Let me explain....

Yesterday, I was struggling. Struggling with a person, their many moods, and simply put their immaturity. I have this person in my life, who I can't avoid. I'm stuck with them until they decide to un-stick themselves from my life. At first I REALLY didn't like this person.

So I prayed about it. Hard. I prayed about this person. I prayed about me. I prayed about the forced relationship and the situation as a whole. I prayed about it every night until I could finally leave it at Gods feet. And then I found peace about this person. I found that even though I still didn't particularly care for this person, I was able to "make the most" of the situation. I was able to manage as positive of a situation as possible with this person. I was able to stop my angry ranting about this person. I was able to find base respect for this person even though I had no respect for their behavior, words, or lifestyle choices. I was no longer bothered by every single thing this person did. And when something did slightly irk me, I found myself just lifting this person up in prayer, and again leaving it at Gods feet.

It took probably 9-10 months to get to that point with this person. When I say this person is my prickly person, I mean it. This person was put in my life to challenge me, and they did. But God knew what he was doing, because in response to this irritating, difficult, and annoying "challenge" (person), I grew. I learned. And although I'm not particularly proud of how *I* behaved in the beginning (when this person initially arrived in my life I sunk just as low as them), I am proud of how I have turned it around and where I am now when it comes to my "handling" of this "situation."

I have recognized a lot about this person that has helped me process them and deal with them.

- To begin with, I have recognized that they have a diagnosed mood disorder. I have also recognized that although they are on medication for that disorder(s), it doesn't make the disorder go away. And having had a father who struggles with mental illness, and myself struggling with depression, my heart goes out to this person. Because I somewhat understand the struggle of when your mood is completely out of your control.

- I have also recognized that this is the first time this person has lived away from home. And that in and of itself comes with a whole host of issues/hurdles for some people (I personally loved moving away from home, but that was because my home life was toxic and I was ready for that level of independence).

- I have also recognized that this person is very young. Which also means a level of immaturity, self-righteousness, entitlement, attitude, and a belief that one is always right.  That in and of itself is a difficult person to work with, let alone when you consider the other factors at play.

- I have also recognized (because this person said so in more vulgar terms to a supervisor) that they hate their job and can't wait to get out of here. Initially, it's easy to bristle up at that, to be defensive, to say "well then quit!" But having been in a situation where I, myself, was in a job that I hated, I understand that it's just not that easy sometimes. You have to herd all the cats of your life into a line first before you can quit. And that takes a lot of time. And a lot of faith.

When all of these factors are combined, you can see why this person is difficult. They would be difficult to anyone, and trust me when I say: this person IS a difficult person to EVERYONE that comes into contact with them.  You can also see why they're miserable. Their life is a soup of rotten, toxic ingredients. And that breaks my heart. I don't want anyone to have to experience that -- and I say that because I've been there!

With that very long explanation somewhat completed, you can understand the complexity of this person and their situation. And I wanted that complexity noted so that when I say that I found a peace towards this person, you can also understand why that took 9-10 months to attain.

Yesterday, this particular person was in another one of their moods. These moods are not alien to us. Remember - mood disorder. We've been dealing with their roller coaster moods for the past year.  However, we didn't let this persons mood affect our personalities. We continued being ourselves around them and towards them. Polite. Friendly. Periodically talkative. Periodically quiet. We attempted to engage them  in conversation, and received 1-2 word responses before they turned their back to us. We didn't push this person. But we didn't exclude or ignore them either.

I have decided that since they were miserable, they believed we should be miserable with them. And they didn't like that we weren't cooperating with that plan. So they began to stop working with us. They began to further isolate themselves. They continued to circle down their own drain and refused to let us help them. We continued being ourselves. This made them more and more mad and frustrated. So they turned to social media. And on their public social media page, posting language I won't repeat in a way that made it seem as if it were aimed at us.

I wish I were making this up.

I don't follow this person on social media because all they post is vulgarity, judgment, negativity, and "I'm never wrong" attitudes. Frankly, I don't want or need that kind of negativity in my life. So I didn't know about this post until someone else showed it to me.

I know that this person posted it trying to affect us. Trying to bring us down. Trying to start a conflict. Trying to manipulate us so that they can paint us in a bad light.

But I also know who I am. I am strong in my identity. I am strong in my love for others. I am able to turn the other cheek and continue being who I am. And although such a post with such language certainly got under my skin (no one wants to be called that), I was able to recognize it for what it was.

