Hi. It’s Trice. I have been so bad these last three days, it aint even funny. First of all, don’t start a new, dare I say, diet, without food shopping first. You set yourself up for all kinds of disasters. I’ve been eating garbage all week-french fries, a half smoke, cheez curlz. Hold up! Don’t I get credit for eating organic cheez curlz? I should. They’re bland as hell. They’re only good for the crunch factor. One thing I can say: I haven’t had a soda in two whole days. That’s like two weeks in Trice years. I’m on a streak. I’ve drank a bottle of water a day. That’s like a liter in Trice years. Give me some credit dammit! I’m weak. I’m struggling. I’m losing something alright. I’m losing my damn mind!
As far as exercise is concerned, I’m a day late and a dollar short. I did not work out Monday as planned. I can give you a thousand and one excuses, but they are just that-excuses. I did start yesterday, and I damn near died! I’m doing Jillian Michaels’ 30 Day Shred. It’s three, 20 minute workouts, and when I tell you that that 20 minutes felt like 20 hours, I am not exaggerating! You may think 20 minutes aint jack, but for someone who is relatively inactive, it really feels like an hour. I was sweating buckets! My heart rate averaged about 150 which is great. My body aches, which is a good sign. I do my workouts in the evening. One, it really helps me unwind from my day, and two, it really prepares my body for a great, deep sleep. I just need to go to sleep a little earlier.
I’m dying to see how Myia’s post will read. I think she’s been as bad as I’ve been. We’re sisters, but I think there’s a secret competition going on between us. Later, gators!
Check out the two fat, black chicks on Christmas. Guess who’s whom?
Hi. My name is Trice, and I’m a fat, black chick! We did our weigh-in and measurements today, and all I could think to myself was Holy Sh*t, I really am fat! I’ve gained 4 pounds since January, and for those of you thinking that’s not so bad, that’s a freaking pound a month, which for my height, 5’1, looks like 5 pounds a month. The black dial sprung up to 187. One-eight-seven is cop and gang slang for murder. It shouldn’t be a 5-foot woman’s weight! What the hell have I done to my body? I am what doctors would call clinically obese. When I think of obese, I think of the mother in What’s Eating Gilbert Grape, not me. I don’t look that big, do I? Yeah, I do. When I looked in the mirror, every roll, every stretch mark, every bulge was magnified times 10. This is it! I’m diving into the dare I say it Diet Pool. No! I won’t say diet. I hate that word. It looks like Die-T, as in Die Trice! I aint going out like this! I will say I’m changing my life for the better. I’ll say I’m making better food choices. I’ll say I’m strengthening my body and my mind. Here I go!