I Woke up in a Trash Can

Yesterday morning was a typical Monday morning. I woke up, took a shower, and shoved half a pb&j sammy down my throat as I walked out the door. Just like any other day, the metro is experiencing delays so by the time I'm able to get on a train, we're all packed in like sardines. Thankfully, those surrounding me had remembered to wear deodorant.

Side rant: I'm 5'2"/5'3" ish. The metro is not designed for people of my height. If all of the seats are taken (which they always are) then I'm left with few options. Typically, I hang onto the pole overhead that is just barely out of reach and completely useless for stabilizing me as I'm just swinging about for the 12 minute commute. In addition, I'm almost always standing next to some asshole who thinks it's a good idea to read the newspaper which pokes me in the eye for the entire trip. I digress...

So by the time I get to work, I'm already queasy and sweaty. But this is typical for a DC summertime commute. Really. By 10:30, it feels like there is an ocean inside of my stomach and I can't stop burping. Super ladylike. All of the sudden I'm freezing cold and then five minutes later I want to rip all of my clothes off and lie naked on the floor. Remembering that my niece was just recently sick, I decide to give my sister a call to see how she's feeling.

Sure as shit, she's home sick and not five minutes after I hung up with her, I threw up twice, passed out and woke up in a trash can. Apparently, I tried to aim for the recycle bin while sitting in my chair and at some point during my pukefest, I passed out and landed with my head literally in the trash can. I woke up on the floor and all I could see was black. "WHERE THE EFF AM I?!" It actually took me a couple seconds to figure out what happened and why it was so dark. My coworkers (bless their souls) escorted me to the ladies room and I eventually caught a cab (who didn't mind my recycle bin buddy riding along) home.

obviously went with a filter to make myself look slightly less awful

I spent all day in bed moaning and groaning and not eating a thing. You guys, I didn't even feel up to watching The Bachelorette finale, that's how bad it was. This is the first time I've ever had the stomach flu and oh em gee I hope it was the last. 

It's officially been just over 24 hours and all I've had is a coffee frappuccino from Starbucks. Weighed myself this morning and I'm down to 133 lbs. Hell yeah! Silver lining!

Tone It Up

Two weeks ago I started on a fitness journey that has proven to be pretty eye opening. I started Tone It Up's Bikini Series Nutrition and Workout Plan. Spend two minutes on their website and you'll want to do anything it takes to look like the trainers, Karena and Katrina. I'm currently in the 130s and would be dreaming love if I could get down to 115 lbs. I have just two problems. I love food and I hate working out. No big deal, right?

Wrong. This is hard work. Like really hard. Like math class hard. It's a mental battle just as much a physical one. I kid you not, someone brought in doughnuts to work the other day and for 7.5 painstaking hours, I had to tell myself over and over and over and over and over that I did not need that doughnut and that I did not want that doughnut. But I did want it! I wanted it so bad! I would have offered up my unborn child for that doughnut. I made it through those 7.5 hours and then went home to egg whites and my second workout of the day.

Flash forward to day 18 of my Tone It Up journey. It was a shitty day at work on top of a shitty week at work and some asshole brought in homemade chocolate chip cookies the size of my face. I lasted all goddamn day and then at 3pm I caved and ate it. It was so good. It was moist and chocolatey and everything I could have ever asked for. Almost immediately I felt this overwhelming guilt. And by the time I got home I was starving and told myself "Eff it!" I've already cheated, might as well go out with a bang! So I made a huge plate of Step Brother's nachos and went to town. Then I topped that off with a couple pieces of bread and butter and a handful of cocoa nibs. On top of all of that, I didn't do my PM workout and I didn't wake up for my AM workout. I was a TRAIN WRECK. And then I took a step back and was SHOCKED.

How could food have this much power over me? Seriously, I was willing to sell my soul to the devil for a doughnut. And then one cookie sent me into a binge eating session. What the hell? I mean I know I love food but I didn't know I had an emotional relationship with food! This sounds like some Jerry Springer shit.

I've recovered from my binge and I'm currently munching on some cashews with visions of Sweet Green's Guacamole Greens Salad dancing in my head. I say all of that to say this: this "fitness journey" I'm on is going to do more than just help me lose weight (hopefully). It's going to test my will power. It's going to sever my emotional relationship with food - to which I say "good riddance!" I don't want to be controlled by anything. I want to be the one in control of my life. I'm sure this won't be the last time I go nuts and eat everything I'm not supposed to, but at least it won't be uncharted territory at that point.

Follow my Tone It Up journey on my TIU instagram page!