance was diagnosed with skin cancer.  He was going to need surgery to have it removed.  Another excuse for me to eat.  About a week and a half of being at the store by myself, but we were only open 6 days a week now.  More stress, more aggravation and more 16-24 year old guys who didn't want to talk to me. "Where's Brian?" was all I heard.  Can you say STRESSED?
2011 and 2012 were my years to shine in the medical community.  In the beginning of 2011, I started to have an allergic reaction to something and my face was breaking out, enter the steroid creams.  Join that with some severe stomach problems.  I was in the ER in January because I couldn't stop vomiting and my stomach was cramping so badly I couldn't even keep a sip of water down.  Left the ER that night doped up on morphine with no diagnosis of what was wrong.  Followed up with a gastro doctor and went through a ton of testing to find out that MY gallbladder was working at about 30%, LOL.  At the same time, I was diagnosed with Celiac's disease.  No acid reflux or anything like that though.  That only took 3 months to figure out.  I asked if I should have the gallbladder removed, since it was causing pain and I was told no because it was "still working at 30% and they usually don't recommend having it out unless it is at 20% or below". Um, ok...you're the doctor.
I avoided fats and wheat like the plague, but the pain continued.  It got to the point at the end of August where I was eating dry chicken breast and dry brown rice and getting nauseous after I ate.  I went to my regular doctor to get an opinion on the gallbladder situation and he looked at copies of the tests from the gastro and said it sounded like I was having a problem with acid reflux. WTF? I didn't have heartburn and there were no signs of acid reflux from my endoscopy...he said I probably developed it over the past few months.  Um, ok...again, you're the doctor.  He gave me a prescription for Prilosec and I left.  That was a Thursday, filled the script took a pill and OMG things got so bad.  I am not even going to describe the results, just know that the next 4 days were very uncomfortable and I didn't need Prilosec.  Brian and I talked and he told me to just go consult with the surgeon.
I did.  That Monday I was squeezed in and after looking at my tests, he wanted to take my gallbladder out the next day!  I scheduled for the surgery in a week and got that thing out.  The surgeon said I was on the verge of an infection because my gallbladder was so inflamed.  Really?  I would have never guessed from the excruciating pain I was in.
Enter a month off from the gym.  I had already been off my game for awhile, this just made it worse.  A month off?  Try doing that and getting back into the swing of things.  NOPE, not me.  Will and determination were out the window, 2012 came and I was no more motivated.  I was comfortable at my now size 11 pants.  I accepted that my body liked being 160-165 lbs and I was just going to maintain. HAHA!  I got back up to 170 lbs and those size 11 pants were PRETTY SNUG by the summer.  AND...by the end of the summer we were moving the store AGAIN. During the super storm/hurricane SANDY of all things.
STRESS, I can't stress it enough.  It is my nemesis.  It is the devil.  It is the driving force behind my eating habits.  I had a long conversation with my fiance around the time of the move.  I told him I couldn't do this anymore, I needed to be able to focus on myself.  I needed to get my food, workouts and routines in check.  I told him after the store was finished (it's still not totally done and it's January!) that I wanted to be able to fix myself.  Those pants fitting too tight and the scale being up so much was my breaking point again.  I didn't want to be that fat girl in the Fashion Bug dressing room bawling my eyes out again.  I made a promise to myself that those jeans were going to go in the garbage by the middle of December 2012 because I was going to drop a pant size, and I did.  I bought size 9's.
There is hope for me after all...

"Don't dream it, be it."

We admitted we were powerless over our addiction - that our lives had become unmanageable.

Well, some of you have seen my before and after pictures. It has been a long time coming, but I wasn't always this way. I grew up an active kid, always riding bikes and playing outside jump rope, hide and seek, manhunt...etc. I was never overweight as a child. My mom and dad always portioned out my food, I always joke with my fiance, Brian that I am gunna give myself the "M & M" portion...my mom would just cover the bottom of the bowl (with the bowl showing through LOL). I wasn't allowed to eat whatever I wanted...just what was given to me. I weighed 125-135 lbs all through high school.

That all changed when I got older...I got a job and had my own money. I started cooking for myself. I could eat whatever I wanted, because it was my money LOL. I bought boxes of spaghetti, Rice-A-Roni, Ramen noodles and ate the whole thing by myself, sometimes two boxes or packages...not the best of choices looking back at it. It really was the beginning of my weight demise. Looking back everything is as clear as day, but in the moment I wasn't doing anything wrong. I didn't really eat "junk" food, just CARBS. By the time I was 23 was 155 lbs and was gaining FAST. I was up to 165 in no time and maintained for a long time. But my food addiction was getting worse, I was eating whole packages of Oreo's with skim milk (LOL! REALLY MADE A DIFFERENCE RIGHT?!)...still eating the boxes of pasta, Rice-A-Roni...not to mention the candy bars, cakes, whole bags of candy, potato chips and pretzels....

BUT at this point in my life, I was driving a limousine and not doing any kind of activity at all. Sitting in a car driving to airports at all hours of the day and night with the extent of my activity being walking into a rest area or an airport to pick someone up. Most days I woke up early (1,2 or 3 AM) and didn't eat breakfast...then stopped at McDonalds, Dunkin' Donuts EVEN White Castle, yes WHITE CASTLE, 4 or 5 hours AFTER WAKING UP. I still to this day can tell you where every fast food restaurant or diner is along the ride to Philadelphia Airport, Newark Airport, Atlantic City Airport, JFK OR LaGuardia!

