A story of Cookies, Mud, and Weights

I've been on MFP for almost 2 years now. I've written a few posts, made some friends, had some success, done some fun stuff, lifted some weights. and eaten a ton of cookies. Sometimes I like to share the things that this website, it's tools, and the people I've met have allowed me to do and the changes they've helped me make. So, here we are again.

My "Gee, I've gotten...big" moment




Me, 165 pounds.




This is where I would start my MFP adventure. I met some great people who told me to lift weights, so I did. They told me to watch what I ate, stick to my goal, but to always eat what I enjoyed and never deprieve myself, so that's what I did and thus my simply philosophy of 'Cookies taste better than Skinny feels' was born. I would never allow myself to care more about some arbitrary number or jean size or whatever than I did about finding enjoyment in my life.

I loved lifting.

I loved cookies.

I loved the stronger, faster, leaner body that lifting and eating was building me. Time went on and the people I meet because real honest to goodness friends, people I care about and love. (Awwwww) Some I haven't ever met in real life (Because they live places like New York and it's cold there.) and some I have. This leads us to my first Tough Mudder. With my husband and some of my nearest and dearest MFP friends I tackled a tough mudder. It was hard. It sucked. I may have cried a little on the inside. But I did it. I have pictures to prove it.



This is a wall.



Barbed wire.




Husband on a wall. He...looked that grumpy the whole time. Bless his heart.



Mud. Stinky sucking mud.




This is my husband. He's about as heavy as he looks.



It's OVER! Thank god.


This was something I'd never imagined I'd ever be doing. 10+ miles, a bunch of obstacles, a ton of mud. But it felt good. I climbed robes, climbed walls, bumped and bruised some peices and parts...but it felt good. I stood at the end with my headband on and just...knew that I'd done something that the woman I was in 2013, when I was 165 pounds and not happy with myself, wouldn't have dreamed of.

I'd lifted, eaten, baked, and snarked my way to being a person I'd never thought I could be. I could look back on all I'd done and truly believe that everything I'd done had been right for me. No silly fads, no low calorie amounts, no cutting out foods I love, no activity I hate or general unhappiness. I picked up heavy things. I ate all the food. I got strong. I was happy. I'd told myself that cookies>skinny and then I stuck to that with no regrets.

Sappy, right? Right! So enough talk and what we're all really here for: pictures!