A few years ago, a friend of mine came up with the phrase, “Operation Fat Ass” – it was her mantra for her weight-loss program. Last week, I decided to adopt that slogan and use it as my own.
Listen, I’m not a girl who think she’s fat. I’m really not. However, I am the girl that has had 2 children and weighs more than she feels comfortable weighing. Is it tons more? No. But it’s a number I’m not comfortable with.
And I could blame it all on the kids, but that’s not really the truth. That might have been how it began, but the path continued with my deep-rooted love of all things processed food. Me and Little Debbie snack cakes have been together a long time. Additionally, I pretty much hate exercise. I could probably watch 15 episodes of Doodlebots and enjoy it more than I do working out.
However, something happened this weekend that changed everything. I went to the movies with my daughter and when we sat down in the seats, I looked down. I was horrified by what I saw. My muffin top roll was actually over my pants and pulling my jeans zipper open. I can honestly say it was the first time I really hated my body. I’ve disliked it at times but never true hated it.
So I made the decision to break up with my fat rolls. I’m dumping their asses harder than Ben Affleck dumped J. Lo when he realized she was from Crazytown.
So let the games begin. I’m using an app to count calories, I’m actually taking a cardio class 3 days a week, and I’m trying to limit my alcohol. Yes, insert cries of pain and anguish here. That’s the one that is truly killing me. But notice I just said limit. Let’s not go all crazy and think I can give up my cocktails… I’m pretty sure I’d get back together with the fat rolls before I’d do that…
Operation Fat Ass begins. It’s been one week and I feel like Little Debbie is sad and lost without our friendship. Please send her my love and tell her it wasn’t her, it was me…
(pix from www.youbeauty.com)
