Naked Hustle

"What do you want to be when you grow up?"

When the teacher posed the question to my third grade class, most students responded with a typical "grow up and run the world answer."

"Imma be a doctor, miss."


"I'm going to be a nurse."


"Imma be a football playa!!!"

Surprisingly, I was the only one who replied, "a stripper." The class roared in laughter as the teacher struggled to make out what I had just proclaimed to my peers.

"What was that, Georgia? I said, "an anchor lady, miss. Imma be on TV."

Sadly, in 2007 during my first internship, I quickly changed my mind. There's no way I'm going to be on TV and have everyone watching my weight for me. So, I convinced myself to take on a role behind the camera and explained to my loved ones that I had made my decision for the people. "We need more Black people in management," I exclaimed. Now, 10 months post graduation, I have decided to get back to my original proclamation...the naked hustle. It's not about shaking a little to get a little. My aspirations are centered around the art of the stripper's body. (stop judging me!!!) I've never been to a strip club but I've known a few in my lil' lifetime. I don't see myself serving up lap dances night by night. I just want to look like I can climb a pole, jump down and land in a split.

I suck at this commitment thing. It's not enough for me to just promise myself daily workouts and healthy eating. I'm stepping it up. My new goal is to reach my stripper body. Maybe then people will stop laughing at me when I tell them "Imma start strippin'!" I would like for me to stop and actually consider the fact that I could work a pole if I needed to.

Y'all know me by now, right? So, I really don't have to tell you that the whole master cleanse thing didn't work out? Great. I get really emotional when I talk about my failures. For some reason I just can't seem to motivate myself. I've made up in my mind that I need to take a class. Unfortunately, my $10 membership only includes 24-access and that godawful spinning class.

Last week, I journeyed across the street to The Omni Club. I'd planned to visit back when I thought it was a "drop it low, pick it up slow" kind of club. Learning that it was a fitness club delayed my arrival. Walking in for the first time reminded me of Mondo Burger from "Good Burger" (home of the good burger, can I take your orrrrder?) Every member of the gym must be getting paid to be there because they were all perfect. It was hate at first sight. Nevertheless, I let the handsome salesman talk me into going home to change and coming back to try out boot camp. I stayed from start to finish, struggling to keep up with the 40+ crowd and left in tears. I had no idea I was so out of shape. I went back Saturday for fight club because I really needed to whoop some grass! I walked in to see all the size 4s warming up and strapping on their gloves. I walked right back out. I went to my own gym and ran for 10 minutes. I know it's not enough but it was something.

Don't get me wrong, I loved the gym in a way but honestly, I couldn't afford the $179 package. My new plan is to purchase a $35 Zumba membership and maintain my $10 membership at World Gym. This experience has led to me to question health care in this country. Have you ever wondered why your health insurance doesn't cover you gym membership. Well, I have. Let's REVOLT!

Big, Bad Fatback

*singing*
"Guess who's back? Back again... Georgia's back! Tell a friend."

Just me and my fat back here. Not the kind you smother in collard greens but kind the will smother a small child.

 

Over the past four months my weight trend has been a reflection of my stressful lifestyle and failed relationships. Back in May, I let my friend Jennifer Hudson hook me up with one of her friends. Needless to say, I dropped Weight Watchers like Bible in a whore house. It was totally stressing me out. In August, I left "the boo" after nearly a year. In the two weeks it took me to build the courage and mutter the painful words, I lost 8lbs. I went from eating my feelings to becoming numb to the hunger pains. My relationship with the gym is currently in jeoparody and I really want things to work out. I want to take control of my fitness again. 

Since the feces hit the fan, I found a new doctor, a new therapist and a new love interest, ME!!! My effort to get back on my health kick begins with a master cleanse. Follow the detailed bowel movements and sips of spicy lemonade here.

3lbs Away from a Heart Attack!

I'm three pounds away from a heart attack!

By now you've probably learned that I'm dramatic but that's OK. Sometimes it works for me and sometimes it doesn't.

