Hi, I'm Elly.
I have embarked on a journey from couch potato princess to fitness queen, but I just started last week. Nothing has really happened yet. I will be posting weekly blogs and once a month, I will be sharing my measurements and progress photos (warning: those with sensitive eyes may need to look away!) I'm not aware of too many fitness success stories where I got to watch the actual evolution of someone who lost a lot of weight or got into really good shape. Maybe there are good reasons not to share your ups and downs with the world, but I'm ignoring those, if they even exist. I'm either brave enough or stupid enough to let you all know how I'm doing, while I'm doing it. Cheer me on, empathize with me, not-so-secretly hope for my demise, do what you will. I'm putting it all out there, in the hope that someone will identify with a real woman who is living a real life, and trying to whip the old earth suit into shape while all of this realness is going on. (Another warning: no one is more merciless towards me than I am, I apologize in advance if the self-deprecation reaches toxic levels. I will try really hard to be more funny than mean to me).
So...how did I get here? I turned 30....um, awhile ago. My blessed metabolism failed me. I could no longer consume mass quantities of donuts with impunity. In fact, everything I ate stayed with me. I gained 30 lbs. This is not the most weight I have gained in my life, but those other pounds were associated with pregnancy, or the prevention thereof. I am 5'6", I have a medium-med/small frame when I weigh 125lbs (this is optimal weight). I will never ever have Kate Moss's thighs. I have a booty, not a butt--this was true even in high school when I was supertwiggy. I'm okay with these details. Now, these 30 pounds have distributed themselves from head to toe, so everyone who loves me says wonderful things like, "you don't look like you weigh 154.6 lbs!" Let me assure you, the scale is brand new and it isn't lying--I even got a 2nd opinion. That is indeed what I weigh. I have a tattoo of a creepy doll on the inside of my arm--even she's put on a few! But let's face it: this is about more than my weight, or looks, or self-esteem. Two things are more important: my long-term health and the kind of role model I am for my daughter. I have been talking and talking and talking and...(Brad, Anna, Jenna, Lianna, Marci, Casey--I'm nominating all of your ears for sainthood). Less talk, more do. So I did. This blog is the story of my doing. Thank you for reading.