IT'S THE LAST DAY OF THE YEAR...

This year has been weird. Most of you have been on this ride with me, seeing how it's twisted and turned and suddenly zigged and zagged unexpectedly. It left me feeling run down and ragged just thinking about it.

I've failed a lot this year. I've been challenged on numerous occasions and let those challenges get the best of me a fair amount of times. My sober December lasted about three weeks before I threw in the towel and drank at friends' holiday parties. I took a week off from running and found that getting back into it was even harder than starting the first time. My job ended, and it's left me wondering what to do next.

But, I started this journey for a reason. And that reason hasn't changed. So I'm entering 2016 with a new gym, a new plan, and a new attitude.

(and new workout clothes, thanks V!)

I've decided to leave behind a lot in the year 2015. People I'd rather not be friends with, a crappy relationship, emotional eating, and a diminished sense of self worth. But as I finished up my last work out of the year this afternoon, I realized there was a lot of good in 2015 too. And just because I'm not where I set out to be doesn't lessen those successes. My biggest success has been not giving up. Not matter what this year has thrown at me, I've come back to this journey.

2016 is going to be full of more life changes. Not only with my physical health, but with my emotional wellness. After being unenthused with my gym, I decided to switch things up in the new year and go to a smaller/cleaner/more female friendly gym. As part of my membership they offered a consultation with a personal trainer, which I'm always pretty skeptical about. I've had plenty of trainers (all of whom were great in their own ways) try and work with me, but I've never had any of them really get through to me. Until today. Every single person I've come across in my fitness journey has told me what a struggle it is. How hard it's going to be, but how much it's going to be worth it. The trainer today, after listening to my long story about my relationship with food/exercise/weight, told me this - "It's going to be so easy. It's going to be the easiest thing you've ever done." I laughed at him. How could he possibly think this was going to be easy? Had he not just heard that I had 100 lbs to lose, and I'd lost merely 10 lbs in the seven months since I started? And then he told me his own journey (which was pretty damn similar to mine). He told me that I had all the pieces, that I just needed to put them together and figure out how to make me feel better about doing so. That rehabbing my self esteem and dysmorphia would be his primary goal, and that everything else would come easily. Maybe I'm riding off his optimism, and maybe it'll all come crashing down. But for right now, I'm choosing to believe him. That this will be easy. That I will accomplish my goals, and that somewhere along the way I'll become a better me. A me that I like more.

Here's a list of my goals for 2016 (in no particular order).

1. Work out three times a week.
2. Visit my family more often.
3. Be at my goal weight by Alex's wedding.
    3a. Be the best bridesmaid ever.
    3b. Take more pride in my appearance, regardless of reaching my goal weight.
4. Stretch every day.
5. Make deadlines. Stick to them. Get shit done.
    5a. Strive for losing 2 lbs a week.
    5b. Write a new pilot by March.
6. Make healthy substitutions for unhealthy foods.
7. But still enjoy delicious foods, no matter their nutritional value.
8. Meal prep/plan!
9. Hike Griffith Park.
10. Sing more.
11. Take a dance class.
12. Fix my sleep schedule.
13. Spend time away from my phone.
14. Become financially stable. Get a second job if you have to. Start saving.
15. Go on more adventures.
16. Don't let opportunities pass me by.
17. Be selfish in my decisions.
18. Play fetch with Rory more. She loves it so much.
19. Love myself more.
20. Catch up on Homeland.
21. Take more pictures of myself.
    21a. Smile in pictures.
    21b. Don't be afraid of a full body shot.
    21c. Show off those OOTDs!
22. Sell my novel (or at least get representation for it).
23. Stay positive.
24. Be employed more of the year than unemployed.
25. Ask for help when you need it.
26. Make my bed every morning.
27. Eat more vegetables.
28. Fight the patriarchy.

Tomorrow is a new day, a new year. I'm well on my way to a new life. Wishing all of you an happy and healthy new year, and thank you again for reading/messaging/supporting/loving/sharing/etc. As always...let's keep doing this.

SOBER

Right before Thanksgiving, when I was taking stock of my health and my progress, I made a pretty solid decision. That Thanksgiving would be my last day of drinking alcohol until 2016.

Drinking is pretty much the center of my social life - and I have to assume it's similar for most folks in their 20s and 30s. Friends come over to hang out? Pour some wine. Meet a friend for dinner? Enjoy a drink with your meal. Out of the house at night? Probably at a bar...and you guessed it...drinking. The problem with this is that I really really really hate being alone. I'd prefer to have someone around, even just to watch TV with, than to do it solo. And because of that, I've been consuming way too many empty calories in liquid form.

So, last night, when I asked my friend if she wanted to come over and watch TV (as I'm want to do), our exchange went something like this:

Me: Come over and watch TV.
Her: Are you not drinking?
Me: Yup!
Her: I want to come over, but also wanted a drink...so...
Me: You can have a drink here! I'll drink tea.
Her: Cool.

This exchange may seem trivial or bizarre, but...I'm actually incredibly proud of myself for it. In times past where I'd say I wasn't going to drink for a given amount of time, I'd usually break pretty quickly because my friends still wanted to drink. I'd say I wasn't going to partake, but inevitably I would. This was the first time I can really remember sticking to it.

It's a silly accomplishment, but this morning when I woke up and saw the half empty bottle of wine in my kitchen, I was reminded that I made a choice and I stuck to it. And that's something to be proud of. And now, by telling all of you, I'm holding myself truly accountable. No turning back now.

I also held myself accountable for my second run tonight. When the day is shitty and terrible things happen in the world (like today), sometimes getting outside is the only way I can make sense of things. I'm not going to get into a gun control rant on here because that's not what this blog is for or about, so I'll keep this entry short.

Thanks to everyone for your support. As always, let's keep doing this.

RUNNING

Today I did something I've been wanting to do for a really long time, but never thought I'd be able to. I went for a run.

Well, kind of.

At my current weight (well, at any weight honestly), running is pretty damn hard. It's a full body activity that requires a lot of stamina and endurance. Neither of which I have. Soooo...I signed up for a program called Couch to 5K, which does exactly what it sounds like. It takes a non runner (who spends a whole lot of time on the couch) and trains them in small increments until they're able to run a 5k (just over three miles).

I downloaded the app a few weeks ago, but tonight was the first night I really went for it. After being sidelined for the weekend with a knock out cold, I was feeling restless and excited about doing something challenging. The other night, I was telling my friend about how I wanted to start it, but I was nervous and feeling slightly unable, when miraculously, someone overheard us (we were in the women's bathroom at a birthday party) and chimed in that she had started the program a year ago and had just signed up for her first half marathon. She said both she and her friend had done it together, and her friend had lost 117 lbs and counting. I took that as a sign. That out of all people to chime also be using the bathroom at that particular moment, this girl knew someone who'd lost over 100 lbs doing the program I was contemplating doing.

So, tonight, after being a chicken all day and putting it off until the sun was setting - I went to the Silverlake Loop I walk almost every day, constantly admiring the super in shape runners, and...I pressed go on my app. It was remarkably more doable than I thought it would be. Jogging for one minute, then walking for a minute and a half. On and off for 30 mins. There was never a point I thought I couldn't make it anymore. In fact, the only thing that really slowed me down was Rory. Turns out she's not much of a runner (and she's now exhausted...look at this tired puppy).

Mom, I can't believe you thought I could run.
I hate you. Let me sleep forever now.