So last night my heart was bothered about this post and this person. I didn't understand why politeness and friendliness was responded to in such a way. I still don't understand why this person continues to isolate themselves from what is a great work environment with great co-workers. But if they hate the job, I can see the barrier to doing so.  So I did what I've always done -- I called my mom and talked it out. Then I prayed about it last night. I left it at Gods feet.

And this morning -- I woke up SO refreshed. My heart was full to bursting with gratitude. I woke up praying thanks for each blessing that I could think of when I got to them. I woke up happy, fully of joy, full of peace. Again, strong in knowing who I am and what I stand for.  Strong in knowing that I treat no one differently - even those who I find difficult. I was able to shake my head and feel sorry for this person instead of feeling righteous anger towards them.

My God is a great God. And he is so good. And I am so thankful for him and his relationship with me.

Injured, Blues, Yoga, and a New Outlook

So two weeks ago, I got by a dog while trying to break up a dog fight. The dog that bit me was mine, and bless his sweet heart, he didn't mean to at all. I just happened to step between two fighting dogs at the EXACT moment my dog decided to lunge (again). But it was a real bite, with puncture wounds just above my knee. Not a bad place to get bit since I have plenty of fat there. LoL. So that meant an immediate trip to Urgent Care. Two weeks later and I'm still recovering -- there is still intermittent bleeding. Still bruising. Still some soreness.  Still some infection. Still some swelling. Which means that my routine has been completely destroyed since I had to quit my high intensity/high impact workouts. Even walking for any length of time has been a challenge. But I couldn't stand doing NOTHING. So I have taken this opportunity to finally engage in a yoga practice.

And let me just say... It has been quite an experience. I always sturggled with making yoga a part of my routine because of its slow pace. I lost patience (and thus interest) so quickly. But since it was largely my only option for exercise during my recovery, I gave it another go. Starting slow with "beginner flows" on YouTube that lasted only 20 mins. And ever since I've started and done a nightly yoga practice.... I have felt so EMOTIONAL. So CREATIVE. I want to write again. I feel like I have something bubbling up inside me that is screaming to be said -- I just don't know what it is yet.

But it's been a long time since I've felt this sure of who I am. Since I've wanted to explore, adventure, go, do. Once again, I find myself wanting to be outside, moving. I want to connect with this world that I live in -- hike, kayak, etc. I want to go to local festivals. I want to sit on the patio and blog (doing it right now). I know; it doesn't seem like a big deal. But for so long I have felt so disconnected with myself. I've felt disjointed. Not sure of who I am. I've been in this place for a long time -- which has lead to depression and anxiety that has hit me of varying degrees for the last four years.

And yoga is helping to put my pieces back together. I can't expres the amount of joy that brings me...

In high school and college, I considered myself a bit of a hippie -- I loved outdoorsy activities, I wasn't concerned too much with appearances, I loved simple pleasures, I loved to read, I loved to write, I loved multicultural experiences. And somewhere along the way I lost that identity and didn't know what my identity had become.  Add in financial stress (being broke broke broke), career confusion (didn't go to PT school, ended up in PTA school, ended up working in a place I didn't love, ended up in a totally different career), getting married, marital problems, and every day life -- it was a recipe for disaster. And a disaster it was.

But in the last two months, I've done a few things differently. A few things for myself.

I started working out regularly and trying to eat better. This has its ups and downs as far as success goes. But it's always surprising to me how much BETTER I feel when I'm eating right and exercising daily. If only the unhealthy stuff didn't taste so darn good!!

I joined a local quilt guild. This was a huge step for me. I did this without knowing anyone in the guild. I was unsure of how I would be recepted or if the guild was friendly or not. But to have something that is mine and mine only -- wow. And to have met some lovely ladies so far that I hope will become friends -- wow. If I had known it would have made such a big difference, I would have done it a long time ago!

And just recently I started my yoga practice. Which has opened up parts of me that I've ignored for so long. The emotional, creative, expressive side of me. It's reminded me that at my core I am a hippie and that I need to just be that.

I can't say that I'm out of my blues yet. But I can say that I haven't felt this good in YEARS. I'm at peace with my twisted career path. I'm at peace with my unsightly weight gain (nearly 50lbs). I am at peace with my life. And because I have this peace, I can have joy and enjoyment. I'm no longer dreaming and wishing I had a different life. Instead, I'm realizing that my life is awesome, even in its struggles. I'm okay. My life is okay. I'm going to be okay. My life is going to be okay. And that brings tears to my eyes because I actually believe it.

