Day 1 of ?

Here's the deal: I'm 26, and yes, I consider myself "fat". If you look at my height and weight on a BMI index, I'm well into the "overweight" category.

Depressing.

I wasn't always like this, though. As a competitive gymnast for 15 years, I was able to eat what I wanted, when I wanted and however much of it I wanted because, well, I was in the gym using muscles you'd never know where there for up to 30 hours a week, every week. For. Fifteen. Years. My nickname was "mouse", not because I was quiet and meek, but because I was tiny.

And now, well, I'm a house. Or at least I feel that way.

Don't get me wrong. I know I'm hard on myself. But I have to be. I need to change. So here I am.

Tonight, I meet my trainer for the first time. He's going to bust out the calipers and take my true body fat percentage. And I'm going to beg that he not tell me the result, because, well, who really wants to hear that half of your body is composed of fat? I certainly don't.

So here goes nothing... or, hopefully, here goes a lot of excess fat, weight, inches, stress, mental and emotional garbage.

Bye bye, muffin top!