But beside Rory's glacial pace (to be fair she does have incredibly stubby legs), I found myself feeling invigorated. Turns out...I really really like running. I say this now, on my first day, I know. But. Part of me was prepared to try it out, hate it, and give it up immediately. And I'm relieved and grateful that it's something I want to continue with. And not just because at the end of each work out it gives me a congratulations screen with a trophy (although it's pretty awesome).

This is my first post-run face. Isn't it pretty?

In all seriousness. I'm excited to see where this goes. Finding a new activity I enjoy has seemed fruitless since I stopped going to the gym, and maybe I'm just filled with endorphins and on a running high, but...I'm hopeful that one day I'll be running the entire loop comfortably with all the other runners and feeling like I belong.

Happy Monday, y'all. And let's keep doing this.

DAY IDK AND NOT KEEP TRACK ANYMORE (AND NOT JUST BECAUSE IT'S THANKSGIVING)

Happy Thanksgiving, folks. It seems like a strange day to jump back into healthy eating (especially considering Seth Cohen is pretty much my Thanksgiving twin):

But...I'm back to drop some much needed realness on myself. Because I can't avoid taking care of myself any longer.

It's been just over three months since I last checked in, and I'm feeling pretty bad about it. I just reread my last post, which was so filled with energy and excitement, and I'm sad to admit that didn't really translate to how the last few months played out. It seems that work and exercise couldn't really co-exist for me, and I put all my energy into making myself the best employee and writer I could possibly be instead of splitting the difference. My job ended last week, and the first thing I did was weigh myself to see how much I'd lost progress.

In my time away from working out, I gained back 5 lbs. Bringing myself back to a whopping...

Honestly, it could be worse. I'm still 10 lbs down from where I started. But my head isn't even close to where it should be. Yesterday, I received an invitation to join my dad for Thanksgiving. For those of you who don't know, I haven't spoken to my dad in two and a half years. I don't even call him my dad, and typing it now feels unnatural.

We've always had a bit of a tenuous relationship, mostly because he can't stop himself from commenting on my weight at all times, but things came to a head when he sent me an email saying that he was so glad he'd seen me (we ran into each other on the streets of Santa Monica), but he was horrified by how much weight I'd gained. At that time, I'd gained about 30 lbs from my lowest weight. He said I'd never go anywhere or make anything of myself if I didn't lose weight. That was the reason I hadn't been promoted or been staffed. Because the way I looked was holding me back from professional opportunities. I was crushed. I knew I'd gained weight. I was going through some serious emotional things, and had eaten my weight and then some in Bossa Nova pasta and garlic bread, and was finally getting to a place where I was able to start thinking about losing that weight. But that email changed things. Even though he had NO idea what was going on in my life, he tapped into something I really felt to be true about myself. That I was destined to be fat and to be a failure, and that somehow those two things were correlated.

Fast forward to yesterday when I received that Thanksgiving invite, my first thought was, I can't go to that because I can't let my dad see me like this. That he was right.

But the truth is...he couldn't be further from right. He is wrong wrong WRONG. And I think on some level, I've resisted losing weight and 100% taking care of myself because I don't want him to win. There's a tiny part of my brain that feels like with every pound I lose, I'm feeding into his ridiculous notion that I can't be both overweight and successful. But that is his truth. And not mine.

On my last day of work, my boss congratulated me on bringing my A+ game to work this season and offered me a pretty stellar opportunity should we get picked up for another (so everyone who isn't watching Faking It on MTV, you should be and it's all on Hulu so watch it, tweet about it, and all that jazz). And I did all that at my current weight that I abhor so deeply. So, take that, Jim Lewis.

And, in the spirit of Thanksgiving... I am thankful for my body. At any weight. And I'm thankful for everyone's support with my continued journey. I'm taking it back. Because I have a lot more that I need to do, and I can't do it if I'm constantly at war with my body. This will be the last time I weigh myself. Because it can't be about that anymore. My goals are now going to be not weight related, but about truly taking care of myself. About eating well and moving around and getting my heart rate up and feeling the same excitement I felt three months ago. And I'm thankful for my renewed motivation.

Soooo, Happy Thanksgiving!!! From this happy home to yours.As always, let's keep doing this.

DAYS 94-123

Something weird happened yesterday. For the first time in my life I woke up before my alarm and did not try and fall back asleep. My eyes snapped open at 8am, and I was positively giddy and ready to tackle the day. I rolled over and looked at Rory and in my very silliest voice I said, "Ah, happiness, I remember you!"

For those of you who have had the privilege of living with me or having me over or really just even seeing me in the morning, you know that this is WEIRD. Super duper weird. I'm neither a morning person nor a night person. I'm what my sister used to call, "a sleep person." If I can push an extra three minutes of sleep, I will do it. But not yesterday. Nope. I was awake and ready to tackle the day.

You might be thinking to yourself, what the HELL happened to Charlotte the past month? She disappeared a mopey mess and reemerges as a shining happy person? Did she get lobotomized? What's the deal?

Well. The abridged version is this. In the past month...I did a full Buffy/Angel rewatch (I mean, kind of...I basically watched the first three seasons of Buffy and then just followed Angel to his own series and am now finally coming back to Buffy season four, but whatever), I packed up my apartment, I got rid of my ex's stuff, I moved into a three bedroom apartment with three new roommates and two cats, I unpacked, and then finally this week I went back to work.

But I guess this new revved up version of me really came to fruition this past Sunday. I attended a pool party where everyone around me was so incredibly supportive of the changes I've made, I couldn't believe it. They offered me love and hugs and wanted to participate in my journey. It gave me the confidence to recognize the success in losing 15lbs, no matter how long it takes. And it also pushed me to make more goals for myself. One of my friends is also in the process of getting fit, and he told me that the key to his success was finding what kind of goals inspired him and motivated him. He admitted he found the most success when he found a nemesis to compete with. It sounded ridiculous to me, but as he explained, I totally understood. He's a bit of a gamer, and so to him it made sense to "play" against an opponent. He now has beaten his time for a 5k and is working on what his next goal should be.

I took this model and just sort of ran with it. After all, I knew I was going to be forming a new routine for the foreseeable future, and I wanted that to include fitness. So, Monday morning I weighed myself and was surprised to see I was still at 245 lbs. I had neither lost nor gained any weight in my month off from prioritizing my fitness, which is totally fine. It's the perfect baseline to keep on keeping on.

The first part of settling into my routine was finding my closest grocery stores and stocking up on healthy foods. Success.

Then, I tried out the gyms in my new 'hood. Not so much a success. After trying the two gyms closest to my new place, I decided I needed to find something out of the gym to do. Luckily, I live pretty close to the Silverlake Reservoir, and there's a 2.5 mile loop around it. After coming home from my first day of work, I changed into my work out clothes, grabbed Rory and tried it out. And it was amazing.

Guys. GUYS. This is where I walked. At sunset. I live in this place! This is not my picture because the one I took did not look nearly as majestic or beautiful, but the way I feel looking at this picture right now is how I felt when I was walking around the reservoir. It took us about 45 minutes to walk the path, but afterwards I felt so great and Rory felt so great, I knew that it was the right decision. Now, I'm starting a habit of walking the reservoir loop every night when I come home. That will accrue to about 12 miles a week! Which is pretty significant. Plus, after sitting on my computer all day, walking around feels amazing. And Rory doesn't hate it either.

