Masala Bhangra and Abs/Back Workout via Exercise TV On-Demand

Big, fat, BEAUTIFUL ouch on this one. I feel great. The treadmill seemed far too monotonous, so I opted to dance myself "skinny". I despise running/walking, 1) when it doesn't involve softball/baseball, and 2) when I'm not in shape. Not that I intend to never set foot on the damn thing, I promise I will--just wasn't my cup tonight. After my workout, I chugged 10 oz. of Orange Cream Muscle Milk. Hooray for protein! I was a bad girl and had only two meals today (got distracted and didn't even think about breakfast--completely out of character for me). I refuse to beat myself up over it, so here's to a better tomorrow.

I heart dancing, so I think I'm gonna keep this one up for a while. Bollywood arms!

Okay, friends--short and sweet, but an update's an update, right? Have a great night.

Namaste.

Why we're opening up about it

We're over it, that's why. It's a cycle we've repeated one too many times: we eat healthy, work out, lose weight, lose motivation, lose confidence, then gain it all back. And it's because we feel no one knows what we're up to that we start to believe it's okay to fall off the wagon. It's not. We're ashamed, and we're here to admit it.

There was a time when I, Resa, loved the camera, was great at sports/in shape and had so much confidence I thought the world was in my hands. 10 years later, I can't even stand to look at myself in the mirror. I married a man who treats me like I'm the only woman in his world and tells me he loves and accepts me, despite the weight gain and moodswings. Taking advantage of it was the easiest route, and now I'm paying for it.

My mother told me yesterday that her doctor said there was nothing more he can do to help control her diabetes--it's all in her hands. I hate that modern medicine can only go so far, but I get it. The result of her potential negligence? Blindness. My mom, my rock, hasn't even seen the world. No Yosemite, no Niagara Falls, no Holy Land (her dream), and already the doctor is telling her she'll go blind if she doesn't help herself. I can maaaybe imagine living a life while deaf, but to live a life in darkness is something I'd only wish upon my worst enemy (since I'm being honest). Except for giving up rice 100%, my mom is otherwise very well-disciplined. She doesn't know what else to do. I pleaded and pleaded with her to listen to every doctor's order. It was then that I realized I was in no position to tell her how to better care for herself--not if I can't do the same. Let's not forget the fact that the diabetic could be ME in a few years, if not next week. I am terrified.

If you're reading this now it's because you're one of few people we've invited to witness our journey. We figured if we had an audience, we'd be less likely to fail. Sure sure, we have each other, but, call it strange, the problem is that we have each other. Together, we've reached a level of comfort that's proven to be...not-so-comforting. Together, we've learned to justify eating the cheeseburger that really isn't a cheeseburger if we get it wrapped in lettuce. Together, we've been known to let one cheat as long as the other can, too. The upside to this is that, together, we know we're wrong and are willing to do something about it.

Join us, poke fun, be critical, be skeptical...whatever. We know what we need to do--and we're gonna lay it all out for you right here.

Thanks for reading, friends. Wish us luck.

~Resa