218 is the area code for Duluth, Grand Rapids and International Falls, Minn.
It's the year that Elagabalus was declared Roman Emperor, according to our friends at Wikipedia. His reign, I've read, was rather tempestuous, scandal-filled and ended rather bloodily.
How appropriate, then, that 218 is also my weight as I type this blog, the first entry in Lord knows how many I'll have to write until I get to that magical, Disney-like place where I don't feel like the Epcot ball in my favorite pair of jeans. Actually, it's more like Jupiter on a toothpick, but you probably got the visual (sorry).
Anyway, as I mentioned in last week's Tuesday column about New Year's resolutions, I'm writing a daily blog that's more like a food diary, all in the silly hopes that the potential for a HUGE public fail would keep me on the straight(ish) and narrow.
It won't always be like, "For breakfast, I ate a cup of oatmeal, drank a glass of water, then cried for 15 minutes." Sometimes, I'll skip right to the crying. But other times, I'll talk about something else, like fitness-related stuff or goals met, advice trainers or nutritionists give me, blah, blah, blah. I'll try not to bore you by trying not to bore myself. We'll see how that pans out.
OK, so here are my goals I'll be struggling to meet during the next three months, as March 31 is my unofficial "Yay! I Survived This Crap -- Where's My Pizza?!?!" celebration.
Goal No. 1: Lose weight. Duh. I'd love to say an exact amount, such as 43 pounds -- which is precisely what I've gained since July 4, six months ago today. Maybe 198 by some time in March? Or 190, if I'm extra good. That's the weight I lied about on my driver's license, so let's just stick with that: 190.
Goal No. 2: Join a gym. I'm making myself commit to joining one by Friday, as I've been telling people I'd join one since before the Tulsa Run. Visited the new Y downtown with Shadey -- more on that this week.
Goal No. 3: Quit smoking. Yes, I started back again, and it was the second most stupid thing I've ever done -- first being having started smoking in the first place. But I had my last cigarette in the wee, wee, WEEEEE hours of Monday morning. So far, no cravings.
Goal No. 4: Find a corner table/desk/thingy for my new computer so I can stay at home and write vs. go out and eat every dang night.
Goal No. 5: Cut back on caffeine. I'm gonna miss my Diet Coke, but I felt so much better during the three months I went without it spring 2009. If I give in to anything, though, it'll be this -- and I don't want to hear any flak, Roberta.
So there ya have it. Oh! Almost forgot:
Breakfast: Nothing.
Lunch: A grilled chicken salad with salsa for dressing, water with lemon. And a handful of buttery croutons. (I apologize to anyone at Billy's who saw my face while I was sucking the fat calories out of them one by one.)
Dinner: Lord only knows -- tune in tomorrow, folks.
Peace, love and Day One jitters ... xoxo
P.S.: I have no idea what I'm going to call this thing. "Food Diary" is kinda flat, unlike my abs. So maybe that's just barely ironic enough to be interesting? Didn't think so. If you think of something, kindly holler -- "kindly" being the operative word.
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