I figure I'll start with that. Right now I just want to work to enforce positive healthy habits, and this is a really good starting place. Eventually, I plan on doubling up my loop, going up to walking 25 miles a week. But for now, this is good.

I feel. SO. GOOD.

I'm excited to be back in this place and am ready to combat anything. As always. Let's keep doing this.

DAYS 79-93

Well, it's been another two weeks since I took pen to paper, and I have to admit...I'm embarrassed about it. The last time I checked in, I was convinced my wallowing was over, and I'd signed up for Class Pass and felt ready to tackle my goals.

Except, my brain and body didn't agree on that. After signing up for my first class, I was nervous but excited. I was going to try out a pilates class - something I had wanted to try for YEARS. Now was my time! But when it came time to actually go to the class, anxiety took over. I was short of breath with sharp chest pains, and an overwhelming sense of nausea set in. I tried to breathe through the panic. I used all my best tricks - counting down from 100, my slow belly breathing, and (my personal favorite) telling Rory what's happening. Nothing seemed to work. Even when I was able to catch my breath, the nausea intensified. I didn't know what to do. Thinking I wasn't up for pilates in the near future, I canceled my class and the panic IMMEDIATELY subsided. 

I spent the rest of the night sulking.

The next day, I had planned to go to a Spinning class with my friend who is obsessed with the studio I'd booked. She was jazzed, and I was too! Spin sounded like a ball. I already loved the stationary bike. But add a room with some motivational leaders and some fun music, it sounded right up my alley. Of course, an hour before the class, though, my dreaded panic set in again. Determined not to let my friend down, I made it to the studio. I asked the teacher to help me set up my bike (because apparently that's a huge ordeal), I put on my spin shoes and I was ready to go!

What I realized over the course of that class, though, is that I was NOT ready to go. Oh my god, was I out of my league or what. What I hadn't realized about spin is that there's not much sitting on your stationary bike, and my body just wasn't strong enough to hold myself up like that yet. My knees ached from standing, and when I took a few minutes to sit, the seat immediately dug into my butt (pretty sure I'm still bruised down there). There were times when the class felt so long that I didn't know if I was going to make it through. All the joints and muscles in my body revolted, despite everyone around me looking like they were having the time of their life. By the end of the hour, my body was drenched in sweat - literally every surface of my body was sweating (including the backs of my hands which I legitimately didn't know COULD sweat). And I felt defeated. I had been working out for nearly three months, and I felt like I had nothing to show for it. I was still REALLY out of shape.

I will say that in the hour following spin, my endorphins reached such an all time high that I thought the whole thing might be like giving childbirth, that I'd magically forget the torture of the class and only remember the resulting high. But...alas, I don't have spin amnesia, and I don't think I'll be ready to take another stab at it any time soon.

In fact, since the disaster of the spin class, I've been too intimidated and upset to try another class. And that really bums me out. I feel a little defeated, to be honest. Every time I try and make myself work out, I make a slew of excuses about what I could be doing instead. Which has resulted in a solid week and a half of me rewatching all of Gilmore Girls on Netflix and not much else. 

Ultimately, I'm giving myself a break. That doesn't mean I'm going to continue being a lump on my couch for whatever show comes after my Gilmore Girls rewatch, but it does mean I'm not going to shame myself for doing what I need to do. The next few weeks are going to be a time of immense change for me. I'm going to be leaving my first solo grownup apartment and move back into a roommate situation. I'm going to leave behind West Hollywood, which has been my neighborhood for the past six years. I'm going to sell or get rid of a lot of my stuff that I've accumulated and start fresh. And I'm going to hopefully find a part time job I can stay with for the foreseeable future to supplement my writers' assistant income and be able to not stress about paying my bills. I mean, that's a LOT of stuff to do. For anyone, much less someone who's going through their first real breakup. 

But, holding myself accountable and recognizing my feelings is the first step to getting back on track. I figure that if I keep telling myself I'm going to do this that I'll be able to Secret it into existence (that's how that works, right?). Since acknowledging my lack of interest in exercising right now, I've started taking long walks. Just around the block, nothing high impact. But something to get me out of my apartment and on my feet. I'm hoping that I'll be able to push myself back into a regular exercise routine sooner rather than later, but I'm not beating myself up about it either. Mostly because I know I'm not giving up.

A few months ago, if I'd encountered something like this, I would have been off exercise for the long haul, completely uninterested in maintaining my healthy eating, but I know I have to do this. So....that's what I'm going to do. 

DAYS 71-78

I have a confession: I'm not as positive as I try to be on here. Despite my best efforts, this week was actually extremely rough. It culminated in my ex moving out of the apartment, and despite it being the best for both of us, I let myself feel the sadness that was dying to break through for the past few weeks. Though I tried to keep a smile on my face and maintain my workout schedule (1 exercise DVD and two days hiking accomplished), there were days where I did little more than walk the dog and watch TV (unless crying counts as a full body workout, which...I'm inclined to believe it does). The truth is, sometimes it's incredibly hard to stay upbeat, especially in the wake of a major life change like a breakup. And sometimes you just need to take some time to wallow. So, I did.

This is my wallowing face.

That said, after a full day of wallowing yesterday (and today, honestly), I'm ready to get back to it. The month of July is completely open, and ready for me to take some positive action.

First on the list was to weigh myself, because I totally forgot to do it on Saturday with all my wallowing. I was pleasantly surprised to see that I passed the 15 lbs lost mark (barely, but still!).

Next was to get on top of my meal plan. Because I know I'm more likely to emotionally eat if I'm not prepared, I wanted to make sure everything was taken care of. The past few days I went "off book" more than once - I ordered a cheeseburger out with a friend who was in town one night and got soda at the movies the next. Obviously it wasn't the best, but I'm not beating myself up about it either. The cycle of guilt I used to be so familiar with only produces more guilt and more eating unhealthy foods. Instead, I've crafted a brand new plan which focuses on clean whole foods, heavy in protein and produce. My days now consist of three meals and two snacks that add up to approx. 1500 calories. A few people have asked what that looks like, so I decided I would share a sample day from my meal plan.

DAY 1
Breakfast (305 cals). 7 mini chicken apple sausages, 1/4 avocado, 3 egg whites, and 1/2 pink grapefruit.

Snack #1 (100 cals). Handful of raw almonds.

Lunch (305 cals). 1 multigrain wrap/flatbread, 4 oz low sodium turkey, 2 tbs hummus, drizzle of balsamic vinegar, and 1 persian cucumber.

Snack #2 (180 cals). 6 oz. plain nonfat greek yogurt, and a banana.

Dinner (450 cals). 6 oz. baked chicken breast, mixed green veggies (brussels sprouts, kale, and broccoli) with maple tahini dressing and toasted nuts.

Dessert (150 cals). 2 cups strawberries.

All in all, it comes out to about 40% proteins, 30% carbs, and 30% fats. And it's all super delicious! I'm extremely excited to try my new vegetable recipes (thanks to many of you who sent me your faves).

After getting my food situation sorted, I knew I needed to figure out something new with my exercise plan. While I adore hiking, the summer weather hit me like a scorching ball of sweat soaked exhaustion last week. I thought hiking was going to be my go to plan because I've lost my passion for going to the gym and lifting weights. It's something I've always had a knack for, and lifting makes me feel strong and powerful. However, in the past year and a half, it's become something my ex and I did together. And attempting to go to the gym without him has proven more challenging than I originally anticipated.

