Drop and give me 20

Today I flew into the McD's parking lot like a bat out of hell. I remember that song "Mind on my money and money on my mind" and you could replace money with McMuffin. I purposely didn't nibble on a stray (cold) Eggo from Xander's tray or a few blackberries (they the squisheded ones, mom!) from Zoe's plastic pirate plate with the full intention of my last meal being savored and enjoyed.

"What'll it be?" squawked the speaker.

"One McMuffin, no meat."

"Meat?"

"No bacon, please."

"Bacon? We don't serve bacon."

"Sorry. The #1 says 'Canadian Bacon'. I don't want that."

"You don't want the McMuffin? Huh?"

After three or four more minutes of this brain cell murder, we pulled forward with $2.77 in hand, ready for the best taste bud sensation in the world... The Egg McMuffin.

Honestly, I didn't even taste it. I just knew it was awesome and heavenly and divine. I threw back an ice water to stop myself from swallowing it whole, and we took off down University to The Healthy Living Center. The HLC is a cool new Y concept - it is a medical plaza with the swankiest Y ever in the middle. The concept is definitely a winner. Except, where I was going was within 10 steps of the cafe, which I really think is just mean.

The Center is full of people like me who have made excuses for why they eat, given reason to why it's okay to buy a larger pair of paints - again - because they must have shrunk, and who think a snack is 1/3 a package of Oreo's. Sadly, I am right where I belong in the middle of these misfits and have to do a major 180 in my lifestyle. The Center is my beacon. My beacon of hope that I can truly change from within while I change from the outside.

Zoe did her best to make sure I felt extremely guilty for placing her in the Child Watch area, after the fifteenth, "I'll Just Go With You!" I almost replied with a "Sure. Sounds awesome. Maybe this time you can clothesline yourself by sledding on the waxed floor on the doctor's stool, the blood pressure cuff, and a not-totally-pushed-in stirrup just in time for the doctor to walk in to see the whole show, in full tongue-depressor-in-each-nostril glory again!" I bit my tongue, kissed two sweet kids good bye, shielded my eyes from the Kit Kat on the top shelf of the free standing candy bin exactly 90 degrees and four feet to my right - and walked into the Center.

I still had a little McMuffin in my molar as I signed in, feeling guilty, and looked around to see a lot of tired eyes. Eyes that have been on 900 calorie diets for weeks, months, eyes questioning the one question I've been asking myself since we forked over $4000 for this insane life boot camp... Why did I make myself have to come to this?

After the panic-inducing weigh in I went back to the lobby to hear other's tales of horror and triumph. One guy was so hungry he chewed a dog biscuit because he didn't think it had any calories, as there wasn't a nutrition guide on the Milkbone box. Not good. Most of the people sat their with diet pops in their hands and I just wanted to say, "Just because you CAN have it, doesn't mean you SHOULD have it all the time!" but as a rookie, I knew it was best to keep my mouth closed.

And, as I learned in my first group meeting, learning to keep my mouth shut is exactly what I'll accomplish over the next 18 weeks.