FormerFatGirl Declaration!

So, here’s how this all happened. I was talking to a guy last night at a seminar about my life-long struggle to attain the body that I’ve always wanted. I began gaining weight at age 6 and was on my first diet at age 7. (The Hilton Head Metabo-Meal Diet. I remember the melba toast and cottage cheese like it was yesterday.) Since then my life has been a flurry of scales, tape measures, gyms, low-carb/high-fat diets, inch pinching, spicy lemonade, calorie counting, self esteem issues, loving my body and loathing it a month later. I told him how I make daily promises to myself to eat right, exercise 4-5 times a week and stop giving into my cravings. Then, often by midday, I’ve decided that by some miracle, I have the type of biology that allows me to eat what I want and still lose weight, even if I don’t go to the gym that day. At week’s end, I find myself legitimately shocked that I haven’t lost a single pound or even worse, gained one. In short–failure.  There’s something about a box of Honey Nut Cheerios that makes my desire to be a comfortable size 4 seem trite and unimportant. After all, what’s one bowl gonna hurt, right? (As if I ever eat just one bowl.) Stupid little bee and his tiny rings of honey-coated goodness.

After explaining all of this to said guy, who was, until last night, a total stranger, he says to me, ‘Why don’t you blog about it? That way you’ll have to be accountable. Post it to your facebook page and let your ‘friends’ track your progress.” While I was immediately intrigued by the idea, the notion of having the world ‘weigh in’ on my arduous, private struggle was beyond frightening, which of course meant I had to do it. Thing is, I don’t back down from fear. I hate the idea of being afraid of anything, so if it scares me, I’m in. That’s just who I am. (There are a couple exceptions to this of course. Mainly, horror films–I don’t like scary movies–and angry chimps.)

In any event, here I am, exposing my secret and my nueroses in one fell swoop. I call my blog FormerFatGirlNeuroses because many of my counterparts would assert that I don’t need lose weight. And cognitively, I know that’s probably true. I am a size 6/8 and within the BMI standards of a healthy weight….blah, blah, blah. What these well-meaning friends do not know, however, is that I’ve calculated my overall residual jiggle factor, (heretofore referred to as RJF), at 1.8 seconds. For those who are unfamiliar with RJF, it is simply the amount of time that your fatty parts continue to jiggle after the rest of you has stopped moving. An RJF over 0.4 seconds is completely unacceptable for any body part other than the butt cheeks. (Because every girl should be able to make it bounce for special occasions. :-)). Truth be told, other than a quick half-hour romp in Miami in 2009, I haven’t worn a swimsuit outside of a fitting room in the continental United States in 8 years.  When my friends throw beach parties in LA, most girls wear bikinis. I am fully dressed. And as an actress, seeing your double chin or muffin top in HD is arguably one of the most horrifying experiences a girl can have.

The point is, I’m not happy with my physique, and I’ve been “trying” for years to whip my body into shape.  From pilates to zumba to martial arts and old-fashioned aerobics, nothing has worked so far. And I’ve finally admitted to myself that my eating habits need to change in order for any regimen to be fully affective. So I have committed–AGAIN–to altering my lifestyle consistently. The big difference this time is that I’m telling all of you about it. And I expect each of you to call me on my sh*t. No excuses. No falling off. Enough is enough. How am I gonna be the first Black female action star with fat bulges sticking out of my skin-tight leather jumpsuit?

So, here’s my declaration: I am wholly committed to attaining the body that I want and reaching all of my fitness/weight loss goals within the designated timeframe.
Today is June 14. I need to lose at least 8 lbs by July 23rd for a film shoot and at least another 4 lbs by August 10, when I will be meeting my beautiful, hour-glass-shaped East Coast girls in Mexico for vacation. (I refuse to be the weak link!) And hell no I’m not going to tell you how much I weigh now. But when I lose it all, I’ll post my new weight and you can do the math for yourself. That is, for those of you who do math. I was an English major for a reason.

Let the slim down begin! God help me. I will be posting weekly updates detailing my progress and/or shortfalls. At some point, I may even include pictures. I have no idea how this will turn out, but I am giving it my full commitment. If all else fails, though, there’s always micro-body contouring. (No, really. I’ve already had the consultation.) So, here I go. Please keep hands and feet inside the car at all times, buckle up and let’s ride. *Insert crunk music here*

P.S. It is possible that some of you may not believe that I was really overweight in my younger years, (ages 6-19 to be specific). I have had people question that in the past. And yes, I do, in fact, have pictures that would put all questioning to rest. But I would as soon be tomahawked by those angry chimps than to ever let those pictures see the light of day. So, for now at least, you’ll just have to take me at my word. I’m off to the gym.