So today, instead of going to the gym, bought myself a subscription to ClassPass. ClassPass is amazing, and I've always wanted to do it. But it's fairly expensive - one monthly fee to go to as many exercise classes from a (very lengthy) list of local studios. While I was working it seemed like I'd only utilize the classes during the weekends, which didn't really seem worth it, but now with my schedule completely open and nothing to do but hang out in my empty apartment, it seemed like a really good idea to book four classes a week and at least have appointments booked. As I browsed the site, I realized how many classes I'd wanted to try out, too. Cardio Barre, CycleHouse, CorePower Yoga, Pilates, Ballet Beautiful...the list goes on. I spent the afternoon figuring out which classes I wanted to try first and booking them. I'm excited to try so many new workouts, and possibly meet new people in classes.

I'm also terrified. I've made a lot of changes in my life extremely quickly, and it feels like a bit of a whirlwind. I'm incredibly thankful for all the support I've received and honestly don't know if I could do this without all of you. Because of your feedback I'm more motivated than ever to continue, and I'm inspired by the way my own journey has motivated all of you. As always, let's keep doing this!

DAYS 63-70

As I sit in front of my computer, I wonder how I let another week go by without venting my feelings somewhere. I know that one of my biggest flaws is ignoring my problems and hoping they'll somehow disappear if I don't shine a light on them, but you'd think after saying the exact same thing a week ago, I would have at least put in a concerted effort to focus on tackling some of my problems head on and discussing them here.

Unfortunately, I didn't.

This week didn't feel like a success. I felt bad about my appearance more days than not, I compared myself to others who have gone way further in their journey than me, I slept poorly, and I let my anxiety get out of hand. On top of that, I found myself out of a job again, searching for a new place to live, a new roommate, and a temporary source of income until Faking It returns in August. I felt lost and hopeless and wanted to cover my head and cry until the week ended. But I remembered my lame attempts at exercising from the prior week and was determined on pushing myself back into my exercise schedule. Just to get me out of the apartment and doing something, if nothing else.

I'm proud to say that I worked out four times last week. Though my original work out goal was to exercise five times a week, I found that I was far too tired and sore to put in as much effort into my workouts on that schedule, so I reduced it to four. Weight training twice a week and cardio twice a week. On Monday, I pushed myself in my leg workout, doing squats and deadlifts with an increased weight of 65lbs (up from 45). I incorporated wall sits and finished off with an ab work out that I felt for the rest of the week. Tuesday I did my standard hour of cardio (I've been really into the stationary bicycle recently). Wednesday was my day off. Thursday was upper body and abs at the gym again, and then Friday I rounded out my week with a relatively easy hike at Fryman Canyon with the puppy and my friend Maddy (check out this view!)

My hiking time with Maddy was something that I desperately needed and was insanely grateful for. She and her boyfriend are somewhat responsible for bringing together me and my ex, and it was nice to be able to have her love and support in everything. In fact, we had so much to talk about that after our hike, we were still not done catching up, so we went to Lemonade for lunch (an LA based health food chain). We talked about how much we loved eating there because of the amazing selection of vegetables in different fun flavor profiles. And though vegetables are obviously a large part of my meal plan, after eating 3/4 plate of delicious veggies, I resolved to cook more vegetables in more ways. If anyone has any favorite vegetable side recipes, I would absolutely love them!

As I embark upon the new month, I've decided to create some new health goals for myself. Mostly because I have nothing but time at the moment, and I need to figure out how to stay on track with too much time for my mind to wander.

• First, I'm going to be redoing my meal plan. After two months on my sister's, I'm ready for some new recipes! My new meal plan will be focused on incorporating more vegetables (as I said earlier), and eating more cleanly. This means whole foods and nothing with ingredients I can't pronounce.

• Second, I'm going to start trying out new workouts at least once a week. I enjoy going to the gym and weight lifting, but it's begun to feel like a chore and not something exciting. I want to try classes (see what BodyPump or pilates is all about). As soon as I hit my 20lb goal, I'm going to sign up for dance classes. Something I miss immensely. 

• Third, I'm going to follow through on weighing myself every Saturday, no matter what. I don't care how long it takes for the number to keep going down, I just want to write it down and record it each week. The same goes for taking monthly pictures. The 14th of every month, there will be a picture.

• Fourth, I'm going to clean out my closet. It's stuffed to the gils with clothes that neither fit me, nor are in style anymore. I have clothes from college and right after college. And even when I start fitting into them again, I shouldn't be wearing them! I'm going to be 28 this October, not 22. Plus, if I'm going to be moving soon (which, I am, I can't afford to stay in my apartment without another person and I don't know anyone who wants to share my 1BR with me), why would I want to travel with excess weight? Be gone, old clothes.

• Last, but certainly not least, I'm going to start having more fun. I'm going to smile more often. I'm going to make delicious new healthy recipes. I'm going to dance around my apartment. I'm going to love my workouts. I'm going to catch up on TV seasons I've been meaning to watch. I'm going to wear cute outfits. I'm going to do my hair. I'm going love myself more.

I know this is all up to me, and I know I can do it, no matter what mental road blocks obstruct the way. As always, let's keep doing this.

DAYS 54-62

I have written and rewritten this post so many times over the past week, but seeing as it's now over a week from my last post, I decided it was time to do it. I have a bad habit of shutting down and avoiding problems when I don't want to deal with them. You'd think I'd have learned to be better about it by now, but I'm not. When I started this, I promised full transparency regarding my eating and exercise habits, but I didn't anticipate that it would also force me to be honest with my emotions. But today marks 2 months on this journey, and I knew I had to write something. Anything. So, here it is.

After coming home from an amazing trip in San Fransisco (two days of which I didn't even write about but will summarize by saying I wish I could go back immediately), I was forced to deal with a major life change: the end of my year and a half long relationship with my live in boyfriend. I'm not going to discuss the why or the how because that's not really relevant to anything, and as much as I'd love to air my feelings out through my writing, that's not particularly fair to the other party involved. But what I will admit is how hard it's been.

Our fitness schedules had been synched up, and to realize that it might not be the best idea to continue going to the gym together gave me an excuse not to stick to my exercise plan. On Monday I did a medium intensity cardio session on the stationary bike in my apartment complex gym (aka, three machines in the basement). On Tuesday it rained and I gave myself the day off. Wednesday I forced myself to do the hike I'd originally planned for the day before, and after being bed bound with food poisoning on Thursday, I allowed myself to take the rest of the week off.

Deep inside, I knew my excuses weren't super valid. On Tuesday instead of my hike I could have easily gone to the gym instead. And instead of hanging out at home like a lump on a log or trying to distract myself, I could have put my frustration and energy into my work outs. But I didn't. Instead, I hid. This was also made more difficult by a slight change in my work schedule. While I was in San Fransisco, the woman I was working for underwent some medical emergency and told me she needed to hire an RN for full time care, only to come back four days later and ask if I could work full time again. I had resigned myself to the fact that it was a sign, and maybe I was meant to focus on my health this summer right before she asked for me back, and it felt a bit like whiplash. With my emotions already all over the place, I wished for consistency, so I said yes to full time again. But now I'm having my original doubts all over again. Will I have enough time to exercise? What about food prep?

I will say that I have remained on my food plan this week. With one notable exception. I was actually pretty proud of myself. I stayed within my calorie count, I didn't overindulge in sad breakup food. The most I did was to order Thai food on Wednesday night (not even an unhealthy curry or noodle dish...), and of course was struck down by food poisoning for all of Thursday.

