The last 9 months of hell? 

Officially the rest of my life.

Time to develop coping mechanism to alleviate the anxiety driven portions of my symptoms, while officially re-learning how to eat. 

And you know what the most common triggers are?

Raw fruits and veggies.

What the hell did I do to my body to screw it up so bad that it’s refusing to process fruits and veggies? 





One of my friends is starting a 40 day yoga challenge that’s being held by her work (she works at a juice bar/yoga studio, how freaking cool is that?). We had a nice long discussion tonight about committing to things, and how hard it is for us to stick to exercising. 

I can plan my meals. I’m an expert at counting calories (probably not a good thing), but when it comes to exercising … I just really can’t get into it. 

I know everyone says to find out an exercise that you love, but the only thing I honestly love doing is swimming (cue Splash Free) and we don’t have a pool/access to a pool. Walking is getting monotonous. As is the old exercise I used to do last year. Everything works, I know it does, but it’s just so either boring, or I feel like I’m putting more effort into being pissed about the fact that I have to work out than actually trying to do the damn exercise. 


Long story that could have been way shorter: 

I’m going to do the 30 Day Shred. I’m gonna do this bitch, and I’m going to stick to it. Because I fucking need to. While she commits to yoga, I’m committing myself to Jillian Michaels. I need to just work out. I need to just do it, shut up about it, and stick with it. 

If I can do it for 30 days, I can do it for life. 

Wish me luck, fitblrs. <3


Possibly going to be a long post, but please, stick with me, I swear this story is important.

Last night, I made turkey meatballs. A pound of turkey, some parmesan cheese, some bread crumbs, an egg and some spices. No biggie, right?

Normally, I’m so good about making sure I weigh out, or measure exactly how much of what I use so that I can record it in my food log as a recipe on MyFitnessPal. Last night though, as I’m just getting into the natural swing of things (my family makes meatballs like a baker bakes bread), I’m finding myself just measuring out a handful of this, and a handful of that. And I thought to myself, Shit. I don’t even know how much that is. Is that like, a half cup? That looks like a half cup.

So as I’m putting my information into MyFitnessPal, I find myself continually second guessing what I’m putting in. A half cup of parm cheese … that’s lot of calories. Same with bread crumbs … those numbers can’t be right … 400 calories for 5 meatballs?

I got so worried about it that I actually went back into my kitchen, pulled out my scale, washed my hands and measured over a bowl the approximate same handful that I used of both bread crumbs and parm cheese. 

It was half of what I had estimated.

Now. This was good and bad. Good because I wasn’t consuming as many calories as I thought I was. Bad because I was severely over estimating my calorie consumption.

I’m one of those people who is a firm believer in making sure you eat. Eat, eat, eat eat!! If you find yourself under your calories for the day, and can’t bring yourself to eat anything else, have a spoonful of natural peanut butter! If you’re on MyFitnessPal or CalorieCount and it gives you a set number of calories you’re supposed to be eating, then that’s not max what you should be eating, that’s the absolute minimum calories your body needs to continue functioning.

By overestimating my calorie consumption, I’m doing more damage to my body than underestimating. If I eat 200 more calories a day than what I should be, then whoops. I’m not going to burn body fat as fast as I should. And I’m not going to be seeing the numbers drop on the scale as rapidly as I had hoped.

But by overestimating, I’m not getting the calories that I need. My body is going into starvation mode. Which means that every time I go to put food in my mouth, it’s not sending those nutrients where they need to go to make sure I’m gaining lean muscle and washing away the toxins while burning fat from my system. Instead, my body is going into panic mode and thinking oh my god … food! I don’t know when this is coming by again! I have to store this … now! Where!? Fat … store it in fat cells. Reserved energy. Yes. Perfect.

Which is the exact opposite of what I want my body to do. 

I’m no fitness expert, I’m not a trained professional, I didn’t go to school for nutrition, but I did take a nutrition class and one of the things that my nutrition professor drilled into our heads was that eating was the absolute best thing we could do for our bodies, and that everything was good for you in moderation. Everything, people. Everything. Your body will survive a slice of pizza, or dare I say, a Big Mac. What it won’t survive is you punishing yourself for eating that pizza or Big Mac the next day by eating absolutely nothing to balance out the calories. Sometimes, you need the guilty pleasures to feed your soul. Just continue your day as normal, work out, and go back to eating as clean as possible. 

But above all, don’t sell yourself short. Make sure that if you’re counting calories, you know exactly how much you’re putting into your body.

Please be careful though, start to associate things with how big your handful is, how many of those little packets is a teaspoon. By continuously measuring out and weighing your food, you could (note could, not will) develop a disordered eating pattern. Don’t get addicted to your scale. Enjoy life away from it every now and then, specifically with fruits and veggies. <3