"I just want my pants to fit.  In one motion, I want to be able to slide, zip, button.  Without having to do lunges and squats.  Without waiting for 2 o'clock when they've stretched out enough to have circulation return."  That was me two years ago.

Let me back up.  I was a sugar junkie as a kid.  I mean, I lived for Little Debbies and Oreos.  "Fun" cereal was expected and savored.   4 kids and thirty-some years later, I was in shock as to why I had gained 8 pounds in a year.  Really?!  My husband informed me that my "teenage boy" diet just possibly might could maybe be the reason.  He was right.  But I was not into anything green so I came up with the 'perfect' plan.  I know, I'll just eat fewer calories and exercise more.  So I told myself 1700 calories seemed like a good number and I got on that treadmill like it was my job.  So now I could add cranky and tired to my list of self-complaints (though I did "save" enough calories for Lucky Charms for my nighttime snack....magically delicious indeed).

Then I met a girl named Emily.  She changed my life.  A 180.  The kind of change that broke me down to my core and even made me shed tears.  She said she could help me slide, zip and button those jeans and even do it without starving.  It almost sounded like an infomercial except her physique proved it could be done.  She was sweet enough to share her wisdom with me about exercising SMARTER not longer.  She told me to eat MORE (oh, that's the best news ever). 

I'll be honest, when she told me what I had to start eating, I cried.  Tears running down my face, as if facing some kind of death sentence.  And it was a death sentence.  It was dying to self.  Dying to addiction to twinkies and chips.  Could I do it?  Would I do it?  Was the need for change going to outweigh the challenge?  The next day I committed.  I don't know what ground turkey is but I guess I'll find out.  Where do they sell oat bran?!

The other side of the body-change coin was exercise.  I'd taken Pilates, Body Pump, done some nautilus weight machines.   Emily told me to do all kinds of weighted exercises with dumbbells.  What, in the MAN section of the gym?!  No girls in pink are allowed back there!  I tiptoed back there, of course off to the side hoping to never ever be noticed.  And I did the most taxing workout ever.  Sweating like no lady should.  Breathing heavy like I had just climbed the Statue of Liberty.  Could I do this?  Would I stick with this?

To be continued....