On Friday I finally forced myself to get out of the apartment. After four days of sitting at home and sulking, I was ready to see the light of day. But as soon as I was out, I found myself plagued by anxiety. Then the though of returning home doubled that anxiety. The truth is, my motivation has had to take a backseat to some bigger things this week. It's been rough. I haven't weighed myself, I haven't come up with a new exercise plan. Nothing. I should have been so excited this week, coming up on the second month of this journey, but I had other things on my mind. Things like finding a new apartment, looking for a roommate, finding alternative ways to make money, and figuring out how to share my living space with my ex until we can find other places to stay. Big things.

I know it sounded like I've fallen off the train, but I haven't. I swear I haven't fallen off of the train. I'm merely waiting at the platform, hoping to catch the next one (terrible metaphor but I'm running low on brain capacity). Because my health is so important to me, and I don't want this journey to take a back seat. It can't. I just have to figure out how to make the brain space for all of it. And I know I can.

As always, let's keep doing this.

DAY 53: SAN FRANCISCO

What is it about being in a new place that just makes you want to try every restaurant you pass by? I know that some of it has to be the fear of missing out on something you may not try again, but it almost feels like a compulsion, a need to try new foods.

Yesterday was a lot about food. And since it was a lot about food, we decided to also make it a lot about exercise. Walking, to be specific. We set our sights on two different parks to enjoy, with restaurants in between. We started off at a local cafe so V could finish her work in the morning. I enjoyed scrambled eggs (with yolks!) and a bowl of fruit. Sadly, the toast got kicked to the curb, which was totally fine.

Energized and work finished, we headed to our first destination - Golden Gate Park, which is over a thousand acres of sprawling wildlife, gardens, and museums (to put it in perspective it's about 20% larger than Central Park). We went with no real plan, other than to stop at a local Burmese restaurant for lunch on the north side of the park. V had been told we HAD to have it, so we made it a priority. The park was gorgeous.

As we walked, V asked me about my fitness journey so far. We talked quite a bit, but I was stuck on one of her questions as we continued on: How long was I going to keep blogging? I thought about it. I wasn't really sure. A year? Until I hit my goal weight? She pointed out that I didn't have a goal weight, and I laughed. She was right, yes. No true goal weight had been set. But I went into this having gained 100 lbs, and I think somewhere in the back of my mind that's where I imagined myself going. Did I think I was actually going to lose 100 lbs? I honestly didn't know. I could lose 70 lbs and decide that I'm fine. With the muscle I'm building from all my weight training, the actual composition of my body is changing so drastically, I'm not sure what it'll look like or feel like when those extra fatty pounds are gone. I admitted that I felt I'd just know when it was time to stop. She agreed.

Somewhere in our rambling, V decided that we should walk to the beach on the far side of the park. She had come all the way from NYC and wanted to dip her toe into the Pacific! I figured why not? Except half way there we realized it was about a seven mile walk through the park to the beach. But, we were already committed, and so we did it. 

Our impromptu beach visit had delayed us a little bit, though, and by the time we headed back towards the restaurant, it was already 4:30. The restaurant opened at 5, so we hung out in the car and listened to some music before preparing ourselves for the life changing Tea Leaf Salad we'd been recommended. I wish I had a picture of it because it was so beautiful, but we were so hungry by the time we sat down to eat that I totally forgot about it. It was delicious though. An array of textures came together for one perfect bite - peanuts, toasted garlic, sesame seeds, jalapeños, romaine, tomatoes, and topped with fermented tea leaves. It sounds crazy, but it was definitely worth the stop. We also decided to get some Burmese style vegetable curry and some coconut chicken noodles. We were in and out of there in about 40 minutes, and we were both totally stuffed.

After, we contemplated heading home and getting ready for our evening (even though we didn't know what that would entail), but we had made plans to go see the redwoods at Muir Woods, and we wanted to follow through. I'm incredibly grateful that we did. It was as if we were able to wander around an enchanted forrest, filled with magical beings lurking in the hollows of the gigantic trees.

I never wanted to leave. But sadly I'd forgotten my sweater at home, and my arms were starting to freeze off. We headed back home, enjoying driving through the thick fog. It added to our magical day.

By the time we got home, though, we were WIPED. I mean...we'd walked a bajillion miles and had started our day pretty damn early. So, instead of making a big deal about dinner (plus, it was like 9:30 anyway), we grabbed some tacos as a local recommended taqueria (we're staying in the Mission, and that is THE thing). 

At the end of the night, I was curious to see how many steps we'd actually walked and was not shocked to see a giant number staring back at me.

I'm so glad I've been able to utilize the city for my fitness needs. Regardless of not stepping into a gym since Wednesday, I don't feel like I've compromised any of my goals. I've been able to enjoy the food I want to try without indulging too much, plus I've maintained my activity level throughout. Halfway through my SF trip, and I think I can already say it's been a success. Being in LA, I don't have the opportunity to walk around this much, so I'm excited for two more days in SF. Come on, y'all. Let's keep doing this.

DAY 52: SAN FRANCISCO BOUND

A few months ago, my best friend and I realized we hadn't seen each other in a year and a half - at our friend's wedding, for one night. These are the hazards of moving across the country, I guess. Our friendships, even the one we hold dearest, start to become just a few texts and calls and likes on Instagram photos. So, when she told me she was going to be up in San Francisco for business for a few days in June, I told her I'd be there. At the time, I had no idea where my life was headed. I had no clue the new trajectory my whole being would be struggling with, and it didn't really hit me until I left yesterday that this trip probably wasn't what either of us had originally pictured. That didn't mean that we weren't going to enjoy every second, though.

Me and V reunited. Second time in two months!

After learning how to road trip pretty early on in this journey (what was Santa Cruz...Day 2?), I prepared myself for the six hour drive up north with plenty of healthy snacks (apples, strawberries, almonds), grabbed my favorite Starbucks treat (Skinny Hazelnut Latte and an egg white spinach wrap) and hit the road. 

It was the first time I've been alone with my thoughts for that long since starting this journey, and it was a little more intense than I originally anticipated. When I get too emotional or things get hard, I reach for a security blanket. I think we all have them - whether it's a good book, a bottle of wine, a casual fling, etc. For me it's music. Those who met me after college might not even know how important music is to me, to my healing process. But my life dream used to be a different kind of writer - of the singer/songwriter variety. 

At age 11, my dad took me to a recording studio to lay down one of my songs (a lullaby I'd written for my baby cousins). Growing up in a music industry family, I was discouraged from pursuing a career in music from day 1. After recording my song, the sound technician told me how impressed he was with me. He couldn't believe I was only 11. He asked if I had other songs, and I showed him a notebook filled with lyrics. He asked if I wanted to record anything else, but my dad shut it down immediately. In the car ride back to our hotel, I was riding high - I mean, what I'd done was pretty freaking cool, for someone of any age, much less 11. I asked my dad if we could listen to the CD in the car, and he obliged. I was SO proud of myself. That was MY SONG. And as it played through the car speakers I could almost believe I was listening to myself on the radio. My high crashed quickly after my dad chimed in. "It's great, Charlotte. You have a really pretty voice. But...in order to make it in the industry you have to have a pretty face AND a pretty voice." I was devastated, but internally I agreed with him. Britney Spears had just released her first album (at 17), and I certainly didn't look like her. It was the age of the pretty blonde pop star, and I couldn't shoehorn myself into that category as much as I wanted to. At 11, I absorbed this information and took it as the truth because I had to. Not to mention it was compounded by another decade of my dad telling me - "You'd be so pretty if you just lost a little weight." 