I'm enjoying getting back in touch with my creative/expressive side. It's obviously rusty, but I'm going to enjoy the struggle...

Price of Quilting

I love to learn about quilting, and I am loving learning how to quilt. I'm loving discovering the artistry of manipulating fabric and cuts and stitching to create a piece of art. I'm loving the fellowship I'm discovering in my local quilt guild as I pursue learning this craft. I love perusing pinterest and etsy and instagram, admiring techniques and blocks and quilts and color schemes and visual effects. Marveling at the skill, creativity, and artistry employed.

I love knowing that I'm starting this hobby, this skill, at a very young age compared to so many. I love thinking that because of this, I will be able to at some point be as good of a quilter as my grandmother and my aunt.

I love knowing that my interest and my participation is helping to preserve a lost art. One that is completely under-appreciated and misunderstood by modern society.

I have been approached by a few friends and family members, asking if I could make something (specific) for them. I have always been extremely fair in my price quotes.  Actually -- I've been unfair to myself in these quotes. In these quotes, when I work out the total, I don't even make the minimum hourly wage.  And even with that consideration, the prices always shock the friend or family. They never follow through because of the price. And I understand. It's expensive. Quilts are priceless, and even when a price is put on them, they are almost never properly priced out when both creative time and labor time are considered.

I was browsing esty earlier today and was so relieved to see that there are some people who are asking appropriate prices for quilts...

For example, this Strip Quilt $537. This isn't even a complicated quilt! It's literally just strips sewn together with a clever color scheme, mimicking an ombre effect. There is no complicated piecing or cutting or squaring. I was so so so pleased at the price! Because it's APPROPRIATE. She isn't short changing herself.

And this beautiful art quilt in a beach landscape motif, roughly 2ft square. $275. The intricacy with the quilting and the fabric layering... APPROPRIATELY PRICED.

And this primitive style rag quilt, queen size, $395. I have literally made a quilt in this style (mine is twin size). And that is a VERY reasonable price for the amount of work involved in this quilt!

But then I see listings like this one.... A beautiful drunkards path quilt, queen size. This quilt is GORGEOUS. But it's also a very complicated quilt. A lot of measuring, cutting, piecing, sewing, squaring up.  And it breaks my heart that this very talented artist is short changing her artistry by only charging $285.  This quilt is easily worth over $1,100 in my opinion.  But this master fabric artist would never be able to sell it for that price. No one in our culture would pay. Because no one understands the time, work, heart and soul that a quilter pours into a project like this.

And that just breaks my heart.  And that drunkards path quilt is not an exception in the pricing arena. It's actually more of the norm. Etsy is wonderful for many reasons. Access. Availability. Connection. But it does a lot of damage to an artist's bottom line. A lot of times they end up lowering their prices in order to stay competitive. I know. I had to do it too. And even then, the amount of people attempting to sell their wares gets overwhelming. It's easy to get lost and forgotten and to never sell an item.

So, like many fabric artists, I've retreated away from trying to sell my items and am instead just enjoying the process of learning, growing, and creating.

#AimingForSuccess

There is nothing like a mid-night thunderstorm to make my creative juices flow. A thunderstorm is my creative aphrodisiac... I am literally sitting in my living room at midnight, all the lights in the house turned off, all the blinds open, and I am just enjoying the sound of the rain falling, the thunder rolling in the distance, and the sporadic flashes of lightning. It's the perfect time for me to reflect!

This has been such a weird week for me. My two month long fitness challenge ended on Saturday. I lost 8 pounds and 21.3 inches. Woo!! But it did more than that for me. It brought me out of a pretty dark depression (I'm pretty sure I've talked about this already). It got me moving. It got me eating right. It got me hydrated. It broke bad habits and bad relationships (with food and exercise and stress and boredom). It brought me out of a serious worth/value crisis. It gave me confidence and faith in myself.

When the challenge ended, I had every intention to just keep on trucking. But somehow, these last four days have been so... WEIRD! Although nothing has actually changed to affect my schedule, I feel like I have been busier. I feel like there is suddenly less time for me to get in my cooking and my workouts. I have been more lax about my diet, and have "enjoyed" some foods I hadn't had in a while: fried chicken, chips/dip, and ice cream.

I say "enjoyed" with quotation marks because although these foods are tasty going down, they do not sit well with me anymore!! I have spent more time in the bathroom these last four days... Shew-ee! It just affirms the work that was done in those two months and the progress that has been made. The last four days were "fun" (sort of... in the sense that it didn't "matter," except they weren't fun because of the consequences), but I'm ready to feel good again. I know I've gained some inches between bloating and improper hydration, so I'm ready for that to go down too!

