Wednesday, March 01, 2017

Journey To Di Road: Day 1 | A Healthy Jaded Series

My fellow's been a minute. With apps like Instagram and Snapchat, I just felt this communication platform outliving its usefulness. Until now.

But first, we dance.

So remember a couple years back how excited I was to play mas on the parkway, only to have my dreams snatched by the Sesame Flyers Mas Camp who never made my costume, even though I paid in full with 650 American dollars? No? Well, that was a thing. And it broke my heart. I worked out. I ate as well as I could. I was beyond excited at the thought of being IN a parade. And when it didn't happen, I cried bitter tears in my room before just going to the beach and trying to put it out of my mind. I haven't been to a socacize class since then, partly because my spirits were dampened and partly because I needed distance from that whole world.

This year, the West Indian Day Parade is turning 50. It's a huge thing. With two years separating me from my major humiliation, which I shall call COSTUME-GATE, I'm ready to try again (with a different camp, of course. Sesame Flyers is DEAD TO ME FOR LIFE, YO!). But one thing stands between me and the skimpiest of bedazzled, be-feathered bikinis: I currently weigh in at a whopping 225lbs.

Not even I'm ready for this jelly...

Yes, my dears, your girl has given in to anxiety and eaten herself unhealthy. A flight of stairs finds me desperately out of breath. Any attempt at previous levels of cardio exertion causes weird irregular heartbeats. Bending over to tie my shoes is incredibly difficult and painful. Even yoga has become a chore for me, as any flexibility and strength I ever had has disappeared under 55lbs of fat. FIFTY-FIVE-MOTHER-FUCKING-POUNDS. I should be taken out back and horsewhipped.

Because I know this is not me, this is not my comfortable, happy size, I've decided to use the Labor Day festivities as a catalyst to get me back in the gym and back under a better eating plan. I have to keep my focus on NOT becoming a diabetic and NOT having a weight-induced heart attack and NOT developing high blood pressure, all things prevalent in my family. I don't want my last days to be peppered with doctor appointments and a trough of medications. And if vanity is the way to get me motivated, then dammit, let's do this!


  • Breakfast: mangu, salami, queso frito, scrambled eggs
  • Lunch: 2 tacos (one fish, one grilled chicken), chips, guac, seltzer
  • Victories: took my supplements/vitamins; did not have candy from the work snack drawer (had an apple instead); actually wrote this blog
  • WOMP Moments: didn't go to the gym; drank coffee to wake up; didn't drink enough water; don't have solid plans for dinner.

My meals have been...not the best and I didn't go to the gym this morning after a low-grade anxiety attack prevented me from leaving the house. My plans for after-work gym time is not looking likely, either, because I can feel that anxiety attack creeping up on me as I type this; I've opted, instead, to walk home, briskly, as my physical activity for the day. I will meal prep tonight for tomorrow. I will get to bed- not my sofa, but my actual bed- by midnight. That's all I can muster right now.

But check back daily as I document this experience, YET AGAIN, through September.

Also, welcome back.

* old friends and new*
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