And though I cut my dad out of my life two years ago, sometimes his voice creeps into my head. On Monday, the day that I "felt pretty," I heard his voice questioning me. And it only got louder during the six hour drive up to San Francisco. So, I put in my latest obsession (Ed Sheeran's X) and drowned out the thoughts with his music. I listened to the album five times, listening to his lyrics and chord progressions, and became profoundly more moved each time around. This was what I missed. This was the kind of music I wanted to write. About being a sap and a nerd and being confused and hurt and in love. I made a resolution: 50 lbs into this thing, I want to get a keyboard and start writing again. Because as therapeutic as writing this quasi-diary has been, I think it'll be even more so to have a soundtrack that goes along with this journey.

By the time I arrived in San Francisco, I was feeling more motivated than I ever had, ready to tackle the next few days with my bestie by my side. After a quick rest (because, man, driving six hours is exhausting any way you cut it), we headed out to dinner to an Asian fusion restaurant. I'd already looked up the menu and knew there were a few salad options that sounded really good, and was not disappointed. Over dinner, we discussed our plan for the next few days. V had just come from Chicago where she'd gorged on not the healthiest foods, so she was game for some healthy days. My fortune agreed.

(or at all)

After finishing our food, we decided that we wanted to walk around the city, mostly to get more steps in (before leaving the airbnb I'd clocked less than 1k steps for the day). We headed to Delores Park and caught up on life. The view was pretty neat. And before we knew it, we were being kicked out of the park (apparently they close, who knew?)

By the time we got home, I'd clocked over 11k steps for the day. Which made me feel pretty good, seeing as I hadn't anticipated working out at all. That's definitely a huge plus to San Francisco, though. The walking. Mostly uphill. Exhausted, I promptly passed out, chord progressions starting to swirl through my head. 

Though the next few days aren't entirely planned out, I look forward to sharing whatever comes up. And making new goals. And writing new songs. Thank you for being part of this adventure. And as always, let's keep doing this.

DAYS 48-51

The past few days have been interesting. Not particularly good interesting or bad interesting one way or another. But, I'm noticing the way I'm changing more and more. 

On Sunday, I realized that I'd been out and about LA with friends for four nights in a row. By the time I came home on Sunday night I thought I'd be exhausted, but I was amped up after spending a great night out with friends. I wanted to watch Game of Thrones and see what everyone on my timeline was already tagging with SPOILER! 

I guess I've always been a fairly social person. I enjoy going out and I love seeing my friends. But since my weight gain, I all but quit my socializing. It seemed like a bigger burden to go out because I knew I'd have to find something to wear and inevitably would get progressively more anxious about being seen in public. This weekend, however, it barely fazed me. I felt, dare I say, normal again. I spent a fairly average amount of time picking an outfit and putting on makeup before heading out of the house. No panic attacks even threatened to bubble up. I was...fine. 

On Monday, I woke up ready to get back to my workout routine and decided I'd give one of the workout DVDs my new boss had loaned me a try. She suggested I start with the Tracy Anderson Method's pregnancy program because it was "slightly easier." Let me just say for the record, if that's slightly easier, I will not be ready for the real Tracy Anderson Method...maybe ever. The DVD was only 30 mins, but it kicked my ass. I was doing things with my muscles that they had never felt before. But oh, did I feel it later that day. 

And as I sat in the backyard, waiting for my new charge to wake up from his nap, I realized how great these changes to my life are. 

I felt serene. Entirely calm (although I guess some of that can be attributed to the baby's napping). 

But honestly, it was the first time I felt comfortable with the amount of change going on in my life. The past few months have been overwhelming. My emotions have been going through extreme highs and extreme lows. I think mostly because change is really pretty terrifying. No one actually likes change. It's unsettling. Going into the great unknown. One change leads to another and sooner or later you look around and don't even recognize your life anymore. But, if someone told me my life was going to be the same in ten years from now I'd be even more petrified. Change is good. It's natural. And it's really fucking exciting. 

Yesterday, as I finished my hour of cardio on the stationary bike, I was excited to find a package of clothes I'd ordered for myself from Modcloth. A few weeks ago I realized I'd returned two dresses last summer and never used my credit. So I got a few tops and a summer dress to supplement my wardrobe. For free (kind of). The clothes were all 2x, and I'd struggled with ordering them. But as soon as I tried them on, I couldn't have been happier. These were clothes that I wanted. That I was excited about. And I was thrilled to have more options every morning in my closet. Because there's nothing worse than having only three things that fit you and realizing all of them are in the hamper right before you have to be somewhere. 

I wore my new shirt with pride to work, loving the way it made me feel. Pretty. 

I can't lie and say that I woke up this morning feeling pretty again. Because I didn't. I woke up exhausted, having set my alarm earlier than usual to finish edits on a writing assignment before heading to the gym. I got grumpy at the gym because John (in his genius way) said I should just take the battery out of his HRM because he wasn't using it and mine still hadn't come. Only to find out the watch was still malfunctioning and I may have to drop another $65 to get a new one. I was annoyed by the June Gloom drizzles as I made my way to work and even more annoyed when the sun came out and I started to sweat under my long sleeves and pants. But that's not really what's important. What's important is that these small moments of clarity and happiness keep poking through. That the little changes I've made are starting to add up into something big. So big that I don't know who I'll be in another ten pounds lost, much less the next ninety of them. 

But I can say that I am excited you are all here for this journey. Somehow it's a little less daunting with you all by my metaphorical side. So, thank you again to everyone for their incredible support. And as always, let's keep doing this. 

DAYS 45-47

The past few days have been strange and unexpected. Having passed through two weeks of staffing and not finding any summer prospects, I'd resigned myself to a summer of working out and writing and form a solid foundation for my routine before I went back to work in August. All of this was thrown out the window, however, when I received a full time position for the summer. I was mid-hike when I got the text, asking me if I could babysit that night. To which I immediately said yes. But after the night of sitting, they sprung the full time offer on me. And I was slightly blind sided.

Though, I knew I wanted to - the family is great, the kid is great, and we'd worked together before, so I felt good about making a summer long commitment - the doubts started to creep in. When was I going to fit in my workout? I'd be working 12 hour days, and taking care of a toddler. Would I be able to maintain my exercise schedule with those kinds of hours? And what about food? Would I have time to prep my meal plan? Would I be more tempted to "cheat?" Anxiety took over. I wasn't ready for this so soon!

I told them I had to think about it, and they were more than happy with that answer, which I appreciated. I was so exhausted from my week of not sleeping, though, that I slept through my alarm the next morning and missed my window of opportunity to go to the gym. So it begins, I groaned to myself as I prepared for another afternoon of work.

But what I didn't anticipate was how helpful and accommodating the family would be. As soon as I told the mother my anxieties, she completely understood. She was so impressed by my motivation and desire to keep pushing forward toward my goals that she said she would do anything to make it work for me. Exercise could be shoehorned into the day while the toddler napped, she told me as she waxed on about the gloriousness of fitness DVDs. She even gave me a few to take home that night, to try out and see if I liked them. Or, I could take the toddler hiking with me, she suggested. Their home is close to several hikes and the entire neighborhood is uphill. As for food, she said I was welcome to take anything from their fridge. They actually use an at home food delivery service, which is farm to table and can be altered in order to fit my fitness needs. I was overwhelmed. I couldn't even begin to describe my gratitude for her support. Suddenly, the idea of going back to work seemed less daunting. 

