In July 2012, I weighed 204.4 pounds and my size 18 pants were tight. I had a Come to Jesus moment with myself and decided to change my life. So I did. I lost 60 pounds in 10 months and wear size 6 jeans now. I’ve also run 2 half marathons. No one is more amazed than me. Because I am a lazy wench that loves French fries and Dr. Pepper. If I can change my life, anyone can.
I didn’t use any specific weight loss program. I just tried to stop eating crap I knew was bad for me. So I stopped hitting the drive thru and started drinking lots of water. In the beginning, that was a successful day. When that felt less painful, I started tracking my calories on my phone and aimed for 1500.
I look like a sweaty, panting train wreck when I work out. I’m not naturally athletic and none of it comes easy to me. And I still think Dr. Pepper tastes great ice cold while eating a greasy cheeseburger.
But I don’t care. Because it’s not about looking cute while I run or about any of it being easy. It’s also not about being perfect. Because I’m not. It’s just about doing better than 204.4 pounds. If I am, it’s a good day. And if it’s not, I keep coming.
I’m in the best shape of my life. I weigh roughly the same as I did before kids but I was a size 10-12 back then. I was amazed when the new and improved me fit in a size 6. But I still have a muffin top I affectionately call my Jelly Belly and my arms are like wet noodles. Proof that you can still be a work in progress regardless of your size. And I hope I always am.