So fresh and so clean

Isn't it funny how the simplest things can lift the spirits and turn a bad week around? A great cup of coffee, a perfect song, a sweet old man holding the door open for his wife, a new haircut ...

That's right, I got a haircut! And it is bangin'. (Gosh I'm lame.)

After going 8 whole months without even a trim, this is an awesome change. It's lighter, it's healthier, it's super cute, and I'm so happy to have bangs again. I think this will sound trite or cliche or something, but it really did make my mood so much better. I put it up in an adorable ponytail earlier and all of a sudden was inspired to go beat up my punching bag for 20 minutes.

Did you catch that? MY HAIR MADE ME WANT TO EXERCISE. It was awesome.

In all seriousness, I don't think it's a coincidence that healthier, better looking hair prompted me to get active. It had been a frizzy, lifeless mess full of split ends before tonight. I've been meaning to get it cut for several weeks, but I always put off making a call or I would get distracted with something else and forgot about it. Taking the initiative to actually follow through was a bit of an eye opener. Don't ask me why it's so difficult for me to leave the house even for something as enjoyable as a haircut; I couldn't give you an answer. But I finally did it, and I think it might have given me that oomph of motivation I need to keep moving forward.

Thinking back on that list from yesterday's Thought Catalog article I mentioned, there's a strong case for me forcing myself to try something new or different every day to give me an energy boost. Perhaps if I train myself to try new things, it will help me develop better habits. Who knows ... maybe when I'm done writing this, I'll go read a book!

And just because I'm still under my calorie count for the day and I'm pretty proud of myself:

Breakfast: Honey wheat bagel with cream cheese
Lunch: Turkey meatloaf and corn
Dinner: Turkey tater tot casserole with peas and corn (we had a butt ton of ground turkey), some Cheez-Its, and a small chocolate milkshake (a surprise treat from Chris)

Today's menu doesn't look all that healthy, but according to My Fitness Pal, it's still less than 1,500 calories. I'll take it!

I'm back! And I'm frustrated.

First off, let's just not talk about what I've eaten since my last post and move on.

Hello all. I'm sorry I've abandoned you for the past few days. I honestly just haven't known what to write about recently, so I thought it would be better to be silent and reflect rather than post something meaningless. Also, Chris stole the computer from the office and hooked it up to the TV for some reason, so there's that.

I've been thinking a lot about happiness lately. One of my oldest, dearest friends in the world started up his own blog as a way to figure out how to achieve happiness for himself, and I think that is absolutely wonderful. I look forward to reading his posts every day and I sincerely hope he eventually finds what he's looking for. But his writing has made me reevaluate what my blog's purpose is. I told you guys it would be about losing weight and getting healthy, but so far that's not happening and it's entirely my own fault. For the life of me, I can't figure out what compels me to eat junk and avoid exercise when I not only know the consequences, but I have thought and written about them extensively. It's like a little gremlin is living inside my brain that turns off my healthy living motivation switch at about 7:30 p.m. As convenient as it is for me to blame a nonexistent brain creature, though, I'm starting to wonder if I have a serious problem. I think I finally have to admit to myself that I'm not happy.

Let me be clear: I'm happy with my husband, my family, my friends, my career, my house, my dog and mostly everything else. I've been blessed so much that I really couldn't list everything if I tried. But for years I've been content to live with the body I thought God gave me, when in actuality I've been abusing my body by turning it into something unhealthy. Outwardly, I've attempted to advocate for body positivity and acceptance because it's heartbreaking to see other women hurt themselves trying to achieve their ideal of beauty. Inwardly, I'm lost and confused and grasping for some answer as to why and how I got this way.

Another thing I've realized that's contributing to this feeling of unhappiness is that I'm a boring person. Please don't be that nice friend who comments and says, "No you're not, you're a blast, and conversations with you are so interesting!" I know what you're trying to do. I thank you for it. It still isn't helping. I really, truly am very boring. I have the same routine every morning, every day, every week, every month. A few fun outings are sprinkled in occasionally so I don't go insane, but my life is pretty stagnant. I read this Thought Catalog post this morning: http://thoughtcatalog.com/elyse-gorman/2014/01/48-little-things-you-can-do-to-make-yourself-happier-now/ (Say what you want about Thought Catalog, every so often they come through with some great stuff.) And I realized that I literally do almost none of those things. It's not that I don't want to, it's just the thought never even crosses my mind that I have these options. Have I completely lost the ability to think creatively? Am I a hardened old cynic without realizing it? Has marriage thrust me into this self-absorbed world where all I care about is snuggling with my husband every night instead of us going out and actually doing something interesting together?