Plus, going home and looking at my step count for the day, I realized that my activity level was automatically going to go up in trying to take care of a toddler, who wanted to run around all day. 

I woke up this morning feeling incredibly motivated, and ready to tackle the next leg of my fitness journey. And this only made it that much better. Finally getting into the 240s on the scale.

At first I was a little bummed out, I'm not going to lie. I had been home for three weeks and only lost two pounds. But also...finally seeing below 250 was pretty amazing. And I need to remember that this is an accumulation of pounds lost. Not a sprint. Plus, it meant that I could get myself a 10lb reward for myself. It popped out at the gym today. Something I've desperately wanted for my hikes - an arm band for my phone! And it's pink, because that's how I roll. I also finally bought Ed Sheeren's album for myself, which totally got me pumped during my cardio on the stationary bike. 

 And though, no, it's not what I thought this summer would be, I'm excited to see what it will bring. Even if it means figuring out a new fitness schedule and a new meal plan, I know I am committed to myself and my health goals no matter what. As always, let's keep doing this!

DAYS 39-44

It's almost been a full week since my last entry, and I finally forced myself to sit down and think about why that was. After making such a promise to myself to keep up with my feelings, I walled up and shut down and bailed.

For those of you closest to me, you know this is how I handle being overwhelmed. In the past six days, three of them were partaking in large group activities and the other three were focusing on a writing deadline.

The first group activity was a game night at a friend's house. I was already feeling down on myself because I'd had my blood drawn in the morning and had been unable to finish out my second week of five workouts. I knew that getting four workouts in wasn't bad by any means, but still riding the roller coaster of my belated period, I wasn't feeling 100%. I mustered up all the willpower I could to put on a happy face for the night, but I was immediately assaulted by snacks and drinks. My friend had prepared an amazing looking spread with brie and crackers and brownies and goat cheese strawberry pastries and home made pizza and lots and lots of wine. I knew I had to stay away from the food, but I had allotted calories for two glasses of wine for the night. But when the room started to fill up, and I was presented with a large group of people I didn't know, I broke. Food has always been a comfort to me, and with my nerves skyrocketing and not wanting to talk to new people, I broke away from the circle to grab a few snacks. By the end of the night, I was racked with guilt. I had wanted to stay on target, but I didn't.

The next day I was forced into a similar situation. To go to a picnic with an even larger group of people I barely knew. My friend and her boyfriend host a potluck picnic in the park during the summer for all their groups of friends, and though I knew a handful of people, the majority were strangers. Luckily, my raging guilt from the night before had forced me to bring a mixed green salad to the potluck and bring my own prepared lunch in a cooler, so as not to be tempted by anything there. It worked, thank god. But as my friend approached me and told me how much she loved reading my blog, how much it motivated her to exercise and eat right, the wave of guilt returned. With the schedule I'd created for myself, I was supposed to rest during the weekends, but I felt guilty knowing that I'd tacked on an extra day of rest. I didn't have the courage to weigh myself.

That night, I couldn't sleep. I was up tossing and turning until nearly 6:30 in the morning. I heard people leaving their apartments, walking their dogs, and getting up for the day, all before I was able to fall asleep myself. Something was nagging at the back of my brain, keeping my brain spiraling with worry. When I woke up Sunday (mid-day), John suggested I do something nice for myself. Brunch out? I agreed, ready to refocus my mindset on one off positivity. But when we arrived at the restaurant, I realized this would be my first time eating out since getting back to LA. I hadn't looked at the menu to prepare options, like my sister recommended, and I felt out of my depth. Luckily, I was able to find something relatively quickly on the menu (egg white frittata with garden vegetables and feta with a side of fruit) and relaxed a tiny bit. I enjoyed the sunshine and my delicious food, and when we got home, I settled in to write for the rest of the day.

I couldn't sleep again that night.

I had planned to wake up Monday morning, fresh and ready to conquer my leg day at the gym, but instead I slept through my alarm, waking only in time to make it to a writing date I'd scheduled a few days earlier. The writing was cut short, though, by plans to attend my friend's Memorial Day BBQ. Not wanting to deal with any sort of guilt, I brought watermelon to the party and snacked on fruits and veggies the whole day. And pickles. So many pickles.

I left the party realizing that during my busy holiday weekend, I hadn't worked out once and was now four days out of the game. I wanted to cry. How could I have done this to myself again? I reminded myself as kindly as I could that I had a very pressing writing deadline that needed to be attended to, and I prioritized that above all else. But I knew in reality I should have made time.

Yesterday, after banging out my morning hike with Rory (which was considerably harder after four days off), I went to the coffee shop and refused to leave until my writing was finished. I sent my script out for notes, grabbed my grocery list for Week #3 of my meal plan, and headed to Trader Joe's. And that night as I enjoyed my delicious dinner of spiralized summer squash noodles with turkey meatballs and worked on my script revisions, I felt incredibly accomplished.

Rory, killing our hike.

Today I think I truly figured out what has been bothering me, and it's going to sound really dumb, guys. Last week, during my hike on Thursday, my Polar FT4 Heart Rate Monitor ran out of battery, and I've been feeling totally off since. I've learned that I'm way more motivated when I can see the number of calories I'm taking in (and logging them in MyFitnessPal) and compare it to what I've burned on my watch. You'd think by now, a month and a half into this journey, I'd be okay not knowing how many calories I'm burning in each work out. It's the same work out each time, why the hell do I care? And the answer is...I don't know. But I do.

As I left the gym today, feeling broken down from my leg day, I wished I could see the number on my little pink watch telling me it was a job well done.

Do I see a difference in my body (especially given the ridiculous amount of selfies I take)? Yes, of course I do. Even in this horrible picture I see my face and arms thinning. But there was something extra motivating about seeing that calories burned number climb during my workouts. I'm waiting for the battery to come in, and I'm not going to lie - I expect another shitty night's sleep until it's back up and working. But until then, I know I'm going to push myself harder every day. This journey is still in its beginning phases, and I have a lot longer to go. I'm inevitably going to get frustrated and not always be able to work out and write every day. But I'm going to keep at it for as long as I can. As always, let's keep doing this.

DAYS 36-38

After Monday's affirmations, I expected the week to get magically better. The problem was, my mindset had been compromised for the first time since starting my journey, and it took a full three days to try and work my way out of it.

Sometimes a week just doesn't go well. And I guess this is where I complain about it.

Tuesday I was supposed to hike in the morning with Caiti again, but I couldn't pull myself out of bed. I was waylaid by intense stomach cramps (but weirdly no period), which luckily dissipated later in the afternoon. Fortunately, I was still able to force myself to get out of the house and go on a hike, but it was with great effort. After coming back from my hike I realized, to my dismay, that I had one dinner left of my pre-cooked meals, and I desperately needed to go grocery shopping. I knew I'd have to go to the grocery, but I was too tired to deal with a trip that night. I'd go in the morning.

Yesterday, I woke up and again didn't want to work out. I stole a piece of toast and two eggs from John before I resigned myself to figure out my finances and go to the grocery store as soon as possible. The problem is that even with a mapped out meal plan, eating healthfully is fairly expensive. There's a reason obesity is such a problem, and it's because healthy food is expensive. My sister has helped me figure out less expensive alternatives (cooking meals that last for 4 days, swapping fresh veggies for frozen ones, etc), but still...one week on my meal plan is about $100.

