A year ago, I looked like this:
and like this:
Recently, I've been looking like this:
Ok, fine...I look like this right now...
*Shudder*....But this is a new year and it's going to be a new me, I swear. I say it every year but this time, I have a BLOG and a real plan. So now I have to stick to it.
The truth is, one day, my mom mentioned that I was getting fat. It wasn't anything new because she always tells me that when I'm gaining weight. "If I can't be honest with you then who will?" she would say. Bless her. But I was comfortable and besides, Brent, my boyfriend--the type of guy that can eat his way through a dozen malasadas and not gain a single ounce, said he loves me just the same even if I did get bigger. I knew that he meant well and that he wanted to cheer me up but I didn't know how to take these comments, so I went to the gym a few times till I eventually got lazy again. I should have seen the signs.
I noticed that my 6ft tall, 220lb brother was losing weight and I was starting to close the gap between our traditional 100lb weight-difference. So I went running once or twice.
Then my co-workers, who also doubled as my gym-buddies started asking me when I was going to join them at the gym again. We all went running and I nearly died of exhaustion.
I think my boyfriend was trying to tell me something when he started squeezing my stomach into a donut-shape and called me "Mocha-chubbins." I knew that he was joking and that he did it to bug me but it start to make me think.
Then it happened. I took a good look at recent pictures of myself. I was surprised that no one came out with a banner that said "INTERVENTION" painted in red and a shoe box full of letters explaining to me why fat-Sascha was a bad Sascha.
My intervention counsellor came in the form of my mom's 60-something year old friend named, Ken-san. He runs the Honolulu Marathon every year (the sixth largest of it's kind, by the way) in less than five hours. A week before the marathon, he asked if I was serious about running the marathon. He told me that I had youth going for me and that if I had a year to train, I should easily be able to run faster than him. Before I knew it, I was the new owner of a pair of Nike Hawaii exclusive marathon shoes from the Honoulu Marathon Expo, and I was ready to go. Ken-san succeeded in something that my mother, brother, boyfriend and friends could not--motivate me.
My Christmas presents reflected my current ambition and it was clear to see that everyone was being extemely supportive. I secretly think everyone felt guilty about neglecting me and letting me live in denial. I got an Ipod nano (with a pedometer and fitness setting), a Nintendo Wii (for my in-house workouts), a book for runners, exercise index cards and leg weights.
Now that it's January, it's definitely crunch time. Starting tomorrow (since today's entry was just an intro), I'll record everything from my weight, measurements, diet (or lack thereof), workout and comments from the Peanut Gallery. I know that if I think that I've got till December, I'll wait until November to get in shape so instead, I'm going to work towards "checkpoints." The first will be my birthday. I plan to lose my first 2kg (4.5lb) by January 23. By the way, my weight will be in kilos since my weight scale goes by such and besides, I'd rather not see it in pounds.
Feel free to comment, make sugestions and scold me if I go off track. Tomorrow, Jermaine (my co-worker and self-proclaimed Spartan) plans to put me through a rigorous workout plan. All he texted me was "Get ready for an extreme workout! Pack your shoes and clothes and bring plenty of water! Tomorrow is focused on building endurance!! You can do this!"
Why do I feel like I'm going to die tomorrow?
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