Okay - I blame it on all of you. You know who you are. The ones who decided to get healthy. The ones who decided to get strong. The ones who write just incredible journals full of honesty and hope and fun...

This is your fault. And your punishment is - HAVING ME AMONG YOU

You know that Toby Keith song "I Wanna Talk About Me"? Well, it's gonna be ME ME ME ME ME.

SO, without any further delay, it is on to ME.


Dear Journal -

I joined the MDA forum Journals page today. That was huge for me. Hubby and I live really private lives, and he doesn't know about this journal yet. Not that I need his permission, but we have been in agreement that we will be invisible for the most part. Not a one of us has ever had a Facebook account. No Tweets. No family websites. No nuthin'. We like it that way. So - this feels like an about-face to me. Don't expect any photos for a good, long time here, if ever...

Hubby does know that I write on the MDA. Dunno' if he checks my posts every day. I really don't mind if he does - if I did, I really shouldn't be putting it up here... At the very least he hasn't come back to me and said something like "You wrote THIS today?!?!".

I already made one of those Hello Let Me Introduce Myself posts. I have been writing responses to posts, for better or worse, for around a month. Met lots of just plain ole' nice, funny, honest, thoughtful, helpful, cantankerous, interesting, sympathetic, supportive, accepting people. And oh, my, gawd - NickMcCool. Next time I go to Westerville I really should try finding his gym. The only thing that will prevent me is the almost-certain knowledge that I will find myself in the parking lot under the blazing sun, strapped to one of his instruments of torture as I get flayed with a pulley cable by one of his Dudes, and not let up until I do reps until I puke or pass out - 45 times (my age)...and my reward will be a stinkin' chocolate milk.

I am doing the Primal thing very, very, slowly. I want to lose flab, especially around the middle. I am 5'5", and normal-to-finer boned. That said, I have curves, even when I am trim. My goals are: real fitness, stable blood sugar, TONS of energy, L - G - N (!!), and just the knowledge that I am finished with searching for the "perfect diet" for me.

I am going to do this whole Primal lifestyle thing as project chunks.

Project Number One - work on the blood sugar issues. I chose the Primal because it became clear, even to this sugar addict, that when I ate all those Junior Mints and York Peppermint Patties, I got sick. The Primal caught my serious attention with the posts about humans being fat-burners. My carby flu lasted five weeks. Five weeks. And then it has taken until now (May 1 was my first official Primal day) for me to even get to the point where I think I have a steady stream of energy. I really must have been more screwed up than I thought. It is nice, though.

Project Number Two - can't decide yet between making a habit of movin' my arse or getting the sleep hygiene under control. I absolutely love the nighttime hours and always have... and I hate programmed "exercise". If somebody asked me to go on a stroll through the woods, I would be out there in a minute. But bustin' my buns in some gym?? Hell, no. And to top it off, who would take responsibility for watching my special-needs daughter while I am sweating and reppin' and my hubby works and travels long hours in order to make her therapy payments... Huh.

So, Dear Journal, ends my first entry. I look forward to my future progress. I haven't felt light to myself since before I got pregnant with my last daughter, and it will be a welcome reunion.