How Did This Happen?

It's January, which means it's time for my annual "starting a new diet" post. Except that this year, I find myself in almost uncharted territory. If I were a product on sale, it would be a good thing: bigger than ever! New, larger size! Everything I own, and I do mean everything, is too tight. I got on the scale last week and saw a number I usually associate with a college football player or heavyweight fighter (for the first time ever, I can add losing enough to fight welterweight to my goals). I know I've been enjoying some indulgences lately, but how did this happen?

In my defense, lying around for months with a broken ankle didn't help matters much. If you're supposed to feed a cold and start a fever, the modus operandi at the Stancil house was to gorge a broken bone. I can't believe that a huge bowl of Lucky Charms for breakfast, fast food for lunch, and takeout for dinner could contribute to obesity. I refuse to accept that Chick-fil-a, very aptly dubbed "Christian chicken" by my friend Jen, can make you fat. And the fact that the texture of my thighs now closely resembles waffle fries is just a strange coincidence. Plus, I had to eat ice cream whether I wanted it or not: for the calcium (duh).


Then came Christmas--well, really the entire jolly month of December. There's no better way to celebrate Jesus's birthday than with copious amounts of holiday treats and goodies. 'Tis the season for eggnog, after all. I enjoyed more than my fair share of Little Debbie Christmas Tree Cakes, sparkling cider, red velvet cake, Christmas cookies, and more...but Christmas calories don't count, do they? No, no, that can't have been the cause of this situation.

Once January rolled around, Clint and I realized the predicament we were in. As my willing accomplice nurse, it seems that my hubby has also eaten his way into uncomfortable territory. We vowed to eat clean, train mean...whatever those motivational health and fitness things say. But we had another obstacle: the college football national championship game (have I mentioned that Clemson WON?! Sorry, I couldn't resist). I'd like to point out that we did watch the game with a veggie tray, but you cannot expect game winning at the highest level of play if you are cheering with a celery stick. And so, because we are real fans, we also had buffalo chicken dip and pizza rolls. You know, because it's protein.

There was one more diet derailer lurking this month: snow. As much as we tried, one simply cannot eat rabbit food when there is snow on the ground (never mind that the forecasters got it all wrong and we only wound up with an inch accumulation barely dusting our yard). We went to the store for healthy snacks, and came home with white chocolate macadamia nut cookies and Chex Mix instead. I'm convinced it was our survival instincts that kicked in, but regardless, we had a weekend of Netflix and nosh. I wish I could say that with some semblance of regret, but I'm not that caliber of an actress.


I stepped out of the shower the other night and realized I look like a celebrity. Just not the right celebrity.

Yikes--or as my now-body-double would say, ay caramba. Without a doubt, it's time to take some action. I started the Advocare 24-Day Challenge this week, as a much needed jump start to get me back on track. As much as I love mail,  have to admit opening this package gave me little to no joy in my life:

I've got vitamins and probiotics and meal replacement shakes. What I don't have is processed food, white flour, or (gasp) Diet Coke. For a girl who hates fruit, enjoying a delicious orange as a snack feels a bit like punishment, but then again, so does trying to button my pants, so citrus it shall be. We've only been at it for a few days, but we've already learned some valuable lessons, like maybe cleaning out the cabinet and eating a crunchy taco kit the night before doing burpees at Crossfit is a bad idea (Clint), or never drinking anything labeled "Fiber Drink" and expecting to have a productive morning (sadly, me).

I've got two more weeks of "restricted activity" with my ankle, so until my doctor gives any kind of impact cardio the clear, I'll be pedaling my stationary bike from here to Timbuktu (and back again). Hopefully, the scale has no where to go but down and I'll be able to button my winter coat again before the weather warms up. And to all the delicious but diet-deadly food out there calling my name, I have but one thing to say: