Welcome to the
home of the 1%.
In most cases, we hate the 1%-ers of the world. In this case, you will still probably hate the 1%-er. I apologize before we get any further.
For the past eight weeks I have spent a lot of time complaining about how macros aren’t working (while still trying to convince everyone it’s the be-all-end-all), how the scale is a piece of work (yet, i still get on it?), and how I’m struggling each and every day while trying to stay positive (true that). Then today, I took a progress picture that showed my stomach (after eating lunch) smaller than my Monday stomach (right after waking up). Much. Smaller. I sat and looked at myself in the mirror. Are you joking me?
I spent SEVEN WEEKS meticulously counting each and every calorie, each gram of carbs, all the protein, and each fat gram. I worked out HARDER in those seven weeks than I have this week (let’s call it the senior slide of Farrell’s). I spent seven weeks losing my mind with my fitness journey. Then, I spend two weeks moderately working out and ONLY counting calories. and I’m blessed with only having about two inches left to lose on my waist before my stomach is at it’s SMALLEST it’s ever (EVER) been. The scale has some dislike for me, but I am officially at the smallest weight that I’ve been at since about November. WHAT IS MY LIFE?
So, as I’m staring at myself in the mirror, I realized that I was the 1% (it’s not even 1%, like I think I’m the ONLY person… ever) who is not allowed to follow a diet. If I am it’s called the “Mcdoubles make the booty” diet. I spent three years eating out every single day and working it off. “But abs are built in the kitchen” “But you need to eat clean” “Follow diet (x)!” You can shut your mouth cause my weight loss journey was built on Mcdoubles and Crunchwrap Supremes, and I lost 100 pounds once. You can go eat your salad and cry.
Why is my life like this? Why couldn’t my body just lose weight on the EIGHT WEEKS OF CHICKEN BREAST? If I would have, I probably wouldn’t absolutely hate chicken breast with a fiery passion. It’s so hard to be me. It’s so hard to eat nachos twice a day, not have to choke down protein shakes, and also eat Mcdoubles and still lose weight (as long as I work out. Please don’t think I’m just forgetting about waking up at 5:45 to try and kick box).
If you didn’t catch that, that was sarcasm. I’m a brat, but I’m PUMPED. CLEARLY “You can’t out train a bad diet” doesn’t apply to me. You can build your abs in the kitchen, but I’m going to built my butt in the drive thru. I swear, I should have thought of this nine weeks ago. My life rocks. If anyone wants my diet plan, let me know.
Onto week TEN & the final week of Farrell’s!