Eating Like a Lady

It's almost the New Year, and ya'll know what that means.  Time to turn over a new leaf and swear up and down that I'm going to do all of the things that I was supposed to do this year.  Namely, that means taking care of my body. 

I used to be so good about this.  Anal retentive in fact.  In early college, my glory days, I worked out like a maniac and got myself down to a size THREE.  I'll repeat that for posterity.  A SIZE THREE.  And guess how many pictures I have of that period of my life.  O.  Because my mother never got that film developed, and who knows where it is now. 

Eventually, time to work out grew thinner (no pun intended), and I still maintained a decent exercise and eating routine, but when I started working, the spread began.  And then when I started grad school it got almost unmanageable. 

So when I was flipping through some old photos and ran across this one, I almost spit out my coffee. 

This photo was taken almost four years ago, and this was not the thinnest I've ever been, but when I saw it, my jaw hit the floor.  I cannot believe that I was ever this person, and then I realized that I need to make more of an effort towards physical health not only for personal reasons but also so that when Justin and I eventually do start a family, my body will be a temple of health for a baby. 

So I've been thinking about eating habits and observing the plates of women around me, and a thought struck me.  I need to get back to eating like a lady.  Avoiding portions intended for lumberjacks or construction workers.  Asking myself as I load my plate, "Would a LADY eat this?  Would a LADY eat this MUCH of this?" 

This may seem horribly stereotypical to envision a delicate Southern Belle complete with hat and gloves, but it just may be the ticket to retrieving my body from the dumpster to which I've relegated it.