Wednesday, October 30, 2013

Fat Pants and Drunken Sorority Girl Brawls.


I am in a rut. I am not sure if it’s actually a rut if you are in the same “rut” for 6+ months… It might have been upgraded to a habit or lifestyle. Either way I need to get out of it, I need to refocus but I feel like I just don’t know how anymore. I have no idea how I made a decision last year, stuck with it, and ended up losing 30 pounds. Those Mf’ers are back and I want  need to get rid of them again. Fa Reals, Forever, good bye, adios, get the hell out of here and take my fat pants with you GONE. Saying one thing and making it sound special and pretty its great and all but the question is, can I do it? can I say no? can I push away pies, doughnuts, bean burritos, and pizza? Can I push my needs to the forefront and shove my stomachs wants to the back burner? I know I just need to have faith in myself, push myself, and tell the my stomach, my doubts, and the pizza guy to F*&k OFF! (sorry pizza guy, it’s not your fault. Please don’t spit in my cheat meal)

 

I did it before, I can do it again…right? RIGHT?! Hells yes I can… I think. Shit. I can do it! If Gabrielle Iglesias can say no to a few tacos then so can I!

 

Good Lord, my mind really goes off into a weird place sometimes. I just went back and re-read that sentence. Welcome to the upside down, chaotic, hungry world my brain lives in…

 

Ok so I will do it again! I will keep it off! I will say no! I will not go into the break room when they have doughnuts, and BBQ, and Chick Fila. I will cut down my caffeine! I will start prepping my foods again. If my stomach doesn’t like it then it can get the hell out! I will go to the gym and I won’t leave until I am the crying, sweating , sore, can’t breathe mess of a person. No more wussing out on workouts or leaving early. Me and my body are numero uno (tied for first with my family). No more “easy” meals, it takes just as much time to make a salad and grill some chicken as it does to make egg burritos. I will remember that enjoying restaurants does not revolve entirely around the food but the company. I do not deserve anything, I must work for my cheat meals and days of rest. I don’t need pizza. I do need to run. Working out is a privilege that is denied to many, quit taking it for granted. And when my stomach gets in a drunken sorority girl type brawl with my mind over what I am going to eat I will not let the hair pulling, nail scratching, and screaming deter me from my salad. SO THERE.




Some ramdom motivation for everyone!

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