I'm an all-or-nothing kind of girl. I was once a gym rat, a work-out-aholic, a health slut. I was weight-training four days a week and rearranging my social calendar around my favorite hip-hop classes. I was addicted to sweat, got high off of weight training, and drank protein shakes for dessert. I maintained this lifestyle for three years and was, physically and mentally, in the best shape of my life. Until...

I found myself in a major funk.

It was right around the time I turned thirty (which has nothing to do with anything, really.) It was also around the time that I took on a 30-year mortgage, moved to a new neighborhood, and quit my job - all while struggling with the seven-year marital itch that I swore didn't really exist. My world slowly crumbled around me and I was miserable. I didn't have the motivation, drive, or optimism to maintain a healthy mind, let alone a healthy body. My mood got the better of me, my body suffered the consequences, and my mind hated my body for giving up at a time when strength was so crucial.

I hardly recognized myself. What was once an outlet for me became the last item on my daily to-do list. new workout gear, which usually motivated me, became my new favorite outfits for lounging around the apartment and watching reality tv. Although I had finally found the perfect gym bag, I quickly filled it with my hats and scarves, rather than my gym clothes. For the first time in my life, I had to buy new jeans because i literally could not get mine past my knees.

My self-defeating attitude didn't help - the more I slacked off and the more Doritos I consumed, the more depressed I became. The more depressed I became, the more I felt sorry for myself and the more french fries I ate. I had fallen into that vicious cycle that many women can relate to.

I'm somewhat comfortable (and slightly sad) when my friends tell me that I look better now than I did when I was sporting a six-pack. I definitely fear that I've become complacent and have adapted too easily to my non-active lifestyle. But I'm also hopeful that my year-long break was disguised as a much-needed hiatus from my fitness addiction. Perhaps my body needed the comfort of chubby hubby and time to recuperate, more than it needed five meals a day and a kick-boxing class. But now that I've had a long, restful recuperation period, I am ready to re-commit to being in the best shape of my life.

All I need, of course, is a hot new workout outfit.

What Do You Think?