Forty. Pounds. Down.

And 25 or so to go. I wanted to wait to do this post until I was sure the last few pounds I lost weren't just from the little intestinal bug diet I was on three weeks ago (gross, I know). During my last few prenatal appointments, I quite honestly just closed my eyes when I stepped on the scale. I didn't want to know and, why make a puffalump of a pregnant lady feel more like a puffalump - right? Right. So, after dropping quite a bit of weight initially, I felt brave at my six week postpartum check-up and asked,

"So, um, what was my last recorded pregnancy weight?" 

The nurse checks while my blood pressure increases, "225," she says.

SON. OF. A. BEE STING.

A couple weeks after baby #4 was born.

I'd lost my 30ish pounds. You know the 30 pounds you're supposed to gain during pregnancy? Yeah, that comes right off. If you gain more than 30, you just played the "I'm eating for two" game a little too much and then you're in deep caca. And, apparently that's my favorite game. I was stuck at 198. All of those dang cherry cokes, chocolate donuts and double cheeseburgers caught up with me (again).

A few months ago, I almost donated this shirt
because it was too short and too tight. 

I can remember staring at that number on the scale in disbelief. I got on and off the scale a few times just to make certain it wasn't lying to me. I got a couple other figures, 196.something; 198.2, 198...no matter what I did, the dumb thing wasn't going to give me the 130 I was looking for. I told my husband the scale must be broken at that I wanted to go partake in some retail therapy at, you guessed it, Tarjay.

I was pretty miserable, and I knew a new scale (even if it was a super awesome WiFi enabled model - I'm SO geeky) wasn't going to fix the glitch - only time and discipline would. A healthy goal for me is around 130. Knowing that 68lbs had to go by way of hard work made me want to go binge out on Mike and Ikes and cry into some icy cold glass of cherry coke (with grenadine syrup - only cherry coke made by a bartender would fix this). After some days and maybe weeks of pouting around and drumming up a game plan in my head, my friend Nicole posted a 30-day clean eating challenge on her FB status.  I didn't have anything to lose (except fat), so I went for it.

The next day, September 30th, I gave up processed foods, white sugar, white flour, white bread and white rice. I read every stinking clean eating website, article, commentary, magazine, blog post, and book I could find. I decided to be dedicated, to stick to it, to do it 100%, and it worked. Here's what else I've learned:

Hard work works. Whining and crying about how much weight you have to lose while waiting for someone to throw you a pity party (complete with cherry coke and chocolate cake), does not.

Half-dieting, doesn't work. I know it's TERRIBLY cliche, especially in the finess world, but make it a lifestyle change! If you only change 25% of what you're doing, you're only going to see 25% results. If you "take it slow" you're going to see slow or no results. If you're miserable and can't get started, you're going to stay miserable. SO, as I write, I'm down 40lbs. I still have more to go, but darn it, the amount of weight I've lost is equivalent to my four-year-old child who's getting hard for me to pick up these days. The best advice I can give you is to just GO FOR IT. It's like working out, you can't get the beach body you want by doing thirty jumping jacks followed by 20 minutes of tanning once a week. Be consistent; follow the rules; be dedicated.

It didn't happen over night, but I didn't gain the weight over night either. If you start today, maybe a few months from now you'll feel like a different person, too. What are you waiting for? Throw the cookies in the trash and come on! The only thing you have to lose is your gut! I've been where you are. Let's go!

PS. And, while you're on a roll, go enter my spice set giveaway! Today is the last day to do so.

PPS. Questions about clean eating? Just ask!