Growing up I loved food. My parents (bless their hearts and tummy's) always kept our cupboards and refrigerator STOCKED with goodies. In high school my friends would always joke (in the most serious manner) about coming over so they could indulge in the dozens of snack cakes, cookies, chips, Cheetos, dozens of boxes of cereal and frozen food that we had available.
After school I would dive in to a bag of puffy Cheetos, eat half a bag of marshmallows dipped in chocolate sauce, or munch on package after package of Dunk-a-Roos until it was time for dinner ... (I know you remember those lovely little shaped grahams with confetti icing!) For dinner we'd normally "wing it", which generally entailed stuffing half a pizza, or a box of Kraft Macaroni and Cheese in my face. On weekends I'd get fast food with friends. McDonald's double cheeseburgers and strawberry shakes, Wendy's chicken nuggets, Taco Bell Quesadillas and Grilled Stuffed Burritos.
BUT I was more active then most girls my age. I was on the pom squad and our practices which ran 5 days a week, for 10 months a year, which consisted of 3 hours of INTENSE cardio, coupled with my young and rapid metabolism allowed me to overeat and not see any ill affects.
When I graduated high school I was 5'3" and weighed about 115-120 lbs. depending on the day. I honestly don't think I had ever even looked at the nutritional information on anything a single time in my life. I ate what I wanted, when I wanted it.
Fast forward 4 years.
In 2006 I went to Mexico and from the looks of my picture and what I can remember I felt pretty decent about how I looked in bikini. I had been dating my boyfriend for a year at this point. He wined me and dined me. We enjoyed long dinners and many cocktails over our relationship. But he was also on our Division I collegiate soccer team so he manged to keep me in okay shape by encouraging me to join in his workouts.
(Puerto Vallarta, February 2006)
(-- please forgive the repeated pose, I never know what to do with my hands in solo pictures!)
And then ...
We broke up. I was sad. And turned to food.
You know how it goes. You go out for happy hour mid-week with your girlfriends to get him off your mind. You party long in to the night and always manage to justify devouring a Styrofoam container of sweet-n-sour chicken in a drunk craze at 4 am. You then also justify your hangover by trying to cure it with a fat soaked grand slam breakfast at Denny's 4 hours later when you wake up.
Shortly there after I joined my family on a week long summer vacation and when I saw the pictures when I returned home I knew I had been oblivious to all the things I was allowing myself to indulge in. For the first time in my life, I looked at my picture and saw myself as fat. I am going to guess the fruity/syrupy drink in my hand "garnished" with a blow-pop probably wasn't adding much nutritional value to my lifestyle.
(outside of Buca diBeppo's in Charlotte, NC. July 2006)
The caption of this picture in my Facebook album is "stuffed" ... and I was!
It wasn't until a few years later that I took my weight by the reigns and made some drastic lifestyle changes ...
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