the plan

okay ang...that's a lot of words. i know...but here's my plan!
(have i mentioned how i like lists?)

• 7 hours of exercise a week:
i know this sounds like a lot - but it's do-able. break it up in 4-5 days. i cannot commit to ANYTHING for 7 days in a row. plan it out at the beginning of the week the way you would with a meal plan or pick out your week's outfits when you had all that extra freetime in high school. ooooh to have free time like that...

• meal plan!
this is one of my favorite nerdy things to do. pull recipes! make more lists! grocery shop! i love it all. i also love cooking/prepping meals on sunday for the entire week. it makes eating mindless (in a good way) all week.

• cut back on the drinking:
easier said than done. there's ALWAYS a reason to go out. the goal here is only drink once a week and always track the weight watchers points even if i don't like the reality of it.

• count points carefully:
oh ww...i love you when i'm following and it's working. but i absolutely loathe your app icon mocking me when i'm not logging my meals.

• considering...
- seeing a nutritionist
- personal training sessions (but they can be so, so expensive and have never been that ground breaking from what i already know)
- start to swim! (totally scared of this, but will start with classes...)
- therapy. i've never been but i feel like it might be good for me to flush out some of these weight issues with a strange, but again...scared.


what are your secrets to stay on track?

make that change

procrastination. its a funny thing. you can be ridiculously driven! passionate! creative! motivated! inspired! but yet, you lay on the couch, watching reruns of HIMYM with you laptop propped on your knees 'pinning' a life more glamourous than your sweatpants, glasses and extra 30 pounds that just won't leave your middle. but you are tired! you work so hard. you deserve that ice cream. ordering chinese on a friday night is better than binge drinking, right?

these are excuses.
these are pathetic ways to rationalize and comfort yourself. the fact of the matter is, sometimes you just need a serious kick in the ass or a very serious conversation with yourself. and the longer you lay there...the harder it is to move off that glorious couch.

it's approaching the end of february and i'm yet to make any sort of stride towards better myself in 2012. there's so much i want to do! i make lists. big plans! but that couch keeps winning.

today i sit on an airplane (well i did and it's taken me this long to type it out) coming back from an amazingly relaxing island vacation. i'm refreshed and energized. all i can think about is what NOW? and how can i crop my tummy out of most of those beach pics...

i'm time to have that conversation with myself. 2012 is going to be my year of honesty. it's easy to lie to yourself or make excuses. but no more.

my name is angie. i live in the fabulous and bustling metropolis of chicago. there's always something to do - a friend to drink with - or a new restaurant to try. it's fantastic, don't get me wrong - butttttt when you've always been 20-30 pounds overweight, it's hard to maintain that socialite lifestyle without increasing your jeans size. or in my case, legging size. currently, my jeans are in a pike of 'these-don't-button-over-my-gut' in the corner of my closet.

it's bad. i know this. i hate photos of myself that aren't carefully cropped. i'm uncomfortable in most clothes - and sadly, some situations. i'm not narcissistic enough to think others judge me this harshly, but with 30 quickly approaching (hellooooo march 23rd!), it's time to get a hold on things and drop these unwanted pounds that i know are holding me back in more ways than i even realize.

while we're being honest here, i need to tell you i'm scared. i'm scared that just like every other time - i'll do great for 4 or 5 months then summer set in and patios and days at the beach will undo all of my hard work. but i've had enough excuses and i need to just commit to myself and finally, MAKE THAT CHANGE.

Motivation...

I ate a 3 Musketeers for breakfast today.

If that's not an obvious sign that this isn't going as planned, I don't know what is.

And all I want is a Coke, not diet, a real Coke.

Sure, I'm down 6 lbs., but it's been over a month and I should have been down more. My 40-lbs-by-July goal is slowly (but surely) slipping away.

Why can't I do this people?! Why must food be so good?

I'm hoping this new business venture that revolves around fashion will motivate me out of this funk. These hips are really cramping my style.

A Switch in Routine

Okay- let's be honest here. I'm down 5 el bees. That ain't nothin'. That's water. Something's gotta happen and I'm thinking those 5am workouts that aren't happening are going to NEED to become lunch time treadmill walks. It's the only way to actually get me moving and with busy season right around the corner (and every day life screwing every facet of my life up), 5am isn't coming anytime soon.

My struggle right now is that I'm completely motivated to go work out. I've committed to changing my eating habits (I think Coke's stock has gone down since I began this whole adventure. I've cut THAT much pop out of my daily routine) and I've kept myself very close to my 1000 calorie a day diet. Yes, I splurge. Yes, I cheat. Total deprivation will only make the binging worse at the end when I'm really seeing results and think I'm invincible (because I will think that).

So goals are good, huh?
My goal?

I have a pair of single digit skinny jeans I want to wear the weekend of my birthday. That gives me 1 month to get into those jeans.

I'm gonna do it internets. You heard it here first. I have a photoshoot looming over my head and I'm in no way ready to get in front of a camera. I have another shoot in mind, as well, so I'm hoping I'll be even more motivated to get myself put together for that.

