We're over half way through January and I'm 2 weeks in to contest prep. Yup, I'm in it, living, loving it to a degree, and trying to not let it define me. I've been sitting here wishing I hadn't let myself get so far gone but there's no use in pondering it. I can' puke up the Tim Horton's breakfast sandwiches I ate, nor the wine I consumed (Both my 2 "foods I consumed in excess". Is wine a food though?), so why bother with the stress?
After 2 weeks of trying to time out 6 meals a day, one including salmon which I despise, and workouts that make me question my mental strength more times in an hour than I have in my whole life, I am down 5lbs. I don't know the measurements as of yet but my ass isn't as giggly and my muffin fluff isn't as, well, fluffy. I know that this season I 10000000% made the concious decision to put myself here. I wrestled with it, lost sleep over it, emotionally ate about it. This prep feels different in a way I have no words for currently. Check back later though as I plan on scouting the google thesaurus. :)
While I'm disappointed in how far out of control I got, I know what happened, I know EXACTLY how I got here, and I know that no weights and too much bad food make Chantelle go something something. ;) (If you got that, high five!) I currently like to think that I did a case study on myself and the effects that working out has on mild depression and stress. My conclusion is that eating good food and doing good work in the gym are two of the best drugs around. :)