That's a lot to unpack.

On that first note, I feel like it's high time for me to talk to a professional about my weight issues. I don't really know what's going on in my own body, so I don't really know what or how much it needs. Following a doctor's plan seems like the best way to sort this whole mess out. However, the one thing keeping me back from seeking out advice from a doctor or weight counselor is the knowledge that I'll have to step on a scale. It sounds so stupid but it really terrifies me. I've even been putting off making a yearly OB/GYN appointment because yep, there's a scale in that office too. I really don't know where all this shame and embarrassment comes from. Doctors and dietitians are (mostly) nonjudgmental and are only there to help, not criticize, plus they're also used to seeing cases much more severe than mine. I think I just need to swallow my pride and do it. Otherwise I'll never get to my weight loss goal, because I'm unwilling to even track my progress properly.

On the second note, well ... I think that's something I'll have to work on little by little. Some of it is stuff Chris and I can work on together. Some of it is stuff I have to figure out on my own. Maybe it's best to focus on just one problem at a time.

I interviewed a woman the other day for a Josephine story. The topic was about eco-friendly living, but she said something that applies to any situation that stuck with me: "You have to be deliberate about it." Any type of positive change I want to achieve can only happen if I constantly make choices to promote that change. This blog isn't meant to only track my progress and give stupid updates like, "Look how great I'm doing!" It's a blog about life, and life is hard. Consider this my attempt at finding my own happiness as well, like my good friend is; but in my case, I have to figure out things like healthy living and self-control on my journey. These are my thoughts and feelings about the whole process, and sometimes they're ugly. But they are real. And I'm okay with that.

Learning to read

There are a lot of days that I wake up and go about my day thinking to myself, "I'm a big fraud."

You see, for my entire life, people have known me as the bookworm. From the time I could grasp, I'd always had a book in my hands. I loved learning new things and becoming friends with characters and falling into the colorful world my mind created from black and white pages. It truly made my childhood magical.

Then I got older, and somehow the books I chose to read morphed into a status symbol. I still loved to read, but I secretly compared my book choices to other books my friends were reading, and I made decisions about what I read based on how cool I thought it would make me seem to other people. I distinctly remember reading The Bell Jar junior year of high school and giving myself a huge invisible pat on the back because it made me so freaking mature and interesting. Isn't it funny how the teenage brain works?

College definitely derailed my reading habits. I was thrust into the wonderful, wild world of the English major. I do not for one second regret my decision to be an English major, but I do recognize the damage it did to my mentality about reading. On average, I had to read about 30 books per semester to keep up with all my classes. I finished most of them, but it was mostly through cramming and speed reading. I didn't have the luxury of fully immersing myself in something I really enjoyed because I didn't have enough time to get that invested. I understand not every English major has this problem, but it was a huge struggle for me. It turned me into a person that views reading as a chore instead of a fun pastime.

Now, more than a year removed from graduation, I have yet to pick up a new book and read it cover to cover for leisure. I've re-read old favorites (so basically, Harry Potter) and I've attempted starting new books that I've always wanted to read but never got around to, but I never make a commitment to finish them. The one book I did successfully complete in a few days was mostly pictures. (Hyperbole and a Half. Go buy it NOW.) A good friend recently gave me a book she likes as a gift, and as much as I really want to read it and share my thoughts with her, I can't bring myself to pick it up. I spend my nights watching Netflix and cleaning the house instead. Who does chores to avoid doing something they used to do for fun?? I feel like I've lost my love of reading, and it makes me very sad.

This is problematic not just because I want to learn to love reading again, but because I want to become a better writer. Every single professional writer will tell you that if you want to write better, you should read more. But I'm not doing that, therefore my writing remains pretty stagnant. I also feel dumber because reading challenging material expands the mind, so naturally, not reading makes it stay the same, or even regress a little. That's what I've convinced myself, anyway.

