For me, a high score on the ol’ stress inventory has always resulted in exercise outputs going down in inverse proportion to the units of alcohol, sugar and fat input. Yes, I know, those who can’t do become therapists and tell other people how to be all healthy and shit. So, last week, after another “quick, drop everything: someone’s gonna die” emergency, I evaluated the level of blobby-ness and said to myself, time to get the fleshbag back in shape.

Now, I’ve never been the type of woman to obsess about her weight or examine each calorie. Quite the contrary. It’s just that when I reach a point when I can’t recall the last time I worked out, and have that fuzzy-teeth feeling in my arteries, I know it’s time to stop neglecting the temple of me, which means stop making offerings of pizza and bubbly to it pronto. Ultimately, I know that I feel so much better when I lift regularly (and yes, force some form of cardio into the mix) and make pizza night an exception rather than a rule. In times of crisis, I tend to forget this (okay, ignore this reality) in favor of more comforting pursuits.

Starting tomorrow, September 1 I’m returning to a tried and true method of getting back in shape (and most importantly, back in balance and better able to both handle stress and enjoy life). I’ll be following Brad Schoenfeld’s 28-Day Body Shapeover workout plan (love it: tons of strength training coupled with a tolerable amount of cardio), partnering it with a return to my mostly vegan sensible eating habits.

Tonight, I enjoy a last meal of indulgence: pizza and cake – whee!

As a tool for keeping myself honest, I’m going to try to log each day’s progress here. If I get really fancy, there will be some photo food diary action. If I get really, really bold, there will be some before and after pictures as well. We shall see.

Alright, pizza awaits!