I've been using a hashtag on my instagram posts, #fitforvegas. But this week particularly I've begun to realize that I need to think bigger picture than just that! This is the last year of my 20's! In December I will turn 30. I don't want it to be a case of "it's all downhill." I want it to be a case of "I finally have my life together."

My 20's have been great years. Years of experimentation. Exploration. Fun. But they have been fraught with a lack of discipline, a lack of self respect, a lack of self love. My successes in my 20s were basic successes. Such as landing a full time job with benefits. Yes, getting married and buying a home were big deals. But success is defined as more than those life events.

I want to be successful in my health. I want to be successful in my relationships - deep friendships. I want to be successful in my mental health. I want to be successful in my charity and outreach and volunteering. I want to be successful by being well read and well spoken. I want to be successful in being respected and seen as a good role model.

This little idea of improving my fitness to lose weight and look better is so petty and small minded compared to the big picture of what I want to accomplish now!

I want my life to be fraught with positivity. I want to strive to be better every day and stop settling for existence. So I'll continue my #fitforvegas hashtags. But I want to expand them to include things like #fitfor30 #fitforlife #success #aimingforsuccess or SOMETHING like that. LoL.

My first trip to the dressing room in.... 2 years?!

It's been a long time since I felt like I was worth going shopping and finding cute, stylish clothes. A long, long time. The last time I went shopping for clothes was last May, to purchase a few pair of cheap shorts from Walmart for my trip to Vegas. I knew I'd need shorts to wear, and I'd gained so much weight, none of my shorts fit. I didn't even shop for cute tops that trip -- I just stuck to my oversized tshirts for my trip.  After all; I wasn't going there trying to impress anyone. I had a husband. I was going to see the sights. And because of the weight gain, I didn't feel good in anything. So why bother with trying to find something cute? That was how I felt last year, the last time I really went clothes shopping. And does buying 3 pair of cheap shorts out of necessity count as going clothes shopping?

If it doesn't, I honestly can't tell you when the last time was that I went clothes shopping.  All of the clothes hanging in my closet right now are pretty much 2 or more years old. Which I'm pretty much okay with -- well... I"m okay with it when I don't feel like I need to look "cute". The clothes hanging in my closet are all at the level of "comfort," which pretty much means baggy, oversized, not flattering.

It has been so long since I went clothes shopping that I had literally stopped styling myself. I didn't know how to style myself with what I had. I didn't know what was "in" anymore. My clothes only perpetuated my body image issues, my body dissatisfaction, and an overall feeling of sadness and dreariness.  I didn't enjoy getting dressed.  I'd walk into my closet, sigh heavily, and stare with boredom at the same shirts and prints that had been hanging there forever.  Half of which I didn't really even like anymore, which meant half of my closet I didn't even wear.  I had my same three go-to shirts. My same single pair of jeans. My same two pair of shoes. Boring.

Last month I went to a womens conference in a nearby town. I needed that spiritual refreshment. But while there, I was surrounded by women who were so... put together. They had style. Swagger. Polish. And there I was in my same tired pants and my same tired shirts and my lackluster flat hair and basic make up. And it made me feel sad and dreary.

But then it was a rush back to work and regular routine, which is full of rushing from one thing to another with little time to think about what I was wearing. And my clothes fell to the back burner. I wasn't sure if I was ready to face the retail shopping experience. Where there is no rhyme or reason to womens sizing. I wasn't sure if I could handle walking into a store after the last seven weeks of hard work (exercise, hydration, and diet changes) to still wearing my "old" size.

The weeks passed and suddenly I realized that the next womens conference I was attending was this weekend! I wanted to feel put together at this conference. I have finally been doing the work and putting my private life back together. I've finally been taking control of my circumstances and my life. I'm no longer playing the victim. I'm standing up, stepping forward, and moving out of an area of powerlessness, depression, and self-hate. So I felt like it was time for my outward appearance to begin reflecting the work that I've been doing on the inside.

So with a two day old hormonal migraine roaring, I stepped out of my comfort zone and went shopping. I knew three pieces I wanted at minimum -- a plain black shirt that was not baggy but not tight (to match with a few skirts I haven't been able to wear), a pair of white skinny pants, and possibly a pair of jeggings.