So now, dear readers, I ask a big favor from you: In the comment section, please share the title of a book you've read that was an eye-opener, a life-changer, or something you just couldn't put down. I'm seriously begging you. I'm counting on finding that one book that opens my eyes and rewires my brain. It doesn't have to be new or trendy or something Oprah would recommend, it just needs to be good. And maybe a little short. I don't think my brain could handle an 800-page epic right now. I look forward to checking out your suggestions!

P.S. Here's a short list of books I sincerely want to try, but haven't gotten around to yet. Feel free to comment on them as well, if you've read them!
-The Glass Castle
-The Art of Racing in the Rain
-The Fault in Our Stars
-Wave
-The Book Thief
-Wonder
-really anything by Chuck Palahniuk or Carl Hiaasen. I admire their writing styles, but they've produced so much great content that I don't know where to start.
-I've always wanted to get into Stephen King, but I'm a wimp and I don't want nightmares.

Alright, everyone -- recommend away!

My Friday evenings are boring and sort of lonely, so this is what happens.

A random thought occurred to me tonight that won't go away until I write it down: Humans are the only species on Earth who don't take food at face value.

We aren't content with just finding something on the ground or killing something and then ingesting it for survival. We have to mix and roast and chop and blend and toss a bunch of things together on a plate before it's worthy to pass our lips. And then package and mass produce it so other people know about the awesome thing we just created because we have big egos.

Don't read too far into this and think I'm being philosophical. I'm not. The thought occurred to me as I was giving my dog his dinner. Every single day for the past 7 years, the poor thing has eaten basically the same meal. And he doesn't even mind. (At least I don't think so.) Sure, he begs for human food or treats every so often, but each night he still eats a bowl of brown, crunchy, gravy-flavored bits that most likely contain sawdust as a filler, and he's fine with it.

So as humans, are we just self-absorbed? Is food not good enough for us the way it comes out of the ground? We have the audacity to assume that whatever we concoct is sooooo much better than what Mother Nature already offers?

I didn't really want this to be the main topic of tonight's post, but I guess that's what happened. And I promise, I'm not trying to make some food revelation or a grand argument for organic produce or the caveman diet. I just wonder how it came about that a person decided one day he was bored with what he was eating and decided to change it. That thought probably extends to a lot of different facets of life I'm not properly prepared to contemplate right now, so I'll save it for another day.

I know this was a weird post, and feel free to ignore it. Part of it might stem from the fact that I just finished the first season of Girls and it's kind of rocking my world right now and I need time to process it ... before I start season 2. Yeah, it's one of those nights.

Oh, and before I forget (and because I have to make up for not posting yesterday):

Thursday Breakfast: Crustless veggie quiche. Divine.
Lunch: Tomato basil soup, grilled mozzarella sandwich on whole wheat, wheat saltines, and carrot sticks. Also divine. Seriously, if you haven't tried Cafe Pony Espresso yet, you're not living.
Dinner: Bean burrito and a breakfast corndog (a.k.a. pig in a blanket). That's embarrassing. Also, some frozen pizza later that night. And two (large) glasses of red wine. I told you nighttime is the worst for me.

Friday Breakfast: Low-fat vanilla yogurt and red seedless grapes.
Lunch: A gourmet hamburger slider, a lamb medallion with satay sauce (I interviewed a chef today and he gave me samples) and a leftover pork chop when I went home later. Ugh. Too much meat.
Dinner: Another bean burrito and some microwave cheese nachos. Shockingly, I'm still below my calorie limit for the day. So ... yay?

P.S. I thought publicly revealing every meal on here would be mortifying, but so far I find it kind of hilarious. I'm sure that however strange my eating habits are, there are loads of people with weirder diets than mine. I take comfort in that, I think. Maybe we're all a little weird, and somehow that makes us all normal.

I don't have a good title for tonight's post so this will have to suffice.

Breakfast: Um ... nothing. I know, I know, I'm breaking the cardinal rule of a healthy diet. Sue me.
Lunch: Two all beef hot dogs from Omaha Steaks (thanks Grandma!) with a little bit of ketchup and mustard. No bread. Chris made fun of me and called it little kid food, but I don't care, hot dogs are awesome. Then I intended on eating leftover carrot soup, but instead ate cheese nachos with salsa that Chris made because it was there. Not great.
Dinner: Ground turkey crunchy tacos (ground turkey is my new best friend) with lettuce, salsa, olives, refried beans and a little bit of cheese. All in all pretty healthy, except that I ate three when I should have stopped at two. Oh, and a glass of red wine. Gotta get those antioxidants. I'll also probably have some vanilla yogurt later as dessert.

