I had already made the decision that I wasn't going to go an ounce above the 248 I had just witnessed appear on the scale. I am sure I weighed more than that in the few months prior to braving the scale, however, since it wasn't documented I do not know the heaviest I have been. The feminist in me keeps telling me that the number is of no importance as it doesn't define me. The sociologist in me wants the exact and most accurate data. I still struggle with this. I didn't know if I should start with my food or my exercise. Either way, it seemed like it was going to suck monkey balls. So I started off slow. I cut out "real" soda and went to straight Diet Coke. Then I signed up for a functional fitness class at 6:30am on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I figured that this would be a good start to see how well I handled cutting back sugar and pushing my body to move. I was pleasantly surprised. After a few weeks, the scale started going down. It wasn't a