My first stop was Cato. I used to work at Cato, and I felt like that was a safe place for me to start. Regardless of what size I'd need, they would have it since they have both misses and plus sized clothing. In addition, it's not a HUGE store which means I wouldn't get terribly overwhelmed (which is what usually happens when I go into a department store -- WHERE AM I SUPPOSED TO SHOP?! WHERE ARE MY CLOTHES?!). And because they arrange their clothes by color stories, it would be easy for me to eliminate sections of the store if I didn't care for a particular color scheme.

Despite understanding how the store was organized, I was still nervous when I walked in the door. I knew I'd lost 20 inches overall at this point, but I never really knew what size I was to begin with so I didn't know if that was enough to land me solidly on the Misses side or if I was going to be in the smallest plus size (14/16W). So I started simple -- find the black tshirt. So I pulled a few black tshirts from both sides of the store and headed to the dressing room.

Y'all!!! I can say with confidence that I am out of the plus size in clothing made of cotton (ie clothes that MOVE). :D :D :D This was so surprising to me. I tried on the XL and felt completely comfortable. I tried on the 14/16W and it looked and felt baggy, sloppy, and unflattering. I was so happy that I went back out and tried on a few more tops that were of different styles (including a button up Chambray!). And I was in the XL of all the styles I tried on. Talk about a boost in confidence!!! I walked out of that store with 3 of those tshirts in 3 different colors and am still considering going back for a few more of the pieces I tried on but didn't purchase.

Then I went to a couple other stores, feeling bolstered by my last experience. I went to Walmart where I tried on both an XL pair and a L pair of jeggings. And I can say that both sizes were comfortable. I went with the XL only because I really didn't feel like I was "worthy" yet of owning a L.

I found a pair of white SKINNY jeans. I have NEVER been able to wear or feel comfortable wearing skinny jeans! Now, I did go UP a size in these pants, but I didn't feel bad about that because I used to have to go up two or more sizes in order for my thighs to squeeze in them (and even then they were squeezed in very uncomfortably). But this time I only went up one size and my thighs were not uncomfortable at all. WHAT?!

I also found a couple of shirt dresses that I fell in love with. I also went up a size for these, but I was actually fine with that. I knew that this was not a function of me "failing," but rather a function of the material of the clothing (between my boobs and wide shoulders, shirt dresses have always had to go up one or more sizes to allow enough room for any arm movement).

I had also secretly hoped to find a new pair of jeans (my current pair are pretty much worn out at this point), but my headache was too strong at this point for me to face jeans shopping. That process usually involves me trying on 20 or more pair of pants before finally finding a pair that fits.

I am so so SO happy with how this shopping trip went. I really don't know that I could have handled it if I was still in my "old" size (not because anything's wrong with my old size, but rather because I've been working so hard to turn my life around and get healthy, I needed my hard work to pay off in ways other than just feeling better).

And while this shopping trip was a huge success and a much needed boost to my confidence, it may have also created a small monster -- now all I want to do is go to all the shops I used to love but haven't been to in years and shop shop shop.  Yeah -- my budget won't allow for that! But I want to!!!

Week 5 Weigh In Results

Just a quick update :)

Today was Measurement/Weigh In Day. I wasn't really sure where my numbers would fall today since I had a cheat night last night with Pizza and my nutrition hadn't really been on point these last couple of weeks.

But I was very pleased with my numbers:

Weight lost since Jan 1: 5.8lbs
Inches lost since last measurements (Two weeks ago): 5.3
Total Inches lost since Jan 1: 21.3

Woo hoo!! Slow and steady will win the race :)

Week 5 Reflections

Lord have mercy where has the time gone?! I am closing in on the end of Week 5 of this training challenge, which means that Month One is in the rear view mirror and we are getting close to the end of this eight week long challenge! So crazy to believe. When I was in the middle of week two and three, I didn't think this was ever going to end. LoL.

I've been slacking on my blog updates for many reasons, mostly lack of time, lack of "big" results, and lack of available technology (my computer has officially died -- UGH!). I'm currently blogging at work, which hopefully won't get me into trouble! But it's 1:36am and right at this moment, I have the available time. :)

So what do I have to share??
I guess I'll share the realizations I've had within the last week....

I am not going to have the jaw dropping physical transformation in 8 weeks that you see on Instagram all the time.

This was a big realization for me. Our world is chock full of success stories and #transformationtuesdays and #fitspo and #progresspics ... My world is definitely full of them. And between the pictures shared (by individuals who have earned their success; the trainers whose clients have reached incredible success over an unknown period of time; etc) and from reality television shows about physical and lifestyle transformations that I can't seem to stop watching -- the list goes on and on and on -- I have truly forgotten the reality of what it takes to change and lose a bunch of weight.