Compare that to this video of this guy who ate everything on the Whitecastle menu. For a whole $60.

The video came up on my Facebook feed, and even though I couldn't bring myself to watch the entire video, I did happen to skip to the ending. His tally. $60 for about 10k calories. That's enough junk food to feed one person for a full week, based on intake. Nearly half of what I'm spending. 

Not only is the price insanely low, but fast food advertisements are everywhere. In fact, even my iTunes radio (my soundtrack for the gym) has now been invaded by commercials for Rold Gold Pretzels and Famous Amos Cookies. I turn on my TV and am assaulted by advertisements for cheap fast food, and I remember how easy it was to pick that crap up. It's much harder to plan and shop and cook. And though I'm no longer tempted, I am annoyed. Annoyed that I can't go anywhere without this junk being put in my face. Whether it's billboards along the street as I walk to my hike, or catching up on the latest episode of The Bachelorette, or passing numerous chains as I drive to the gym, cheap fast food is far more prevalent than nutritious food - and I live in LA around the corner from two farmers markets!

Needless to say, I'm SO happy that I'm eating healthfully. I was actually gleeful as I unloaded my haul of groceries yesterday. I smiled as lean proteins and veggies and whole grains spread across my counter. But it was a frustrating point of my day. 

Yesterday continued to frustrate when I looked down at my heart rate monitor during my workout and realized that it had died. Though I know I can easily replace the battery, I have become somewhat reliant on my HRM, and I was incredibly disappointed when I couldn't enter my calories burned into my fitness app. Estimating or not counting them at all felt way less satisfying.

Last night I went to bed disappointed and frustrated, but I resolved myself to wake up this morning and push forward. Who cared that things were annoying me this week? People get annoyed all the time! It was at that moment that I looked at my calendar and realized my period was 10 days late, despite the cramping I was feeling. And that might have something to do with my intense irritability. I pushed the thought aside until I met up for real with Caiti this morning for my Thursday hike. I confided in her that I was extremely nervous, that my body felt out of whack, and I was a little stressed.

Caiti, being an athlete herself, talked me down immediately. She assured me that with my massive burst in activity and decreased intake, there was a really good chance I'd changed my menstrual cycle, and there was no reason to freak out. I scoffed at the idea (even though my mom had said the same thing the day before). Wasn't losing your period a thing that athletes did because they were under a certain body fat percentage? At 250 lbs, I highly doubted I would be affected similarly. But, regardless, I felt better. Plus, we had a super cute dog with us.

Knowing internally (despite my lack of HRM) I'd burned 1k calories and filled with positive thoughts from Caiti, I headed back inside to make lunch for myself. Second lunch on the meal plan! Chicken Caesar salad with homemade greek yogurt based dressing. It came out amazing.

But as soon as I'd taken a few bites, I was attacked by cramps again. There was no questioning this feeling. I knew without a doubt I'd finally gotten my period. Thank god I'd been able to work out in the morning, because at the rate my cramps were coming, there was no way I'd have been able to move this afternoon. In fact, the whole day was spent in bed, cursing being a woman. Just kidding. Kind of. 

That said, it's clear that through this whole process I am having to learn my body all over again. My moods, my rhythm, my mindset have all changed so drastically in such a short amount of time, and I'm just beginning to figure out what feels best for me. I am becoming a different person, a more motivated and determined person, and even though that person is different than the one I was just a few months ago, I think I like this one even better. Yes, I had a bad week, but what are a few days of discomfort while I relearn myself compared to a lifetime of being comfortable in my own body? 

Let's keep doing this, people. 

DAYS 34 & 35

Warning: If you are triggered by mentions of sexual assault or rape, this entry is not for you.

Just over six years ago, I was raped.  On a day to day basis, it's not something I deal with anymore. And recently, my days have been more about which foods I have to prepare and what workout I've been able to complete, than anything else. In other words, my brain has been so busy thinking about other things and reprioritizing my day, that there hasn't been any time for much else to creep back in.

Last night, however, I was forced to deal with it. The final scene of Sunday's Game of Thrones showed a pretty graphic and unnecessary rape of one of the leading women. I knew it was coming, but I still wasn't really prepared. I focused on my phone instead of the TV, staring at the little game of Solitaire, and trying to block out sounds of aggressive grunting and pained screaming in the background. Luckily, I had two more shows to watch before heading to bed, but when it came time to turn off the light, my brain couldn't stop circling.

I woke up this morning feeling sluggish and easily annoyed. While last week, I'd been so excited for my Monday work out that I jumped out of bed and headed to the gym before my alarm even went off, today it took two hours of John's coaxing and an extra cup of coffee to get me there. I told myself to get over it. That I was fine, and to just do my workout the best that I could.

Apparently I took that direction to heart, because I don't think I've ever worked out as hard as I did this morning. I hopped on the elliptical for my warm up, turned on my angriest playlist and pushed myself as far as I could. And it didn't stop there. I attacked my leg circuit, pushing myself an extra two or three reps, until my muscles were shaking.

Four years ago, when I first started going to sexual assault therapist, she recommended that I exercise as part of my routine. The only gym I felt comfortable going to, however, was the 24 Hour Fitness in the middle of boystown West Hollywood. I worked out fearlessly there, knowing that the boys were more interested in checking each other out than me, and I could slip through my routine without anyone noticing I was even there. I'd avert my eyes if anyone tried to make eye contact with me and would happily give up a machine just so I wouldn't have to talk to anyone else in the gym. In other words, it was perfect.

Back at that same gym today, I was ferocious. I staked out a corner of the weight lifting room for my circuit, marking my space with my towel and water bottle and practically growling at anyone who came too close. Today, I was angry. Angry that even after six years, one fictional rape scene was enough to make me feel like my body was under attack. That even though I've worked at it and healed as much as I could, somewhere deep down I still believe my body is not allowed to take up space. That it's not my body. It's everyone's body.

My anger came to a head today when an approaching guy asked if I was still using the incline bench (even though there were two more in the near vicinity). "Yup!" I said, continuing with my workout (almost an hour strong!). Feeling slighted, he put up his hands and backed away with an, "Okay, Bambi." It took me a full 30 seconds to realize that I was wearing a shirt I'd bought at Disneyland many years ago that had Bambi on it, and another 30 seconds for my spirit to break. I felt betrayed by the gym that had kept me safe for so many years.

Tears mixed with sweat as I hopped back onto the elliptical to wind down for the day. I put on the pop station on my iTunes radio, trying to perk back up, but I couldn't . There was something so innately sexist and frustrating about the way I had been addressed. "Bambi." Really? I would never have approached a stranger and said anything like that. I just couldn't believe that even while being unafraid, in the zone, and doing exactly what everyone else was doing, this stranger felt the need to talk down to me. Maybe he thought he was being cute or clever. Maybe he does it to men as well as women. I don't know. But I do know that it made me feel small and belittled, despite leaving the gym with nearly 1000 calories burned.

After getting home and showering, I contemplated calling it a day. Just crawling into bed, deciding the world is too scary a place for me, and going back to sleep. But part of this journey is healing and taking control of my body. And so...I forced myself to put on makeup, real clothes, and shoes, and head out to a coffee shop to get some things done. 

I know no matter what society, experiences, or media tries to tell me, I can be the master of my own body. And that giving strength to my own voice is a positive thing, no matter who feels slighted as I do it. Because...as I say each time....I'm going to keep doing this.