It’s January 8. Today was my first day back to the gym. It’s been 17 days since I was at the place. 17 DAYS!

I’ve felt like shit.

So what’s that saying that everyone says on December 31? A new year, a new me?

I don’t want a new me. I want me. The me that I’m used to. At least the old me. The me that I had 12 Years Ago. Hell, even the me from 10 years ago. Or 9 years.

Have you heard the saying I wish I was as fat as I was when I first thought I was fat?

Yup, that’s the me I want.

So I went back to the gym today. I spent the typical 2 hours there. I did my 51 minutes on the treadmill and ran the 3.11 miles. That doesn’t seem like such a far distance and it’s such a long time. I still think that. I still think I’m slow as f*ck. My lungs don’t think so. My lungs hate me for those 51 minutes. They hate me so much.

Then I did my weights. I started back over at arms. I don’t even remember what body part I left off on. Legs? Maybe the abs and booty? Who knows. I don’t.

How did I reward myself? With a pound of fackin spaghetti and a million meatballs. Okay. So not that much. But it was enough to put me over my Carbs for the day and to make me feel like a fat slug. It was delicious while I was first eating it though. Sooooo delicious. I love spaghetti. I love carbs. Who doesn’t?

My issue is….will power. Telling those carbs NO! No, I do not want to eat you and your delicious carbyness.

And sweets. Oh man I can put away chocolate. I need to learn to tell it no. Right now, it’s more of an ehhhhh sure. Why not?

Why not? Well, here’s why not….the amount of weight I’ve gained over the past…life time. I wasn’t a chubby kid. In fact I was a scrawny, knock-kneed tom boy. Then puberty hit. Holy shit did it me. I didn’t just grow boobs. I grew everything. Everywhere. Of course back then I didn’t know about diet and exercise. I was rather oblivious to everything. Unfortunately I didn’t learn about all this awesome stuff until I was older. I didn’t even fully understand it when I was in my younger adult years. I also didn’t care as much about working out back then as I do now.

I blame myself for that.

I always thought of exercise as work. Something I didn’t want to do. So I didn’t. Now, I actually enjoy it. It’s my guaranteed me time. The time where I can think. Daydream. Ponder life’s greatest questions. Mainly, when the hell am I going to get a good nights sleep. (I’ve decided that’s when I’m dead.)

I do use that time to think about the important things. Work, life, kids, the husband, and the never-ending school.

A new year, not a new me. A healthier me, yes. A new me? No. I like me. The hubby likes me. I sure as hell hope my kids like me.

So a new year, the same me…just healthy.