As you can see, documenting meals isn't very interesting or fun, and sometimes it sucks to read when I've gone overboard. When you don't write it down, somehow it almost seems as if it didn't happen. But it did, and when I'm done writing this I'm going to do some free weight exercises and crunches and jumping jacks to make up for it. I promise.

Tonight was another lovely evening spent with a good friend, one that I don't get to see very often. The main topic of the night mostly revolved around money. We came to the conclusion that adulthood is hard and frustrating and everything would just be easier if we all won the lottery. But that's not gonna happen, so we have to deal with it in the meantime.

Relationship-wise, marriage has been great. Financially, though ... not so much. In less than a year, we've had to deal with Chris being out of work and trying to find a job, being behind on utility bills, owing money to loans and hospital bills and credit cards, moving to a new place that was more affordable for us, being behind on MORE utility bills, and figuring out what to do about two vehicles that have one tire in the junkyard.

(Get it? One foot in the grave? I was really proud of myself when I wrote that.)

I am eternally thankful that both of us now have jobs that pay the bills and that we actually enjoy, but it's still hard slogging through each month living paycheck to paycheck and hoping we'll make it to the next week. We aren't reckless with money, but we have no idea how to manage it properly or make a budget. Because of this, we're contemplating going through a Dave Ramsey course. I've heard pros and cons about his particular approach, but mostly what Chris and I need are structure and self discipline, and we've finally come to the conclusion that we don't have any on our own. We need help figuring things out.

Through a lot of hard work and restless nights, we've somehow made it this far. We take comfort in the fact that every young married couple goes through the same problems, and it won't always be like this. We'll see where this new adventure takes us, but in the meantime I'll try to enjoy the ride and just hope it doesn't crash. If all else fails, I'll hold Dave Ramsey personally responsible for my financial misfortunes and ask him to donate some of those millions he's saved that he always talks about to us poor unfortunate souls. That seems like a solid plan.

Throwin' hunneds like a boss.

Goals

Alright, here's the deal.

I know this probably shouldn't come as a surprise to me, but I'm not very good at keeping my word. Actually, I'm really bad at it.

I don't want people to worry about me being untrustworthy or anything. I say this in reference to promises I make to myself that I never end up keeping. Almost a month into the new year, and it feels like I've gotten nowhere with my attempts at eating better (and less) and exercising more. It occurred to me that the possible cause for this, besides my general lack of self discipline, is that I never wrote down my goals or shared them with all you lovely people in the first place.

To add another kicker, just because I like to keep things fresh and possibly because I'm a masochist, I've also decided to include a couple consequences for not meeting these goals. Someone or something has to hold me to my word, so maybe if I enforce consequences on days when I'm down, it'll help me get back on track.

So without further ado, here are my weight loss and health goals for 2014, along with brief explanations.

Goals:

-I must log everything I eat into My Fitness Pal, even if the calories go over my daily limit. When I re-downloaded the app, I set a limit of 1,500 calories based on the number of pounds I eventually want to lose. I got into this bad habit, though, of neglecting to update my meals and calories if I knew I ate something that pushed me past my limit. I don't know why that's so embarrassing. I'm the only one looking at it. But maybe that's my brain telling me I'm just ashamed of myself and I don't want to own up to my transgressions. There shall be no more of that vicious cycle. Who cares if I eat 1,700 or 2,000 instead of 1,500? At least God blessed me with food. The next day, I'll start over again.

-I must complete at least 30 minutes of exercise every single day. This should include walking, Leslie Sansone workouts (I love that crazy lady and I'm not ashamed), light weight training, boxing, and any other type of moderate physical activity I can muster. I have another bad habit of completing a really great workout one night, then cutting myself some slack in the days afterward because I already exercised. Once a week is enough, right? Wrong.

-If I do snack late at night, I must make sure it's healthy food, not full meals or leftovers or junk. At this point, I don't think Chris's work schedule and my frustratingly relentless appetite can handle the "no food after 9 p.m." rule. However, if I change what I'm eating at night, at least that will ensure that I'm not filling my stomach with crap. If I really can't shake the late night cravings, I'll stick to healthier foods like veggies, fruits, or whole grain crackers, and I'll have to practice strict portion control. I don't think it's hunger so much as wanting something to munch on that makes me eat so late, but at least I can try to control what it is I'm consuming.

