Keep moving on.

So today, I weighed myself for the first time.

I don't know what I expected to happen when I got on that scale.

Maybe I thought the world would implode.

Lo and behold, it didn't. I had worked up to this and worked up to this and in a single moment, I stepped on the scale... and...

I lost four pounds.

Hmm... I can't really be upset about that. After all, at least it's SOMETHING. And it's what is considered "normal". It's not what I expected. I had wanted a little more.

What IS that thing that happens, anyway, when a woman steps on the scale? Ladies know what I'm talking about. If we've lost as much as we want, (and we usually don't have a specific number, just whatever's "enough"), we celebrate. How? Usually by eating! If we haven't lost what's "enough", we always have that fleeting moment of "I'm not eating for the next three days... no, two days... no, just today... no, just lunch..."

At least that's how it goes in my head.

But I kept going today. I ate what was on my plan, and tomorrow I'll be back in the gym working my butt off (literally, hopefully). Because this journey is still just starting.

And four pounds is the best start I can think of to a new reality.

Click.

Last night, my grandparents and I watched the movie Click with Adam Sandler. Sandler portrays a man named John Newman who, frustrated with his own mediocrity, is given a remote to control his life by a strange figure named Morty, (Christopher Walken). Once endowed with the remote, John begins to fast forward to the points of his life that he wishes to go to without regard as to what will happen in between. He sees the end of his life, a very tragic end, and is given the chance by Morty, (who we discover is the Angel of Death), to go back and do it right.

It was a good movie. I like to take something from films, even comedies and Adam Sandler movies. And as I was watching this movie last night, the only thing I kept thinking was, "That's nice... but that's not REAL."

Because we don't get a re-do on life.

I believe in second chances. Lord knows I've been the recipient of plenty of them. But when it comes to the big picture, when it comes to life as a whole, there are no second chances.

And life is made of the small moments.

That's the true lesson we learn in Click. Life isn't about the big moments. Those may be the ones that stick out in our memories. Weddings, deaths, promotions, births, houses, cars, jobs...

But life is about the everyday. It's about tossing a ball around the back yard with your dog. (Or your kid. Or both.) It's about jamming out in your car and looking like an idiot and NOT CARING. It's about friendships and family and the intimate and quiet and seemingly mundane. That makes life what it is.

Righteous Indignation.

I always think I know what I'm doing.

And then I figure out that I don't.

I'm the kind of person, like many people I assume, who has to fall flat on her face to learn things. Sometimes I have to fall repeatedly, injuring myself emotionally and other ways multiple times. I've never particularly liked it about myself, but stubbornness, like many things, is a double-edged sword.

Recently, I've been going through something that I never thought I would. Something I had actually vowed to myself would never happen. It's the most painful thing I've gone through in a very long time.

It's a broken heart. And it blows.

Tonight, I snuck white chocolate chips from the pantry and ate some of them. Not the entire bag like I would've done in the past, but a sizable portion. I feel guilty, but I think I'm going to take it as a learning experience and not dwell on it.

Because the chocolate hasn't made anything better.

Sure, it tasted good. It kinda got old after the first two handfuls of chips. But my heart is still broken and I still have to work through all of these emotions... chocolate or not.

So I press onward. Because I'm still in this. Life is still changing for the better. And one stumble will not cost me this race.

Perfectionism Blows.

I'm such a perfectionist.

I always have been. I'm so particular and I set impossibly high standards for myself to achieve. The worst part is that when I realize I can't achieve them, I just give up.

Why?

Because I'd rather not do it at all than not be able to do it perfectly.

Messed up? Yeah, I think so, too.

That was, perhaps, one of my biggest fears in all of this. If I couldn't do it to what I perceived to be perfection, would I just give up like always? Or would I be able to keep going?

Tonight, I had half a pint of Haagen Dazs sorbet. Not much, not the entire thing, and I knew I would. The best part of putting those spoonfuls of luscious raspberry deliciousness into my mouth?

I wasn't one bit guilty about it.

Because it didn't cause the world to crumble around me. Because I'm still on a good path. Because life goes on whether you ate the stupid Haagen Dazs or not.

Life goes on.

And just because I had half a pint of raspberry sorbet tonight doesn't mean I have to get up tomorrow morning and start living life the way I did seven days ago, bingeing constantly. Because tomorrow morning I'm still going to get up, have oatmeal with blueberries, drink my water, and take my vitamins.

And life will still be my choice.

