2.6 pounds…
…away from losing a total of 40 pounds.
40 pounds! If you’d told me on January 17, 2008 that I would ever reach my 40-pound mark, I’d have just laughed in your face and said, “Whatever dude.” As much as I was determined to lose my supposed 96 pounds this year and as much as I planned to work out 3-4x a week, it wasn’t far from my mind that, like everything else in my life, I’d give up and move on to something else (read: quitting the “lifestyle change” and just stuffing myself all over again with endless foods and vowing we’d start again the next day, next week, next month or next year). Being overweight all my life, what was another pound anyways? I could still find clothes to fit me (albeit not as cute) and I could still walk properly — these were my thought processes back in the days when I was still living in denial. There was absolutely nothing that laughter could not hide and as long as I kept up the charade of making people laugh, being fat felt almost as normal as being skinny.
That is, of course, until you’re naked and you come face to face with a full-length mirror. (Or you get inside a room with a bunch of Filipinos and they want to understand why you’re so fat and they tell you if you were skinnier, you’d be prettier!). Whatever the case, I’m done, done, done with all this obesity crap. I want to be a skinny bitch for once.
So what else is there to do? Kick some more @ss!