The last two weeks have been hard. My schedule at work drastically changed, my social life picked up, my relationship went sour and as a result, I started drinking more. I found comfort in the bottle, which isn't hard to do when they're 2-4-1!

Malibu and Pineapple, please?

I knew what I was doing when I skipped the gym the first time, but it didn't stop me from flirting with failure. Instead of losing weight during 30-DT, I gained two pounds! Seeing those three digits rise was like going back in time. I realized then that I have absolutely no discipline.

I'm not giving up!!!

With every ounce of liquor I consumed, I told myself I would work it off. I hate diets as much as I hate grown men who still wear braids and beads, but I need the structure.





First, it was J-HUD.

Then it was Jordin Sparks and NOW even Raven-Symone has taken off the weight.

I listened to all of their post-weight loss interviews and the common factor was love. They each loved themselves enough to take a few steps back from the table.

*PUSHES CHIPS IN*

I don't have much but I'm going to give it all I have. My biggest fear is not discipline, it's having to poke myself every day to check my sugar. They can't be me. I cannot become that girl. Every time I feel tired in the back of my mind I'm wondering if it's diabetes.

I'm better than this weight. So I've decided not to give up on this challenge until I concur the pounds. I'm going to lay down my cheesecake down by the riverside and study gluttony no more!

I DID IT!

I joined Weight Watchers. I'm officially on a diet but this time I'm not alone. My good friend Vironica has decided to join me. I'm happy to have her on the team even though she's in Ohio. (Operation: J-HUD)

Please don't give up on me now. I need your prayers and support now more than ever.

Keep me lifted.

J-hud and that damn commercial!

I stepped on the scale.

I hopped off the scale.

I eased back on the scale.

Tears began to rise and my levees started to crack.

Three weeks after the launch of 30-DT and still no change. Two whole pounds disappeared during the first week of the challenge. I thought I could keep it up but my body grew weary. I underestimated the toll that working out 5 days a week would take on my body.

Tired.

I took a few days off, steering clear of the gym, occasionally doing a few workouts on my like-new yoga mat. This was the first time I'd pulled it out in 365 days. I hate yoga but it was on sale. ;)

I tried but some days I just couldn't find the motivation and gentle nudges from friends seemed to have a countereffect.

My sofa. My leather, plum, pillar of comfort welcomed me home every day, holding me hostage from the hostile world. Outside my window I hear the birds chirping on my abandoned patio. I wonder what it would be like to sit outside and bask in the sun's generosity. Working out 5 times a week suddenly diminished to two, sometimes three, good workouts.

Feeling better, lighter and toned, I continued to watch what rolled off my fingers and into my mouth. I often indulge in a smoothie a day or a handful on trail mix convinced that they are healthier choices, but when offered free food, I fail. Just last week I went toe-to-toe with Easter dinner and a long overdue mojito but the kryptonite was none other than a bowl of homemade banana pudding. How could I resist the one thing in the world that never failed to get me wet? I couldn't deny the mouth-watering, creamy vanilla pudding, fresh bananas and crisp vanilla wafers. I gave in. I lost control. My plan was to savor it and stretch it out over a few days but I could not rest knowing it was sitting in the next room. Within minutes, I devoured the entire bowl. Game Over.

No.

Wait!

I can't give up on myself now.


I'm learning that my physical health is more than just cardio and weights. It's almost about mental and emotional health but that's another post...

I still have 10 good days I can give this thing and that's better than giving up. As I stepped off the scale and depression rushed through my veins, the first thing I thought about was all the support I'd received from friends and followers. I felt like I'd let them down but then I reminded myself that I'm doing this for me and that's all the matters.

Dig Deep Time

My back aches.

My muscles are sore.

My body is tired.

This whole working out 5 days a week trip is really starting to take a toll. I thought working out was supposed to give me energy but I was wrong. Pulling an old t-shirt over my head and slipping into my tights is becoming more of a task these days. I find myself looking for any excuse not to hop in car and drive 5 minutes to the gym.

Yesterday it rained.

