My Fitness Frenemy

There comes a time in every person’s life when he or she looks in the mirror and sees this:


Wait… Really? Not everyone??? Alright, fine. But know that if you’ve never sobbed in traffic while texting your significant other that you wish you weren’t “built like the Pillsbury Dough Boy’s inbred cousin” (actual words- I checked), this post may not be for you.

For as long as I can remember, my relationship with food has been plagued by more drama, bathroom-sobbing, and overall emotional breakdowns than all 20 seasons of The Bachelor combined. Name any diet plan you can think of- South Beach, Atkins, Weight Watchers, low carb, no carb, Cabbage Soup, Master Cleanse (aka the Lemonade with Cayenne Pepper Diet), Major Depressive Episode, Weekly Chipotle Colon Cleanse, Poking At Your Stomach To See If It Goes Away, Just Cigarettes, Crying A Lot, Hungarian Tapeworm Implantation- and I’ve tried it, sometimes with disastrous results.

**Carly’s Into That Official Disclaimer: Do not, under any circumstances, participate in the Master Cleanse. You will cry; you will shit your brains out; you will cry WHILE shitting your brains out; you will experience visual hallucinations; you may or may not fantasize about eating non-food objects like your desk chair. I definitely didn’t! Not at all! Haha!**

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