I'd lost sight of the struggle - physical, mental, emotional. The focus struggle (I'm focused one week, then unfocused the next). The support struggle (people always jumping in and giving their "expertise" when they have no formal education, they just happened to lose a bunch of weight) (people who don't give a flip about you succeeding and find ways to try and sabotage/tempt you).

I started this journey thinking "WOW! If I can lose the amount of weight ever week that I lost in week 1, I'll have this weight off of my body by the end of this challenge!"

LoL. How stupid. How very very stupid.
How does someone who has a four year degree in exercise and sport science actually think these things?
Because I've never been here before. I've worked with people who were already well on their way. And I look back and cringe at how I tried to help those who had just started their journeys. I treated them all with genuine love and care, my heart was in the right place. But as I've said before -- no one gets this journey unless you've done it. #fattofit ain't easy, y'all!

So as the weeks wore on during this challenge, and my weigh ins were consistently disappointing, and my measurements only showing minimal to moderate changes (after week two), I honestly became very disheartened.  And I lived in that "Is this even worth it?" mind set for a good while. I continued to train consistently. I continued to do my best (failing often) with nutrition and hydration. But the numbers rarely seemed to reflect the work I was putting in.

Then these popped up on my facebook....

And it struck me. IT HAPPENS. I'm going to have set backs. And I've had lots of them in these five weeks. I've slipped up. I've caved. I've lost focus. I've gotten busy. I've gotten lazy. I've been distracted. BUT I NEVER EVER DECIDED MY HEALTH WASN'T WORTH THE EFFORT. I wondered if the effort would ever pay off, but I never ever discounted that my health was worth this. And I realized I haven't failed. I'm living real life. I'm achieving real change. And real change takes time.

So I've finally come to peace that my transformation picture after 8 weeks will not show me from my heaviest to my pre-weight gain size. It will reflect progress. But I won't be "done." I'll never be "done," because this isn't about a short term change; this is about long term change and maintenance.

Food is not as wonderful as I used to think it was.

Yes. You read that right. I am finding fewer and fewer things that I'm "dying" to have. When I do have a true craving and fulfill it, I'm usually disappointed. It tastes fake. Heavy. Makes me feel sick. To go from this relationship I had with food:

To this current relationship I have with food:

That transformation in itself is probably the most precious change I could ever make in my life. I was slowly killing myself with my addiction to food. It truly was my only friend, who made me feel better when I was down, and was comforting when I was hurt.  Now, I see food as "ho-hum." A necessity that I enjoy (don't get me wrong!), but that now I question. I question my cravings. I question the nutrition/macros of what I want to eat and what I choose to eat. And that feels really powerful!

I am still a slave to numbers that have no standard.

I realized this one today... My favorite (and only) pair of jeans are beginning to fray on the inner thighs and the fit is beginning to be a bit looser than I enjoy.  They are not really baggy, but I'm constantly pulling my pants up! Which is a good sign usually, except that these jeans are O.L.D. and are probably just stretched out.

So the thought occurred to me that in the near future I would need to go jeans shopping. And I hate jeans shopping. Too many cuts. Too many fabric washes. Too many variations among sizes. The dressing rooms are poorly ventilated. I rarely take anyone with me because I can be at one store for hours trying on every single style/size/wash in search of the perfect pair. I usually end up sweaty, tired, and hangry.

Then the thought crossed my mind that there is a very good possibility that even after all this work and change, I could very well end up the same size as I was before or in a larger size.

Now I know that the "fashion industry" has no standards by which to determine womens sizes. That there is a huge margin of "error" between brands, cuts, and sizes. I know. I know. The number on your pants means nothing. I KNOOOOOOOOW, OKAY?! But even though we can remind ourselves of this over and over again, the fact remains -- that number in your pants affects a girl. And I can't help but be scared -- what will that number do to me? Will it discourage me and send me on a  binge? Will it leave me celebrating? Will it make me even more focused? This uncertainty makes me nervous.

And the fact that at this age we are still slaves to these numbers... The ones in our pants... The ones on the scale... It just makes me so sad. That these numbers that either tell only part of the story or none of the story still control and dictate my my emotions is a travesty.

What am I going to do after this eight week long challenge ends??

I don't have the answer to this question. But it has begun to float around in my head. This program and this group has been wonderful for me. I like being given a workout calendar that tells me what to do and when to do it. No thought required. So what will I do next? What can I realistically tackle?