As the New Year begins and we each contemplate resolutions that are often unattainable and will ultimately be undone before a groundhog looks for his shadow... I've decided to do something unconventional in L.A. I am going to talk about my real age and my real weight in hopes that I can achieve a realistic goal.
I live in a land where sample sizes reign supreme. I'm a double-digit in a town of too many twos. Now, I've learned to become quite comfortable playing the role of the buxom blonde (that was until my muffin top began to look more like a Bundt cake around the waistband of my not-so-skinny jeans). I'd have a stare down with the scale each morning. Soon, I decided to avoid eye contact all together. (Let's just say, I weighed my options, and decided just to buy a pair of bigger jeans).
I have plenty of ways to justify all the weight gain. After all, I am in my freakin' 40s... the era in which your metabolism doesn't just move out of the fast lane, but decides to take the exit to the nearest rest stop and hit the vending machine. Then there's the fact I've been sleep deprived for about five years (a side effect of getting up at 2 a.m. to be a morning television news reporter). I've also taken fertility drugs for the past two years, which sent my hormones into hysterics (and oh, baby! did I gain some weight). One other contributing factor: I am a French fry addict. I'm currently in a 12-step program, but I "waffle" every time I drive past a Chick Fil-A.
So there you have it. I am 45 days away from my 45th birthday party, and I weigh more than I have in my entire life. This is a heavy subject for me, and I know I need to fight the battle of the bulge -- but winning this fight means losing, and losing -- as we know -- is not so easy to do.
That's why I have decided to make a declaration of war, and there will be NO peace until I am back down to a size 8 (and not the "I'm-a-size-8-if-I-double-spanxs-it" but an honest to goodness size 8, with room to spare).
Now, vanity prevents me from telling you my current weight (come on, I admitted my age, isn't that enough?). But I will be honest in how much I can actually lose in the next 45 days. And although I have plenty of Beverly Hills plastic surgeons on speed dial, I promise, no tricks, no gimmicks. I am going to exercise a whole lot more and eat a whole lot less. I am going to give up the foods I love and am going to take fitness classes I sorta like (including Pilates and power yoga). I plan to hike Runyon Canyon a couple of times a week (L.A.'s best outdoor gym/dog park). And oh yes, I'm going to drink more water and fewer lattes.
Over the next 45 days, as I try to lose a little... I am hoping I can gain a lot from all of you. Please send along your diet tips, exercise programs and suggestions to help me stop dreaming of French fries. Also, I will send out a big, fat thank you to anyone who helps me get a little skinnier.