My plate of emotions...

My family is always celebrating with food. Really good food, high in carbs, high in fat, high in portions.

I want to break the cycle, but never do. I fall back in with them and accept the excuses we share for not changing. When my knee was scrapped, ice cream made it better. When my heart was broke, my favorite meal was in order. Birthday? Let's eat. Lost tooth? Let's eat. Painted the living room? Let's eat. Not that I can blame my family for where I am or where I was, but I can hold myself responsible for continuing the trend. I can change it for my kids and myself. It's hard, but I'm ready. It's time.

I'm not sure my family will be wanting to come over next Easter for a healthy light meal and a nice walk. I don't expect Christmas to exist without the forty pounds of sugary treats. But I can not eat it, not put it into my mouth. I will do it and they can support, or stay out of the way. It's time. These runs hurt when loaded down with weight, of every kind, and I love my runs more than that food. Fast food = Fat Ass. Processed= Weakness. High fat= Heart Attack.

I'm ready to live my life my way. It's time to celebrate my family, without the buffet.

In happiness,
Beth