Because Fit by 40 was Taken

I’ll be 38 in 4.75 months. Math is not my strong suit but I’m pretty sure that gives me 16.75 months to implement changes to my life.

Seems reasonable, but it appears I have significant commitment issues when it comes to actually getting healthy. I’ve been truly fighting with my weight for the last decade.

Once upon a long time ago I was a dancer who spent 20 hours in the studio every week. I could eat San Luis Sourdough dipped in ranch dressing with a diet (of course) coke till the cows came home and never worry about my weight.

I battled the freshman fifteen and then the graduate from college and move to NYC and eat Chinese food from the local hole in the wall every night 15 and then the oh I’m married now I can settle down fifteen. You see the pattern. It’s been the worst for the last decade. My answer to all of life’s emotions is food. Happy? Eat. Sad? Eat. Bitter? Eat. Frustrated? Eat. And when you couple that with taking a year off from the gym, well, you find yourself a stone’s throw from a number on the scale that you never imagined hitting, and thinking it’s about damn time to fix this.

Sure, I hate how I look. But the worst part is staring down the big 40 and realizing I’m not getting any younger and had better get on this if I’m going to do it.

So here we go. For real this time. Because I owe it to myself and my family.