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!

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.