Here we go!

Give Mama her Body Back

I'm Kristen, born and raised in the Midwest. I'm the mama of the group and though I don't blame my 4 year old ray of sunshine for ruining *all this*... my complacency and excuses after she came along are exactly what put me in this position. Let's get a few things out in the open here, though... I mean, if we're going to be friends, you need to understand a few things about me.

1. I have the eating habits of a 5 year old
2. I lead a life that, for many, would be more than too much to handle
3. When it comes to working out, I don't take direction well... at all.
4. I honestly don't see the weight on me until someone shows me a photo of myself.
5. I need a goal and it needs to be extreme.

Today was my first day back in the gym and I'm not going to lie... it was good to be back in there. I like going to the gym and I kind of like working out (weird, I know). I'm hoping I can keep this attitude up over the next 20 days (that's how long it takes to make something a habit, right)

Two years ago I dropped about 25 pounds and it was the first time I actually felt back to my old self (i.e. pre-baby). I was walking 4 miles a few times a week and I cut back my food intake pretty severely. Life caught up to me (as did my appetite) and I eventually put that 25 back on and then some. My relationship with food is pretty much emotional. Stress? eat. Tired? eat. Happy? eat. Why not, right? This is why not.

The photo on the left was taken January 1, 2012. No, I'm not pregnant. I'm large. So much so that I joke that my skinny husband and I look like the number 10 when we're out. I secretly thank God Little Miss got his skinny genes because, though I know the skinnies go thru their own struggles, I would hate to watch her go thru this weight battle that I do.

Now, that dress on the right? I own that dress. I want to wear that dress and look like her in that dress. I wore that dress one time and I was nowhere near comfortable in it. Before I get a big long speech about how you can't compare yourself to models and the fashion industry is ruining our self-worth and self-image, I can assure you that's not the case here. For my height and build, I SHOULD be that small. Me thinking the size I am now is acceptable is what's ruining me. I don't feel comfortable in my own skin and THAT's what's not acceptable. I'm giving myself til May to get my shit together and wear this dress like it should be worn... even if I have to throw it on to go to the gas station. That is my goal.

So, I'm on this little trip with Katie and Ang, if anything, to find a good balance and keep some accountability. I can't use that excuse anymore. I don't want to avoid cameras anymore. I don't want to wear baggy clothes anymore. And I definitely don't want to live an oxymoron in double digit skinny jeans anymore. Because if we're being honest here... nobody's going to do it for me, except me.

Katie's manifesto...

I'm Katie. A 29-year-old Midwest transplant trying to make a few changes.

It's 2012. Another year. That whole "time flies" thing is really starting to piss me off. But it's not really the time flying, it passes at the same rate it always did. It comes down to me rushing through life, stressing about the tiniest of things and always wanting more than I have.

I'll be 30 this year. Yeah, yeah, I know, totally still young, but a milestone, nonetheless. My life is far from awful, but I still get stuck in the mindset that by this age, I thought I'd have/do/see more. I feel like I should have met more goals by now, and taken more risks. I constantly tell myself, "the time is now!" But the shy one inside says, "no, no, don't put yourself out there, you might get hurt, or worse! Fail!" So then I fail. And the cycle repeats.

Every year, I start the same way..."This year will be different!" But I give up. Every time. Thinking I've got time to kill. Over the last 3 or so years, I've been reminded time and time again that we don't, in fact, have time to kill. Life is short, nothing new there. Changing my thinking, that's the problem.

I want to be healthy and happy in 2012. So I have decided to do so.

From as early as I can remember, I have been self-conscious. I have hated my body. I'm always comparing and putting myself down. Hiding my body at every moment, never being proud of who I am. I make jokes about it most of the time...about the double-wide hips...the tree trunk legs...I laugh it off and I figure if I make fun of myself first, no one else can, or no one else has to, for that matter, because it's already been said.

I'm an emotional eater. And a foodie. A deadly combination, if you ask me. Someone who loves and enjoys food, but also loves to eat their feelings.

It's time to grow up. I want to feel beautiful, pretty and proud...I want to be a woman, not a shy little girl afraid to stand out in a crowd. I'm sick of wishing I had this body or that body. Constantly worrying that someone is going to notice the jiggle in my thighs that I forgot to cover for a day, the fat arms that are all I see in photographs, undressing and redressing in stores when trying on clothes with my back to the mirror the entire time, because my vision of myself makes me feel physically ill. Taking all that worrying and stress and swallowing it with a large Coke and massive plate of nachos. I think the turning point of 30 is just the time to do so.

My (first) goal, is to lose 40 pounds by July 12. I know I can do it, I've lost the weight before. But only time will tell if I'll sabotage myself, yet again. I'm going to do my best to commit to myself (and to Angie and Kristen and the rest of the internet).

The time is now. So I ordered pizza last night, ate 4 pieces, washed it down with Coke, and didn't let myself feel guilty, for today is a new day.