I really don't know how I let myself get to that point. My job was killing me, literally. And I made excuses all day everyday on why I couldn't eat a homemade meal. EVERY excuse. And that is exactly what they were, EXCUSES. I was so tired from the crappy food and working long hours that I didn't have time to make any REAL food. RIGHT?! NO. I could have easily made dinner or breakfast. I was married to someone who didn't cook (he made me mac & cheese one day and messed it up. It was out of a box! From that day forward he was not allowed to cook for me!) and he was not in the least bit concerned about what I looked like or felt like or cared about his or my health.

In 2003, I was in between an airport drop off/pick up @ Philadelphia Airport on a Saturday afternoon and had time to kill. I went to a shopping center not far from the airport. There was a Fashion Bug there and they were having a huge sale because it was Labor Day weekend. I tried on a bunch of clothes, mostly shirts. I literally broke down into tears in the dressing room and didn't buy ANYTHING. Nothing fit at all and I didn't want to keep going up in sizes. I was so angry and upset with myself I looked in the mirror, face beat red and make-up smeared from crying and said "I am going to join Curves tomorrow". That was a start.

The next day (Sunday) I went to the Super Fresh parking lot in Manahawkin and was ready to sign up...they were closed. I said I am coming here tomorrow. I did, and they were closed. This was not going well, but I was determined! I went on Tuesday evening signed up, got weighed and measured and did my first EVER workout. I was 196 lbs. I yo-yo'd with my weight but was able to get back down to 165-170 lbs and stay there. I went 3 days a week faithfully for a year and a half...then I don't know what happened. In 2005, just before my 2 year anniversary of joining, I stopped going. I didn't just fall out of going, I STOPPED.

By October of that same year...I had GAINED. No exercise back to old eating habits...it was a disaster. After the holidays...I was 210 lbs a size 22 pants and XXL shirts. I was so angry. I made a New Year's resolution (like God knows how many other people) that I was going to join a gym. January 19, 2006, I did just that. I joined The Ocean Club in Manahawkin and hired a personal trainer...Jordan. It was the greatest decision of my life.

I started training with Jordan 2 days a week. When we sat down in the trainer office the first day we met I was so nervous. Jordan was young and very fit. I was a fat girl, so out of shape. I wouldn't even let him weigh and measure me because I was so embarrassed (BIG MISTAKE, wish I would have...I would have had all my measurements now). We set goals, short term and long term, all goals that would be achievable To this day I remember him asking me what size I wanted to be because he didn't believe in setting a "weight goal" because it wasn't realistic. I would be putting on muscle and losing at the same time and I would probably be heavier on the scale but look better. So I immediately said I would LOVE to be a size 6, but I think an 8 or a 10 would be great because my hips were to wide to ever fit in such a small size. I have never had kids or even been pregnant! What an idiot I was....LOL! But he wrote 8/10 on the paper as my long term goal. Short term goals were eating better, getting to the gym more...etc. Just small things to try to achieve before reaching the big goal, it always gave me something to work at aside from the weight loss.

A few months in I had dropped 20, 25 and then 30 lbs. For those of you who know me....I WAS still married. My husband of close to 9 years was not supportive of my efforts in any way. He joined the gym with me and bought training sessions that I took and used instead because he never went. I had motivation from people around me at the gym and my biggest motivation was BRIAN. He had come back into my life after close to 10 years of not seeing him. He was one of my best friends in high school, but that is a whole other story...maybe some other time. He was there every day encouraging me to go to the gym and watch my body change. He was making me try foods that I would have never eaten in a million years! He actually got me to be more conscious of what I was putting into my body.

Brian also made me realize something....I was miserable. Not only was I miserable, but I was also eating myself to death. Even with all the working out I was still binge eating and destroying all of the hard work I was doing in the gym. Brian pointed out that I was a FOOD ADDICT. Brian, being an addict himself (again, that's another story) explained to me that I was making excuses for why I couldn't make better food choices. I will never forget him saying to me "JUSTIFICATION AND DENIAL". He started explaining "The Program" to me and pointing out my behaviors. OMG, I realized after a very short period of time, I WAS AN ADDICT. Every time something happened in my life, good or bad, I ATE. Food was my reward and my sympathy, it was my comfort for EVERYTHING GOOD AND BAD. The first thing he taught me was "The Serenity Prayer".

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
The courage to change the things I can,
And wisdom to know the difference.

The serenity prayer was just the beginning. He also started explaining "The 12 Steps".

Step 1 - We admitted we were powerless over our addiction - that our lives had become unmanageable.

WOW. Huge realization....I kinda let food rule my life. Yes, I LET FOOD RULE MY LIFE. I was addicted to food. Sounds kinda weird, since you need food to SURVIVE. But, I let the wrong kind of food rule my life. I ate crap food, still hadn't made great progress on my diet. But after that...I started to open my eyes and change my eating...by the end of 2006, I had dropped 60 LBS (and the husband). I was weighing 150-155 lbs depending on when you caught me! But my body was different, I was much more muscular and had a lot less body fat...but I reached my long term goal...I was a size 8!

I had also taken the first step...I admitted I was powerless over food - that my life had become unmanageable. I WAS NOT GOING TO LET FOOD RULE MY LIFE ANYMORE.

"Don't dream it, be it."