YES!

The light shower was my ticket out. So I tweeted,

@GeorgiaDawkins "Definitely not going to the gym in this rain. #hangitup #flatscreen"

Unfortunately, my followers aren't letting me give in so easily. Immediately my best friend began pulling me off the sofa using everyone of her 140 characters.

"@GeorgiaDawkins UMMM! its not raining inside the gym!! #NoExcuses"

"RT @MsMedSkool4real: GeorgiaDawkins UMMM! its not raining inside the gym!! #NoExcuses
"I will commit to abs at home."

"@GeorgiaDawkins NOPE!!!!....take ya ass to da gym and get in your ENTIRE workout"



That's when I decided it was dig deep time and I brought it! Before I went to went I suffered through an intense ab workout accompanied by rigerous push-ups.





Meet Trudy.








Every time I step on the tredmil it asks me to enter my weight. This is the only time I lie. The deafult weight is normally 150lbs so, I simply press enter. Now, you know damn well I'm a good two hun'ned! I have deemed the whole "enter your weight process" a descrimination to fat people around the world. Why? Because I'm offended.

I've only lost two pounds thus far and maybe an inch but eventually I plan to tell the tredmill the truth and nothing but it.

Until then I will not tell a soul. No one will know my true weight but me, you and Trudy.

Sweeter than a Drag Queen

Hungry and half naked, I step on the scale hoping for the lowest three numbers possible.

I finally stepped on the scale three days after the launch of my fitness challenge.

TWO.

OH.

FIVE.

Yes, I said it. For years I have avoided communication with THE SCALE... *echo* *echo* *echo* But now, I'm facing the FAT. Although I look great and I feel fine (as in sexy), I'm not as healthy as I could be. I can't say I'm off to a great start but I am in a better position than last week.

I've already skipped two days at the gym. Don't freak out!!! That's my limit per week. One of those days I actually worked out at home.



That's right, Jesus! Go me!

Thursday, Kee Kee came over to take my before pics and measurements. I don't know what hurts worse...the fact the my waist is 38 inches or the scale's awful truth.


So, I'm working out but my diet SUCKS! Well it doesn't exactly suck but it does nibble a bit. I have way too much sugar in my diet. Like more sugar than RuPaul's Drag Race. *snaps* OK, girlfriend?!?

This week's challenge I will be cutting back on the carb and sweets. My gym routine has seriously picked up. I'm now hitting the tredmil and weights for 45 minutes to an hour. I'm proud of me.

I'd like to take this time to address the enemy...

Dear Lord,

I come against candy in the name of Jesus. I bind up laziness and rebuke Tom's Vinegar and Salt chips. Please give me strength to overcome at least 10lbs by the end of the month. All these things I ask in Your Son's Name.

Amen.

SOMEBODY SAY, "HALLELOO!"

DAY 1: I QUIT

I was done yesterday. My mind just not in the 30-day Thrust anymore. Yesterday, after some conflict with the boo (my emotional weight), I plopped down on the sofa with a bowl of leftover Valentines' Day chocolate. I don't keep junk food in my house so, that's all I could find. With a bruised heart, I could have gone for some butter pecan ice cream.


After venting to my bestie about my relationship issues, I declared that 3-DT was over before it started. Confused and disappointed, she put on her cheerleading outfit and encouraged me.

Betsie: "Why don't you want to do it."
Me: "My head's not in it."
Bestie: "Why did you want to do in in the first place?'
Me: "Because I wanted to challenge myself. I need the blog so I can hold myself accountable."
Bestie: "Well then stick to that...You can't say you're going to challenge yourself and give up before it starts. That's not a challenge."


Getting dressed for work this morning made me sad. I've had these slacks and blouse for about three years. I was more upset when I struggled to button my pants than the last time I stepped on the scale. Tight clothes make me sad because I feel like I work really hard to be healthy.

I'm frustrated with my body and I need to see results. I plan to work hard for them. I will spend more time at the gym than I do at the table.



Follow me.

Encourage me.

Love me.