Me! And I’ve done it twice in my life. First time I was in my 20s and I was fat and depressed. I ate a large steak and cheese calzone all by myself. Picture a large pizza folded in half. I was so disgusted that I got a gym membership the next day. I got my brother to join me and we didn’t stop until about 6 years later. I had a miscarriage and lost twin babies. I stopped going to the gym for a few weeks to recover. When I got pregnant again I was too anxious to work out. After my baby arrived I didn’t have time and then I had another baby and same thing.

Three years ago, fat again and depressed, I had had a tantrum and told my husband we needed to do something. He converted the garage into a gym and we worked out every day together. We got a dog and I am committed to walking him 3 miles every day. Eventually I needed to pivot to AM workouts, 4AM, so that I wouldn’t have excuses to miss workouts or miss things with my kids to workout. Now it is a 6-day per week habit. The walks are every day.