The thought found me alone in the car.
If I crashed and died right now, my last thought would be: "I can’t believe I didn’t lose the weight."
All my life, I’d been fat.
Not the kind of fat you see on My 600-lb Life, but the kind of fat where kids would ask me why I’m wearing a T-shirt in the swimming pool. Where girls in 3rd grade would tease me that I needed a bra more than them.
Needless to say, it wasn’t fun.
But when I was 17, I found myself eating a spoiled sandwich, and subsequently 8 lbs lighter (due to a particularly horrid bout of food poisoning).
And a week later, I found myself alone in that car. Having the thought that would change my brain chemistry forever.
If I want to keep this up, I need to treat the gym like it’s brushing my teeth.
And so I formed my mantra:
When I'd peel myself out of bed
When I'd drive to the gym in the pouring rain.
When guilt from last night's binge made me feel hopeless.
Today, like every day, I will be brushing my teeth.