-I must limit myself to 3 alcoholic drinks a week. I don't really know how much alcohol I usually drink in a week, and I don't know how I came up with a cut-off of three. It just seemed appropriate. What I do know is that alcohol has a ton of calories, and it's way too easy to destroy my healthy eating and dieting during the day if end every night relaxing on the couch with a couple of beers. I also think that I still probably drink too much in one week than I should. I don't have the same habits I did in college and I don't believe I have a problem with alcohol at all, but it's never a bad idea to cut down on something that has proven negative effects on your health.

Consequences of not meeting these daily goals:


-I have to own up to it on my blog. That's right, trusty readers. I'm going to try to write one post every day from now on, and if I'm too lazy to get my butt off the couch or I go to town on a package of Oreos, you're going to know about it. You're welcome in advance for the cheap entertainment.


-I have to weigh myself. (After I buy a scale, of course.) Some of you may be concerned that this is an unhealthy way for me to view my weight or my body, and I can't necessarily disagree with you. The fact of the matter is that I don't really know my exact weight because I hate looking at the number. But I can't track my progress if I never step on the scale, so I'll eventually have to do it anyway. On days when I overeat, neglect physical activity, or just feel plain discouraged, weighing myself won't just be my punishment, though. It will be a reminder of why I started this journey in the first place. Knowing my weight can provide me the motivation to keep going, especially if each time I see those numbers, they're gradually getting smaller.

Whew. Sorry this post was so long guys. I know sticking to these goals won't be easy, but hopefully I have a few tricks up my sleeve to help me out. For instance, since I usually blog later at night, I want to start documenting what I ate during the day on each post. Then I can reflect on the nutrition I'm putting into my body, and maybe even share a few recipes with you guys. As I keep telling myself, I know this process won't be easy. I just hope it's worth it.

And now to end the night, I'll leave you with this adorable kitten getting ready to take a snooze.

I'm stuffed, but it was so worth it

I have just the greatest friends!

A few weeks ago, two of my closest friends and I decided to try to meet up once a month to cook new, interesting and relatively healthy recipes together. Tonight was the first night, and I'm pretty sure after this we won't have trouble making this a regular event.

Tonight's menu included curry carrot soup, ground turkey and cabbage stir fry with walnuts, reduced fat spinach and artichoke dip (that didn't taste low fat all) and angel food cake with blackberry sauce. All of it was homemade. All of it was delicious. I'm still so full I'm almost miserable, but I don't even care.

Look at all that orange goodness. Picture courtesy of Seanna Daise.

Listen, I'm realistic -- I know I definitely didn't eat healthy or save any calories tonight. We were so excited to try new foods that we just made and ate way too much. However, it was kind of eye-opening for me to see how easy it is to experiment with healthy food and still make it taste unhealthy (a.k.a. delicious).

The soup, for instance, was silky and spicy and decadent, but it only had five or six ingredients (all of which I already had in my pantry) and took about 30 minutes from start to finish. So simple an elementary school kid could probably do it. Plus, we were literally eating a bowl of vegetables. I bet it averaged three or four whole carrots per person.

All in all, tonight was really fun and I look forward to doing it again. Eventually, I think these cooking nights will turn into all three of us being accountable to each other and helping find wholesome meals that are easy to make even on busy nights. I hope so, anyway. If nothing else, at least it's fun to share a bottle of wine (or two, or five) while catching up with old friends. No matter how I look or feel about myself, it's great to know I'm surrounded by people who care. And at the end of the day, that's all I really need.

Hundred Dollar Baby

Hey guys, guess what?

I'm gonna be gettin' my sweat on. I got a heavy bag for Christmas after trying out a workout class that I loved but couldn't afford, and I am SO EXCITED to finally start using it! I get to punch out my anxieties and frustrations AND burn calories at the same time! If that isn't the meaning of Christmas, I don't know what is. (Kidding.)

Huge thanks to my awesome parents who bought it, installed it, and then fed me dinner afterwards! It came with some lightweight practice gloves, but I'm wondering if I should get a heavy duty set of gloves to wear before I try it out so that I don't break all my fingers on the first punch. Tips from any boxers out there? Although I doubt anyone reading this blog is a real boxer. Anyway ... yay! Have I told you I'm excited yet?

