Most people who have known me forever know that I had an issue with food in high school and college. I feared it. Actually, I loved food. It was the fear of becoming a freaking fat ass I had the issue with. Unlike most teens these days, who blame their dysfunctions on abusive parents or daddy being on the crack pipe, I had no one to blame but myself. I'm pretty sure this fear came to me in the womb. At the ripe old age of five, I was hospitalized (over Christmas, I might add) because I was scared to eat. I was tiny. So little, in fact, to this day, the parent Eggs call me "Bird". Yes, that's correct, "Bird Egger". Go ahead and laugh, Papa Egg's friends still call me "Hammond". .....Anywho....The point is, I grew up in a tiny town, surrounded by, uh, frumpy, unkempt rednecks, for lack of a better description. I was fortunate enough to be raised by a "normal" family. Mama Egg was 100% Italian, spent all her time in the kitchen, and loved to cook for the masses. Papa Egg was a health nut, work-out freak vegetarian. So why the hell did I obsess over staying thin? Who knows. Probably because I'm a dumb-ass. That's the only logic I can concoct.
Now that we're past the backstory (thank God)...I have been attending morning boot camp on the beach. This was something I desparately needed following my disgusting weight gain of 26 pounds. I'm not going to lie. My biggest fear in life (besides cockroaches and Barbara Streisand), is getting fat. If you read my other blogs, you know that I don't deal well with excuses and laziness. Yeah, you can call me obsessive compulsive (or a few other things, I'm sure), but I was not going to let myself gain another ounce. I didn't want my nickname changed from "Bird" to "Fatty McGee", or "Fatty McButterPants", or "Fatty Bo Batty", or "Stupid whore who stole my boyfriend". I was going to get this weight off, and get my smokin' hot bod back, dammit! I was also going to start teaching Zumba again, once I looked sexy enough to don my Zumba garb.
That was three months ago. Today, I look fantastic. Yeah, that's right. I'm a narcissistic bitch. I busted my ass every morning to get myself where I am. I completed my 21 day clean eating program today, with no cheating. I'm teaching Zumba twice a week. I had to go buy smaller pants last week, because mine were like Hammer pants on me (80's reference, duh). People tell me every day how great I look. I have so much energy, I'm annoying. My stomach hasn't been upset (I always had a nervous stomach), My skin has cleared up, I sleep like a drunken bum (yeah, that good), I am as strong as a bitch on coke, and can probably fight like a ninja if given the opportunity. I always knew I had it in me, but without the help of Total Body Results, LLC, I never would have looked this slammin'. I'm not done yet. I know I can look even better, and I plan on it. I loved the results I saw from eating clean so much, I am doing it again. As a matter of fact, it's a lifestyle now.
And now...For my rant....As I've stated before, I do NOT tolerate excuses or laziness. I know a lot of people who sit around, whining about their weight, as they stuff another bacon wrapped, sour cream stuffed, quadruple beef patty, six cheese layered, mayo injected, donut-for-a-bun sandwich down their gullet. Here's a thought - let that cottage cheese in your thighs inspire you to eat more cottage cheese. I have heard some "bigguns" cry that "I don't have time". Really? Listen up, tons-o-fun, you had time to devour a small village. You have to make lifestyle changes. I get up at 5:10AM now to go work out. MAKE TIME. Yeah, it may cut into your night at the buffet, but eventually you won't be craving that shit. Buffet food sits around for two weeks at room temperature growing bacteria, anyways (tip from your friendly health inspector-you're welcome). Another complaint, "When I get home from work, it's just easier to sit down, nosh on four Hungry Howie's butter crust loaded pizza, and watch Hoarders." Know what else is easy? Driving your car off the Sunshine Skyway, leaving your kid in the car with the windows up while you go to the bar, stealing a seat from a blind guy, giving a midget a noogie, going to work naked, arm wrestling Kate Moss, and pushing over a baby that's taking it's first steps. You wouldn't do any of those things, right? SO WHY THE HELL AREN'T YOU WORKING OUT YET? It's hard? God Damned right it's hard. If it was easy, everyone would be walking around with a rock hard ass and a set of six-pack abs. CHALLENGE YOURSELF. "I can't afford it". Yeah, you're right. It's much cheaper to pay for someone to come in and wipe your ass because you can't, seeing as how you're on a ventilator, a pacemaker, blood thinners, insulin, and weigh 1,342 pounds. Of course, I'm sure Medicare covers that. Can you really put a price tag on good health? Hell no, bitch.
What are you waiting for? Only you can prevent forest fires....er, I mean, only you can make these positive changes in yourself. What have you got to lose, besides about 492 pounds?
Wow. I should have been a freakin' motivational speaker.
***I owe a special thank you to the trainers of Total Body Results, LLC
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