I spent this morning getting ready for work, and my mind—true to form—was wandering. Specifically, I was thinking about this blog and where it’s going. I mean, does it even have a direction? Or is it just a jumbled collection of my thoughts, like that drawer in the kitchen where everything you don’t know what to do with ends up? You know the one.
Every blog I’ve read seems to have a clear purpose: how the writer exercises, eats, dresses, does their makeup… or some other hyper-focused topic. Meanwhile, here I am wondering if anyone cares about the happenings of my everyday life. I’m sure my family and close friends do—they have to, right? But what about potential new readers?
Maybe this blog will find its purpose as I go. It’s like trying to steer a kayak through a lazy river—you can’t see around every bend, but you keep paddling. So for now, you’re stuck with my honest ramblings.
The Great Diet Debacle
Speaking of ramblings, let’s talk about my current “diet.” I’m happy to report it’s improved enough that I haven’t needed insulin, and my blood sugar is finally staying in the “good job, Tara” range. But here’s the kicker: I can’t even define what this diet is. It’s some sort of keto-ish, carnivore-ish hybrid sprinkled with my own rules. Basically, it’s the rebellious teenager of diets.
Keto and I go way back. About five years ago, I hit ketosis, lost 40 pounds, and felt amazing—all without exercise. But, as they say, all good things must come to an end, and mine ended spectacularly at Silverwood Theme Park. It was a hot day, and after hours of hauling kids around, my sisters, nieces, nephews, and I hit the food stands.
Picture this: everyone happily eating chicken strips and fries while I sat there painstakingly picking the breading off my chicken like a neurotic squirrel. Eventually, I caved. I ate the damn chicken strip—breading and all. And it was DELICIOUS. So, I ate another. Then I ate some fries. Then more fries. And I thought, “It’s just one day. I’ll get back on track tomorrow.” Spoiler alert: I didn’t. Instead, I gained back those 40 pounds—plus 10 bonus pounds, because why not?
Fast forward to today, and I’m taking a different approach. I still lean toward keto because it works, but I’ve built in flexibility. If I want a potato, I eat the potato. I live in Idaho, after all—it’s practically a law. And if a Crumbl cookie crosses my path? I might eat half of it (a whole one would probably make me sick anyway).
Why the flexibility? Because I’m more likely to stick with it. I don’t want to live a life where I feel like I’m missing out on birthday cake or holiday treats. I’m not here to preach my way as the way. You do you. Find what works for you and stick to it.
Exercise: The Necessary Evil
My first keto journey didn’t include exercise, and maybe that’s why I fell off the wagon so hard. This time, I’m adding in what I call “regular, purposeful exercise.” What does that mean? It’s not just racking up 10,000 steps at work. That’s work, not exercise. Purposeful exercise means going for a walk after work or finding something you genuinely enjoy.
Over the years, I’ve wasted money on gym memberships I didn’t use and fitness apps that didn’t grab my attention. But then I found the WalkFit app. Something about it clicked, and I’ve used it every day since downloading it. It’s simple: walking. No sports bra strangling me into a uniboob, no gym intimidation. Just me, my tennis shoes, and Odin (my trusty canine sidekick).
Walking is truly underrated. Even my mom’s cardiologist says it’s all you need for better health. Tonight, I walked 1.61 miles in 29 minutes, rocking my OSHA-approved reflective sweatshirt like the upside-down traffic cone I am. I felt just as good as I used to after 30 minutes on the elliptical, but with far less sweat.
Wrapping Up
Maybe next time I’ll share a favorite recipe (spoiler: it’ll probably involve cheese or bacon). For now, thanks for sticking with me through this rambling post. I’ll keep figuring things out as I go, both with my diet and this blog.
Cheers,
Tara Ann
Yesssss. Keep blogging.