That's all for tonight. If anyone ever has a bad day they need to get out of their system, just let me know and I'll set you up on a date with my punching bag :)

(For those of you wondering: yes, I did get the title of this post from the episode of It's Always Sunny where Dee and Charlie take steroids. Classic.)

We're dirty.

I just want to take a little moment to brag about myself and my husband right now.

I'll preface this post by saying that Chris and I are, admittedly, slobs. As much as we appreciate the value of a clean, organized home and we want to be neat, we let things get out of hand very quickly. This inevitably leads to a lot of petty bickering and finger pointing whenever one of us gets frustrated with the other's sloppy habits.

We've made and broken promises many times before about cleaning, vowing to change our ways after each fight, without any lasting results. But tonight ... tonight was different.

I came home and cooked dinner (a.k.a. pulled meat and vegetables out of a slow cooker and put it on a plate), then we ate it while we watched some Netfix. A typical night. But when we were done, I had this sudden urge to clean up before we binge watched the fourth season of Family Guy. Instead of leaving the dishes until morning, we loaded the dishwasher and put away the leftovers.

Then, we kept going.

Chris scrubbed down the counter and started rearranging the small appliances. I folded two weeks worth of clean laundry that had been sitting around the room in baskets. About 30 minutes later, we stopped to look around and realized, 'Huh. This looks WAY better than it did before. We should have just done this from the beginning.'

Dear God, please let this energy carry over into the rest of the week ... or our lives. I could finally catch up on other things I've been neglecting, like the toilet bowl and the carpets full of dog hair! (Too far? Sorry.) I plan on tackling the bedrooms tomorrow and the bathroom over the weekend.

I know this accomplishment is something that most normal adults have no problem with, but I'm not ashamed to admit that I think we rock right now. Baby steps. Take that, adulthood. Next thing you know I'll be doing my own taxes. (Not.) If we can keep this whole cleaning thing up, who knows what we'll accomplish?! World peace, probably.

(And you want to know the best part? I bet I burned a ton of calories doing it without even trying!)

Facts

In the interest of full disclosure and honesty, I'm going to do something very, very scary. I can't tell you how much I fear I might regret making this decision, but I think it's important to get it out on the table. I'm terrified to push the "Publish" button. But I need to, because I need to change.

Are you ready? Here I go ...

271.

That's the number that was on the scale the last time I stepped on it. I don't weigh myself very often, and after reading that number, you can probably imagine why not. In fact, I probably weigh even more than that now, because 271 was what the scale said several months before the holidays. I don't think I can summon the courage to step on it again until at least April.

Confronting truths about yourself isn't easy and it isn't fun. Over the years, I've had to come to terms with certain things about myself that I'd rather not admit: I procrastinate. I'm hypocritical. I'm silently judgmental. I feign knowledge of topics I know very little about when I'm around certain people to appear smarter. I give people advice without following it myself.

One of the hardest things I've had to accept about myself, though, is my weight. Even though I've seen the numbers and read the facts and looked at the pictures and tried on the clothes, I've never really viewed myself as overweight. Obesity was for other people. Other people had health problems because they were fat. Other people couldn't control themselves when they ate. Other people didn't have enough motivation to get off their butts and exercise. Not me, surely.

This is the most current picture taken of me (that was posted on Facebook, at least):

I know this picture is mostly boobs, but the amount of boobs you see is

pretty much proportionate to the rest of my body. So, it's a lot.

Even today, it's hard for me to look in the mirror and imagine that I look like a 271-pound person. My driver's license says 225 simply because I refused to let the lady at the DMV in on my dirty secret. But unless the scale I used was severely off balance, 271 is the truth I have to face. And really, it's probably best that I acknowledge that number now than continue to deny it. It's almost empowering to type it out.

However, a huge downside to being honest about how much I weigh is the immediate sense of hopelessness I feel about losing weight at all. Hearing weight loss success stories about someone losing 20, 30, 50, 80 pounds is wonderful, but it also makes my endeavors feel inadequate. Even if I were to lose 50 pounds -- a really awesome achievement -- I would barely be under the lie on my driver's license. I would still have so far to go. That hopelessness is what keeps me in the vicious cycle of overeating and sedentary living that has overshadowed me for years.

