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Almost Fat & Trying to Get Fit

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I used to be one of those skinny bitches that could get away with eating and drinking like a man twice my age and twice my size without exercising. But my poor treatment of my body caught up to me, and eventually the metabolism that let me devour one and a half large pizzas in one sitting and maintain my slender build gave out on me. I think I finally started realizing that I was getting fat over Christmas break, when I couldn’t fit half of the clothes I’d packed for my cruise to the Caribbean. It sucked. A zipper actually broke. I cried.

 But despite the fact that I was very clearly gaining weight, I did very little in attempt to change. All summer, old people that are probably five years shy of a nursing home were commenting on my weight as if I hadn’t noticed that I had grown two dress sizes since last summer. I was hanging out with one of my friends a few weeks ago, getting drinks after work, and she was vey frank with me. “You’re like, 10 pounds away from being fat.” And I’m so glad she said it, because she was absolutely right. I believe that beauty comes in all shapes and sizes, and I know that different bodies have different limits and different capacities, but there’s nothing admirable about letting yourself go. There’s nothing beautiful about mediocrity. And that was my turning point.

I’ve decided that if I’m ever going to actually get to a place where I’m truly happy with my body, I have to get serious. Being a better version of yourself in anyway- not just physically; this can be in terms of organization, finances, career, etc- comes down to discipline and determination. You have to tell yourself that you’re going to do whatever it takes to get where you want to be and actually mean it. “Get skinny fast” or “get rich quick” schemes never work because the only way you ever build anything of value that will stand the test of time is through persistent, concentrated effort.

My biggest weakness is my love for food deep fried and oozing with grease. So for thirty days, I’m giving up all the food that makes me happy. No pizza, no pizza rolls, no hot dogs, no burgers, no fries, no steak & cheeses. And while I’m not cutting out booze completely, I’m only drinking clear alcohol, organic smoothies and water.

I’m doing this to prove to myself that I can change my eating habits, and to help myself transition into healthier eating. After the month is up, I’ll allow myself one or two cheat meals per week.

I know it’s going to be tough but I’m hoping for the best.

I used to be one of those skinny bitches that could get away with eating and drinking like a man twice my age and twice my size without exercising. But my poor treatment of my body caught up to me, and eventually the metabolism that let me devour one and a half large pizzas in one sitting and maintain my slender build gave out on me. I think I finally started realizing that I was getting fat over Christmas break, when I couldn’t fit half of the clothes I’d packed for my cruise to the Caribbean. It sucked. A zipper actually broke. I cried.

 But despite the fact that I was very clearly gaining weight, I did very little in attempt to change. All summer, old people that are probably five years shy of a nursing home were commenting on my weight as if I hadn’t noticed that I had grown two dress sizes since last summer. I was hanging out with one of my friends a few weeks ago, getting drinks after work, and she was vey frank with me. “You’re like, 10 pounds away from being fat.” And I’m so glad she said it, because she was absolutely right. I believe that beauty comes in all shapes and sizes, and I know that different bodies have different limits and different capacities, but there’s nothing admirable about letting yourself go. There’s nothing beautiful about mediocrity. And that was my turning point.

I’ve decided that if I’m ever going to actually get to a place where I’m truly happy with my body, I have to get serious. Being a better version of yourself in anyway- not just physically; this can be in terms of organization, finances, career, etc- comes down to discipline and determination. You have to tell yourself that you’re going to do whatever it takes to get where you want to be and actually mean it. “Get skinny fast” or “get rich quick” schemes never work because the only way you ever build anything of value that will stand the test of time is through persistent, concentrated effort.

My biggest weakness is my love for food deep fried and oozing with grease. So for thirty days, I’m giving up all the food that makes me happy. No pizza, no pizza rolls, no hot dogs, no burgers, no fries, no steak & cheeses. And while I’m not cutting out booze completely, I’m only drinking clear alcohol, organic smoothies and water.

I’m doing this to prove to myself that I can change my eating habits, and to help myself transition into healthier eating. After the month is up, I’ll allow myself one or two cheat meals per week.

I know it’s going to be tough but I’m hoping for the best.

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Fast forward 24 years, and a really good friend of mine got pregnant at the same age my mom did, and I assumed she would keep it. She was in a stable relationship and even told me she wanted to start a family soon. And according to almost every conversation we’d ever had on the subject, she was pro life too. But she was panicking, and almost overnight her entire perspective changed. Ironically enough, just days before I attended my first March for Life, a good friend of mine got an abortion.

And I won’t lie; I was disappointed. Because like most abortions, it wasn’t the result of some freak accident of properly used but failed birth control. She was being careless. And while I did my best to make the case for keeping it without pressuring her, I completely understood her decision and didn’t judge her for a minute. Because what my friend needed more than opinions or condemnation was my support.

I am pro life, and I always have been. My views didn’t change, but my attitude did. I realized that week, after taking frantic phone call after frantic phone call, that life happens in a lot of different directions. Life happening for my mom meant a child at 24 and dropping out of law school. Life happening for my friend meant an abortion. And part of being pro life — for me at least — is being there for people in your life even when it challenges you.
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