Never have I ever

Remember that drinking game “Never Have I Ever”? (For the unacquainted: someone says a simple statement starting with “Never have I ever.” For example: “Never have I ever tried a spin class.” Anyone who has tried a spin class must drink.)

Well, up until this week, never have I ever gone on a cooking spree. In my life. Like, ever.

But over the last few days, I’ve made clean chicken masala, chocolate chip blondie brownies, tuna pasta salad and mini crustless quiches, all of which turned out amazing. This whole clean-eating thing isn’t just good for my shrinking waistline — it seems to be forcing me to get outside my comfort zone, roll up my sleeves and enter the place I used to dread the most (other than 5:30 a.m. boot camp): the kitchen.

(My mom probably did a little happy dance when she read that.)

In addition to my newfound “like” of the kitchen (love is a strong word), I’ve been getting my ass handed to me three times a week in boot camp. That, combined with Zumba classes and a gym visit each week, has motivated me to keep movin’ whenever and wherever I can.

I used to be that driver who would circle a parking lot six times until I could find a spot close to the store, rather than walk an extra 200 feet. (In my defense, my city gets down to -40ºC in the winter, so that’s partially why I’m such a wiener.) Now, I park further away so I can enjoy a little bit of extra walking (did I really just say that?).

In the morning, I used to shuffle, bleary-eyed, to the coffeemaker and stand there yawning while it made my happy juice. Call me crazy, but now I do squats while I wait for the Keurig to work its magic.

I feel stronger and healthier than I have in a long time, and it feels incredible. Could it be that this self-proclaimed Debbie Downer feels…happy?

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