"New Year, new me," right?

This is always a hot topic of January. People avidly post on social media about their aspirations to be thinner, more active, kinder, smarter, etc. Other people relentlessly complain about their frustrations with crowded gyms and "people that don't even lift normally." But we're not surprised that midway through January all is forgotten and we're left to face our resolutions the following year.

I'm not one for New Year's Resolutions. And it's not because I was ever opposed to the idea; frankly I always loved the idea of having a second chance to better yourself for an entire year. I just never found myself putting much emphasis on making one. I am a prime example of how one can make plans for self-care and end up falling short nearly every time. About a year into college, I made a mid-year resolution to start playing my flute again, and even went so far as to start renting a new one. I played it three times before I turned it back in 6 months later. Because I am immensely aware of my tendency to hold higher hopes of myself than I should, I usually just avoid every conversation regarding New Years Resolutions.

But on New Years Day this year, I found myself agreeing to join Weight Watchers with a few other family members.

I still wouldn't call this a New Year's Resolution, but rather something I've procrastinated on. It's never fun to admit that you have weight to lose. And it's also never fun to admit that you joined the January dieting bandwagon. While I don't see myself as morbidly obese, I definitely can note every stomach roll and back ache that probably shouldn't be there. But cookies are delicious and this is where I am in life. That is exactly why I'm sitting here at my laptop spewing word vomit on how sugar-deprived I am and how Weight Watchers has wrecked my soul.

If you're unfamiliar, the premise of Weight Watchers is to count points. Each food has a point value attached based on a variety of factors such as number of calories, grams of fat, grams of protein, etc. These items are subtracted from a total daily allowance. So in order to complete the program successfully, you must stay within this limit. The appeal of the program is that you can 'eat whatever you want.' So if you chosoe to eat a 20 point Whopper Jr., you might have to come to terms with not only the fact that that Whopper might be one of the only things you eat that day, but also that a little piece of you will die when you turn down a free ginger snap cookie at work for a tupperware full of celery.

It's been just shy of two weeks that I've been tracking my points. I really didn't think that this process would be as difficult as I had thought. I have definitely had periods of my life where I was healthier than I am now. But it seems as though I've forgotten what it's like to actually take care of myself. It's a crap ton of work that I don't think I prepared myself for. However, in these couple of weeks I have found some things out about myself that I think are definitely worth sharing, even if this resolution dies out with the others I have created.

I didn't realize how much junk I was actually eating

And how much of it. Because you have to be acutely aware of serving sizes, I have found myself, far too often, going to scoop myself a pile full of hummus and finding that I actually need to measure it. Two tablespoons is not enough and never will be.

Frankly, I don't think many of us realize how much we're eating, though. I have had countless conversations with my family and fiance about the point value of certain foods. Nearly every meal consideration is plagued with the question of, "Is this really that bad for me?" Most times the answer to that question is, yes. When you put a point value on an item of food, it's definitely much easier to see how those foods are 'costly.' It's definitely been a wake-up call to note exactly how much I was eating. It's harder to justify a second helping of spaghetti when I've spent the rest of the day pointlessly carb-loading to no avail. I truly didn't think I was in as bad of shape as I am. I figured, I eat a fruit or vegetable every day, I'm fine! But really, I'm not fine. I'm eating plenty more than I need to be eating. And the initial adjustment was REAL.

My body has seriously been hating me.

Detox is absolutely real. For the first week, I was plagued with unexplained headaches and fatigue. I guess when you stop slowly killing yourself, your body tries to slowly purge all of the toxins.I guess for most people, this is enough to realize "hey, maybe this is a good thing... my body can finally function the way it was meant to!" But the entire time I still day dreamed about fried chicken dipped in mashed potatoes. It's fine.

And aside from this, as I had mentioned, I had been eating far more than I needed. The first three days I spent tracking were plagued with dread and the thought that I was actually starving to death. But after Day 4 I found myself finishing off the day with 4-6 points left. I really don't need as much food as I thought.

Grocery shopping is a real nightmare.

I spent a few days house sitting for a friend, which required me to hit the grocery store to buy food that was within my food allowance. What was meant to be a "quick trip" turned into an hour and a half of endless scanning and questioning: "Should I buy the organic one or the cheap one?" "How much fat does this have?" "Why is this SO EXPENSIVE?!" I hate my whole life when I go to the grocery store, anyway. So you can guess how irritable I was upon leaving. The trip was well worth it, though. It forced me to see the cost of eating healthy. $30 really doesn't get you quite as far. But I guess it's worth the cost?

I still want everything greasy and sweet and horrible.

When they say changing your diet induces a sort of, 'detox,' they really mean it. Not only did I encounter some pretty nasty side effects (lethargy, headaches, crankiness), but I'm still handling the idea that I can't grab a square of a chocolate bar when I'm stressed out. (Yes, stress eating is most definitely my downfall). But it's not even like I can't grab that chocolate. It's that I honestly don't really want to. In the moment, that chocolate would be a super nice relief, but it's temporary. And that's really how it is with everything that's bad for you, isn't it? It provides temporary relief, and then you're left feeling slimy and disgusting. Yet somehow, the thought is still making me crave a piece of chocolate. I'm messed up.

I've been forced to get creative

Because chocolate is my downfall, I seriously sat for a day and a half and brainstormed ways I could get it into my diet. I wasn't quite willing to sacrifice my entire day for a chocolate bar, but I was determined to find an alternative (Again, I'm a messed up person). So with that, came a modified suggestion for 'banana ice cream:' 1 mashed banana, 1/4 packet of sugar free chocolate pudding mix, and 1 teaspoon of peanut butter. Freeze for 1-2 hours. You have 'healthy' ice cream (YAS, GIRL).

With this discovery, I found myself searching for better (and delicious alternatives for everything). I love sour cream. But Plain Yogurt tastes just about the same. There are 5 gajillion healthier Kung Pao Chicken recipes on Pinterest, so I no longer have justification for ordering takeout. I got this.

And I'm already seeing the effects

About mid afternoon yesterday, I found myself oddly cheerful. It was one of those days where every thing was just not going my way, but I didn't seem to notice or care. I realized that this cheeriness has been specific to this week. I've just been in a good mood. I feel better and more energized, and while I haven't shed too many pounds quite yet, I have skipped my morning standing-in-front-of-the-mirror-self-loathing routine. Which is a serious victory in and of itself. I just genuinely feel better. People tell me all the time, "take care of yourself and you'll feel better" and that doesn't really register until you actually start doing it. I'm okay with this, though.

But these are just a few observations. There are more than likely many more to be had. I'm sure there will be pitfalls and mess-ups along the way, I'm just going to have to learn how to keep going after I fall off the horse. (I mean it only has been two weeks, it really is only a matter of time). When my tendency has been to give up after a couple of months, I'm determined to change my thinking. One slip does not mean a failed effort. I'm doing this now. 'New Year, New Me,' whatever that means. I'm still figuring it out.