As a girl growing up in Jamaica, I was raised by two loving albeit incredibly structured parents and one had no choice to follow the edicts in our house at all times. We were not ever allowed to be out on the streets with our friends past 5 p.m. obnoxious behavior was not tolerated, manners had to be impeccable at all times and T.V. was severely limited. The three free options ( at least in my mind) that I had were reading,music and cooking. … So I became an expert at all three. Today, I am having a discussion around one.
It is good. I mean really, really good. I LOVE to cook.
I also despise mediocre food as a result and will move heaven and earth to find decent fare, no matter the cost. At the tender age of ( mind your business) it has all caught up with me. I have been in the gym for the last 8 months working diligently on shaving off all the excess that I added with said cooking and fancy restaurants. It is hard work, I am constantly sore and although I have lost well over twenty pounds thus far, it feels like I am moving nowhere quickly.
After a hellacious routine in the gym this morning, I have finally had it and will be in a full-scale war with my caloric intake. To work this hard and not put the same amount of effort into what I am giving my body for fuel is the definition of insanity. I have done well up to this point. I can do better.
You may not see me eating a burger anywhere but if you catch me putting anything in my mouth that is suspect at best, say nothing and just remove it from my hands. I mean it. Pay no attention if you get the evil eyeball from me as a direct result. My heart, lungs and over all physique will thank you long-term.
So calories, move over because I am taking control of you before you completely take over me.
Failure, is not an option.