Let's Start At The Very Beginning

I've been told (via The Sound of Music) that the beginning is a very good place to start. This blog is a year and a half overdue as that is when my real commitment to getting healthy started, but some things take time. In my youth, the only real time I worked out were my days as an adorable ballerina

Tahnee - Dance OMG Could I BE any cuter?

Buuuut then puberty hit and I got all of grandma's curves and I quit. I started doing theater and that was basically it. The most I worked out in my teenage years were the mile-ish I walked home from school, the drill team (what up to my fellow baton twirlers) and my awesome and sweaty skanking at ska shows. My mom constantly told me that I should work out, but what's the worst thing you can do to an overweight teenager? Tell them to do anything. Of course I didn't listen. Needless to say, I put on some pounds. I think at my heaviest I was pushing 170 which might not be a lot to some, but on my 4'11 frame, that is a lot of unnecessary extra poundage.

Tahnee Weirdos This is from a puppet show I was working on a year ago and quite frankly, it makes me a little sad to look at

Luckily my weight tended to wax and wane. I was a dog walker in college and post college and spent 8 hours a day running around to various Boston neighborhoods and walking up four floor apartment buildings: waned. I had a desk job but worked out regularly, but also ate lime Tostitos with chocolate milk regularly: waxed. I moved to Chicago and worked a day job, a night job, took improv classes and performed most nights: waned (in this instance, I assume wane to mean I put on the poundage).

Now let's go back to a year and a half ago. I had bought a deal to a gym I ended up falling in love with right away and I was going regularly. I started running because they made us run around the block, and I couldn't. I found it embarrassing and just wanted to keep up with everyone. I had two friends that pushed me to start running at lunch in order to get better. And shortly thereafter, my father died of cardiac arrest.

When someone you love dies, you get a little selfish. I started to wonder why I was spending time doing anything that didn't make me happy (you know, but once in awhile you have to do the boring stuff and whateves) and I decided that I was going to love myself more.

So that's the beginning... the rest is not the end...just the middle... every day is a middle.