It doesn't have to be this way, though. I know that whatever hopelessness and inadequacy I feel is temporary, and I have to take it one day and one pound at a time. It's just the journey that's the hardest part. I'll be okay. I have to keep pushing.

Late Nights

How I'm feeling this morning: Ugh. Just ugh.

Yesterday was a good example of why I have a problem with food. No matter how "good" I am for my meals during the day, I always overeat late at night after Chris gets off work. His shifts usually last until 9 or 11 p.m., so he doesn't get to eat dinner until he comes home. I often cook him something, or he'll make something for himself that he wants to share, so I get sucked into the idea that I should join him. This results in a lot of fourth meals or snacking sessions that my body really doesn't need.

Case in point: Last night I had a lovely dinner with my sister around 5:00. We had shrimp over rice and a salad, and I drank juice. It was delicious and filling and healthy. But as the night crept on, my stomach began growling again. I texted Chris telling him that I was craving sushi because my sister had been talking about it earlier in the evening. He comes home from work around 10 with a tray of sushi from Hy-Vee for us to share because he's wonderful and adorable. Then, since we were both craving something sweet, we finished off some brownies I made the other night (because obviously our household needs brownies). THEN, he mentions wanting a salad, and I think, 'Hmm, salads are good for you, I'll have one too!' I was in charge of grating cheese for the salads -- a bad idea, considering how much more cheese went into my mouth instead of in the salad bowls.

By the time I went to bed a little after midnight, I was ashamed at how much I had eaten.

This pattern happens more than I care to admit. A few weeks ago, I reached out to an acquaintance for weight loss inspiration and advice. One thing she told me was to not eat anything in the three hours before bed because it's hard for the body to digest food when it's in sleep mode. I've tried telling myself that I shouldn't eat anything past 9 p.m., even hanging notes on the fridge as a reminder, but it doesn't really help.

The best thing I can think of right now is to count calories. Ugh, just typing it makes me want to crawl in a hole. But if I really want to get serious about losing weight, it has to start with my food intake. I installed the My Fitness Pal app on my phone a few months ago and gradually lost interest in tracking what I ate, but I guess it's high time to start back up again. Stay tuned for how well I manage to stick with that plan. If you've got any advice, let me know!

Getting Started

Well, I've taken the plunge. After years of reading other people's blogs and wondering if I had anything good enough to say to write my own, I've finally done it.

This partly came about because I was recently struggling with a bout of writer's block at work. For those of you that don't know, I'm a lifestyles reporter at a local newspaper. While I really like my job, I've been struggling with feelings of inadequacy. Does what I write matter? Am I doing any good in the world? Is anyone paying any attention? Should I have really become a veterinarian after all?

I've also felt a pull to write about things beyond the scope of my job description. I get paid to write -- literally any English or Communication major's dream -- but lately I feel like I haven't been able to write about what's really on my mind and what's important to me. It's impossible for me to keep a journal and I never do any creative writing for fun, so I figured a blog was an appropriate way to start resolving these issues.

This blog also sprang from my attempt at really, truly, finally losing weight.

I've struggled with weight my whole life. After some awkward adolescent years and a bit of soul searching, I reached a point where I finally accepted my body and my beauty in a healthy way once I hit college. However, I know that having a healthy body image isn't the same as actually being healthy. Once Chris and I got married, my weight issues only got worse. I no longer can fit into most of the clothes that used to be big on me. It's disheartening, for sure. Year after year, I've told myself that I need to start making changes to my diet and activity level. You can imagine how those results panned out.

But if I document my weight loss journey in a blog, it will hold me accountable to both my readers and myself. I will have to own up to and take responsibility for my actions. I'll write down what I eat, how much I exercise, and how I'm feeling. I'll post pictures and be honest about what the scale says (Lord help me). If I have a really great week where I exercise a little bit every day, I can share it with you. If I have a bad day where I eat well until about 9 p.m., when I go into late night snack mode, I'll have to face it the next day instead of hiding it.

Ultimately, I hope this blog serves as a journal, a creative and emotional release, an inspiration to others, and a forum where I can finally use the Oxford comma again. But if all that comes out of it are a few laughs whenever I manage to be snarky or clever, I guess that's okay, too.

Thank you for joining me in this experiment. Here we go!