So, let's rewind nine glorious months, shall we? The day my life decided to take a sharp left turn into the land of baby bumps and unsolicited advice. It started like any other day: two F45 classes, step goals crushed, and a perfectly balanced meal of high protein and Greek yogurt. You know, the usual. Then a sudden realization! Three days late. Three. Days. Late. My period, the reliable clockwork of my existence, had gone rogue. Cue the panic. I grabbed a test, peed on a stick, and there it was. Two lines. Instantaneously. Like, before I even had time to process what was happening. "That can't be right," I thought. So, naturally, I did what any sane person would do: drove back to the store and bought the test that spells it out in no uncertain terms. "Pregnant." Yep, that's what it said. And all of this happened before 7 AM. Because as previously discussed. I thrive on starting my days early. Now, I had a solid 11 hours to mentally spiral before I co...
So, you wanna know why you should listen to me? Fair enough. Let’s rewind. To really kick this blog off right, and inject some much-needed credibility into my future rants, we're going back to where it all began. Picture this: 18-year-old me, wide-eyed and ready to conquer the iron jungle of Gold’s Gym (now Momentum Fitness). I saw those bikini show prep girls, and I was hooked. I wanted that physique, that confidence, that… gallon jug of water? Now, let’s be clear, I wasn’t exactly starting from scratch. I’ve always had a naturally muscular build. But “on purpose?” Nah. I was clueless about nutrition, lifting, the whole shebang. But I was determined to become one of the gym bros complete with the cut off t-shirt to wear during my 2 hour stair stepping event everyday. And let me tell you, that era was… something. Unsustainable diets, glorified starvation, and enough supplements to make a chemist blush. Remember those days of eating 3-4 almonds to fuel a double workout? Yeah,...