Too much and not enough

I've been a lousy blogger lately.  It isn't that I have nothing to share.  OK, let me rephrase that. There are plenty of subjects and a plethora of conundrums dancing about in my brunette covered head.  It's simply a matter of choosing what to put out to the masses (all eight of you) to read.  Public consumption of personal details was never something of concern.  If you know me you realize there is very little I've censored ... in the past.  Presently, it is difficult to blather on about my personal life because the subjects are not some passers by who departed my life as aimlessly and carelessly as they entered. ie, Internet or laundromat men.  The people who share my airspace are not going away any time soon (thank God!).  But since much of what I write about is based on my day to day emotions, it's increasingly challenging to throw it out in a public forum.

Anyone who has read this blog in the last three or four months knows that I have a new passion.  It has made me some what singularly minded.  When I set out on this journey it was my intention to make myself accountable, as well as, encourage others to join me.  With high hopes a few of you might even join Team Beachbody for support and sign up as coaches.  The discounts on products I believe in and get results from are a major reason why I became a Team Beachbody Coach. Making a pact to do my part to end obesity is the driving force.  Just like 'you are what you eat', I am what I preach.  It's hard work to whittle off the pounds and etch definition into what was once a blank canvas of flubber.  It's such a reward to run my hand up my arm and feel the onset of a tri-cep muscle.  I will continue to be an infomercial for improved health and fitness regardless of how it may turn off a few people.  While I care what people think about me, I care more about inspiring even one person to take a leap of faith that will change their lives for the better.  In writing about my endeavors it truly keeps me accountable to my own goals.  I refuse to sit on the sidelines and be mum.  Silence is merely an enabler and a hindrance to achieving success! Everyday I ask myself what I did that I can be proud of and how do I feel as a result? What say you?

Four months ago I never would have posted a photo of myself extending below my collar bone. Dread was all I felt when I looked at myself.  Shame is another word I'd use to describe my self image.  Thirty percent into my goal and I can stand taller and feel confident in what has happened to my body and spirit.  Sleeveless shirts no longer taunt me as they hang on the department store racks.  The Levi jeans that have hung in my closet since 2001 no longer toy with my emotions.  Instead, they go up over my thighs, hips and button and zip.  It took me decades to give myself permission to have a sense of self worth.  Self deprecation was knee jerk.  Why bother caring about myself if no one else did? Oof! A trigger went off in my head one day and that thinking is utter bullshit.  Why was I hating myself? I have an amazing son! How could I feel that way about his mother? Divulging my inner monologue to you is simply a way of relating.  Through personal stories we find a common ground with others.  Even on the program Next Food Network Star the judges are always telling the contestants to relate their tips and cooking style in the form of a personal story because it speaks to the viewers ten times more effectively. 

My drive and desire to help others flip that same trigger in their minds may make me seem ... I don't know, pushy? While I may apologize for my methods, I don't apologize for the passion behind it. 

By the way, my collar bone is actually protruding slightly now. That was even chubby!  Now, beware of the day my hip bones are once again visible. EEP! Will my blog require a NSFW rating?