I’ve got a secret. In fact, I’ve got a few, but this one seems the most controversial given the career I’ve created for myself.
It’s confession time.
I’m about to delve into a very personal journey and share photos of my body that genuinely make me cringe, but I want to do this to say ‘Hey, This is the REAL me.’ You deserve to know how I got here, and what I’m all about. Just excuse me whilst I wince my way through the next lot of awkwardness.
I’m The Fit Foodie. I’m supposed to be incredibly fit, and eat all the right things, all of the time.
Here’s the thing though… I did that for a while, and got incredibly sick.
I know you’re probably thinking ‘Sal, what the hell, how is that even possible?’, but in this world of beautiful imagery, impossibly pretty models and photoshop, I fell victim to social media envy. More specifically, envious of girls with perfect six-packs who demonstrated a level dedication to their exercise and diet that to date, I had simply not been able to reach.
In usual #fitspo style, their photos spurred me into believing that I could do it too, that I could absolutely have a washboard stomach. I was motivated by their words and selfies, and embarked on a gruelling program of exercise and dietary restriction.
I thought I was doing all the right things. Working out as often as possible- two hours per day, most days, with at least one hour of that as intense cardio. I was constantly strapped into my heart rate monitor checking to see if I had burnt more than the day before.