Like I’ve said before, I love to eat.  I love food.  I think flavors and textures, colors and smells of our food are just one more beautiful gift from the Creator.  And let me assure you that I enjoy those gifts very much!

My passion for food and cooking has expanded over the last decade, and as my passion has expanded, so has my backside.  Because of carrying and birthing three lovely children and not having any excess energy to spend exercising, my body has become soft and fluffy.  Thankfully, I carry my weight in a way that is fairly easy to conceal, and gaining a few pounds here or there can go unnoticed by friends.  But I notice.  And I loathe my body at times.

Before there was any good reason to loathe my body, I loathed it.  I despised my hips, my bottom, the shape of my legs and arms.  I compared myself with athletic friends and Shape Magazine models, and in my eyes, I failed miserably.

When we married 13 years ago I was at my smallest.  I had used some graduation money and hired a personal trainer and he very quickly transformed my body.  Considering my body type, I was lean and muscular and I felt good.  But once we married and began sharing money, a trainer was a thing of the past.  I gained a few pounds and although I still exercised, I hadn’t found anything that I enjoyed playing at and with all the negative voices and poor self image, I eventually just gave up.  I convinced myself that my body wasn’t capable of being athletic or strong or beautiful.

And now, three children later and an amazing gain of 60+ pounds per pregnancy, I am heavier than I’ve been before.  I am sitting about 25 pounds higher than my smallest.  I can’t imagine what I was thinking when I thought I was large so long ago.  And in some ways, I’ve made a peace with my body.  After all, this body with all of it’s scars and stretch marks, moles and jiggles, did gift me three perfect babies.  My body deserves some credit and I can now appreciate the miraculous work it’s done.

And at the same time, I would like my jeans to not cause me to pant.  I would like my socks and my bras to leave terrific red marks.  I would like to be able to jump and not feel like the earth is shaking under my feet.

So here I am.  2011.  And I’m starting off the year with accountability.  I have friends and strangers all working towards the same goal and each holding me accountable.  Yes, there is a pot of money at the end of the three month period.  But there’s more than that.  There is a new hope of what my body can accomplish.  There’s a lifestyle I am working to call my own.  There are choices made each day, all day, and I am making them with a new awareness.

I want my children to see their momma as a strong, healthy, beautiful woman- beauty from the inside out.  A woman who is comfortable in her skin and full of confidence and love.  A woman who fought the fight and put in the sweat equity for a healthy life.  A woman courageous enough to do hard things and daring enough to make changes.

So here’s to accountability in 2011!  I am so thankful for the first week of our little community.