It's All Changing

For the majority of my life, I've avoided major change like the plague.

When I'm comfortable, I like to stay comfortable. Simple as that. I don't like the new or the unknown because it's all out of my control. But looking back over the past four or five years, almost everything has changed. Nothing seems sacred. Nothing stays the same.

Most of all... I don't stay the same.

I thought through all of this that food would constantly be on my mind, that it would get monotonous, that I wasn't strong enough. And the best part of the past five days is that I keep proving myself wrong.

As much as I still enjoy food, it's not always on my mind. Eating has become systematic for me, just another thing I do. I don't make it this big event anymore where I work up to it and look forward to it all day, every day.

At the gym today, the guy who had shown me how to use the machines and which machines to use was busy with other clients and I was confused. I hate asking for help. It seems like weakness to me. I told my grandma, my workout buddy, that I didn't know what to do. So we found machines that did the same thing as the machines he wanted me to use.

And I kept going.

In a crowded gym. At dinner faced with fatty hamburger meat and buttery hamburger buns.

I kept going.

I think -perhaps- this will be a main thrill of mine now. Proving myself wrong. All the way to my BEST LIFE.

Go.

Today is the first day of the rest of your life.

Except I've exercised before. So what makes this time different?

I suppose that was the question that was lodged inside of my head all day today. What's different? What makes this time different from the bazillion other times when I promised myself that I was going to change, only to wind up desperately stuffing an entire package of Chips Ahoy three days later? And then WHAM! it hit me.

I'm different.

I'm not the girl I once was. Slowly, ever so slowly, I'm becoming a woman. And maybe it scares me just a little to actually not need anyone. I can say it all I like, but I've always been needy. This is for me... and me alone. No one but me gets hurt if I break down and don't follow through.

No one but me.

So yeah, was I a tad embarassed as I went to the gym today and the trainer put me on a treadmill next to an Ethiopian sprint runner who was blazing at about eighty miles an hour and burning a hole in the bottom of the treadmill? Yep. But I saw something in myself today.

I'm stronger than I ever thought I was.

Laugh at yourself. Get the job done. Love life. And I do love my life.

Set.

I went grocery shopping today.

As the cart began to fill with soy milk and whole wheat tortillas, I began to worry. What if I'm just not ready for this?

Because I had three pieces of cheesecake tonight at our super bowl party. (YEAH, SAINTS!)

But then I wonder to myself: Maybe, just maybe, I've been waiting for this moment my entire life.

The moment to rise to the challenge. The moment to finally conquer.

Then it hit me. Like an angry wife. This is MY moment. All mine. It's time to prove this to myself. Time to prove that I'm the conqueror I always say I am.

I'm ready. I'm set. Let's get it.

Ready.

I still question whether or not I'm really ready for this.

I have lived as a fat girl for so long. People who "eat healthy" are like aliens to me. It's weird to think that soon, I'll be one of them.

I guess the real reason I'm doing this (besides myself)?

My kids.

They don't even exist yet. In fact, in my mind, my husband doesn't even exist yet. But even though my future kids don't exist, I still love them more than I even know how to love.

And I don't want them to be me. I want them to be better than that. But they'll never know better until I do better. Because I know what I'm supposed to do, but I've never actually done it. But the biggest motivation in the world -my ability to be called "mommy" one day- is what will power me through this.

I know I'm ready. Let's get down to it!

Step Into the Future.

I'm a twenty-year-old child.

Because I don't have anything that's really mine but my imagination. I haven't accomplished much for two whole decades on this earth. What I own is intangible, living in my head. Everything that I've had or accomplished has somehow slipped away.

Today, that all changed.

It won't seem like much to anyone else. It's a PERMIT.

That's right. A driver's permit. Something I never thought I'd do.

But I did it.

I've had other accomplishments that have run through my fingers like sand, and I was hesistant at first about this one.

After all, nothing is definite. But being here, in this time and this place, I feel as though I just stepped through a door.

That door leads to my future. I won't lose this. I won't let go of this. Stepping off the proverbial cliff-edge is terrifying.

But stepping through the proverbial door of life has done nothing but give me JOY.

Testing... Testing... 1.2.3.

What's funny about that is that I hate it when people do that.

This is the story of a girl. (Good song!)

This girl is FAT.

But she doesn't want to be anymore.

She's conquered multiple addictions.

But she hasn't conquered food...

YET.

So this is the story of a journey.

A journey to CONQUER.

One girl. One life. One future.