One evening I looked around my kitchen at the number of take out styrofoam containers sitting around and then took a long, hard look at myself. Not just physically, but mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. Who was this person I’d become? There might have been a smile on my face but it was a mask. Time to get serious.
I dieted (still back to low/no fat though) and exercised for almost a month before I had the nerve to step on the scale. Ultimately, I don’t know how heavy I really ended up – the scale that day read 182 pounds! I joined a gym and “took it to the next level”. Over the next couple of years I returned to 135 pounds including muscle tone and somewhat better health.
I met the man who is now my husband and went to work in his family business, McDonald’s Restaurants. Yes, now we were the King & Queen of fast food. I was proficient enough to become my own Owner/Operator and made a name for myself in the business. In the beginning, with 12-14 hour days all on my feet plus continuing at the gym, I was able to gain only a bit of weight. As the job morphed so did our eating habits and some of my weight. But, as our relationship became more serious so did our desire to eat at home. As I started wanting to prepare meals for him, it became obvious that I only knew my mother’s cooking. As a single person, eating peas from the can while standing in my kitchen seemed acceptable, but not now. I wanted more. Note dear reader, my husband’s mother is a gourmet cook who has studied in multiple cities, so boxes and cans weren’t gonna cut it. Here, he bought me cooking lessons, but for both of us. Every Tuesday night we’d go learn our new techniques and spend the rest of the week honing our skills. It seemed romantic . . . little did either of us realize it would send me on a whole new path.