It's the Food, Dummy.

So, I'm trying to lose weight.

You must be so tired of hearing me say that, right? I know because I'm sick to freaking death of even thinking about food and my bathroom scale and the fact that I work out HARD.

SIX DAYS A WEEK hard.

Sweat dripping off the end of my nose hard.

Breathless, sore, straining not to fart, hard.

Yeah, so last week was a nightmare as far as trying to maintain my routine because I had to eat most meals out and when the energy was flagging and someone offered up a cupcake, I was all, "Give me two."

Early Sunday morning, I hopped on the scale, stepped off and went back to bed figuring that I must have been really groggy because there was just no way that the number I saw could have been correct. Two hours later, I jumped on again and immediately, I wanted to give up, ferry my fat ass down to the nearest Krispy Kreme and embrace the doughnut whore inside of me.

(And yes, I understand that my relationship with food isn't healthy.)

What bothered me the most was that no amount of good behaviour in the gym or in the kitchen made a lick of difference. The scale didn't budge. Since October, I have exercised regularly and been mindful of what I've eaten, limiting my indulgences to a single day a week. I've worked out longer and harder with no measurable results on the scale although I now have the beginnings of some shapely biceps that I kind of like.

My mother's input? "It's the food, Beth. You're eating too much."

In my head, I told her to get stuffed but out loud, I reassured her that I couldn't possibly be consuming fewer calories.

The fitness magazines I read told me that if there was a prolonged plateau in the weight loss, it had to be food related.

"Keep a food journal," they said. Not likely, I thought.

One afternoon at the gym, I had a conversation with a woman I see there regularly. She's roughly the same age and same height but her body is like a sculpted statue of a Greek goddess. I figured she must have some sort of secret because how in the world does someone get that body? So I asked her.

She gave me a lot of advice that day but the thing that stuck with me was when she said, "Weight loss is 20% exercise, 80% food." Hmm...back to that food thing again. No denying it.

So, I started using this iPhone app called "Lose It" that tracks calories and exercise that I had downloaded last year but neglected to use with any regularity. I began this past Sunday by logging the calories that I had consumed that morning for breakfast.

And then I shat myself.

I had two fried eggs, two pieces of toast with butter and two cups of coffee with cream for a grand total of 886 calories which is the equivalent of a Big Mac and small fries.

IT WAS THE FOOD!!

Imagine that.

My handy dandy calorie counter has not left my side since and this morning, a mere three days after my epiphany, I have lost 5.4 lbs.

The only sucky thing about all this newly acquired hope is that I'm going to have to hear my mum say, "I told you so."