#Everydaydoz Turns One: A Reflection

Previous #everydaydoz blogs:
First 100 Days
300 Day Check-in

I'm starting this blog at 9:29 p.m. on April 1st, 2025, and feeling rather rusty since DOL is basically defunct at this point, so I apologize ahead of time if this blog is trash. I've covered a lot of this in my previous posts linked above and will try to keep it fresh (and relatively quick), so here we gooooooo.


One year ago today, I inadvertently started what would ultimately become 366 consecutive days (and counting) of exercise. I didn't set out to do this; it just happened—sort of like Forrest Gump's cross-country run. Since I've been very open and vulnerable throughout this ordeal, I figured I'd post the year update here instead of trying to fit it into an IG story.

The pandemi moore set ya boi back about a decade; my highest documented weight was 426.6 pounds in June of '22. I was eating myself to death...a passive suicide, if you will. Then, in November of 2022, I started working out again and began the fight to regain my life. I'd film a brief video update before each workout (which I kept up with until my car accident on my sister's b-day). I worked out 2-5 times a week until I moved in October 2023 and basically washed away all the progress I had made up to that point in my latest bout of depression and regret. I wasn't in the best spot. For New Year's 2024, I decided I wouldn't have fast food, which lasted until mid-March when I was in Vegas for a bachelor party. I knew I needed to do something to get my health back on track but didn't really have a plan (in many ways I still don't!). Fast forward a couple of weeks...On Thursday, April 4th, 2024, I realized I had worked out every day in April and decided to keep it going for the entire month. That grew to 58 days, then 100 days, and ultimately a year. Now we're here.

It feels a tad strange celebrating this accomplishment (even though it certainly is one...) because I am pretty upset with myself for not having better progress after all the work I've put in (a lot of it is self-inflicted, which we may get to), but mainly because of the state of the world rn. We're sprinting towards a full-fledged fascist regime. There's a genocide in the Middle East. Life is not super chill rn. Who gives a fuck about me and whether or not I biked while watching Blur music videos? I want to do things that actually matter and help people. Getting my health back is fantastic (however slowly), and it feels incredible to have people reach out and express their care. Still, I can't help but feel like I'm sitting around waiting to get shipped off to a camp, have my gorgeous locks painfully sheered off, and be a political prisoner in my own country because I know a little about history and have the balls to say fascism is wrong.

So much has happened over this past year, and that's where I gravitate when thinking about 366+ days of exercise. Regardless, if I didn't lose a pound, it's still a solid show of willpower and determination that I hope can inspire others to better themselves.  I'm numb to the number at this point. Sometimes, it feels like hitting 50 days was a bigger deal than 365. I haven't weighed myself. Partly because of fear, but mainly because I don't care. I just want to be healthy and look good. That said, I can't help but feel shitty. I want to be happier, but I'm miserable. In many ways, #everydaydoz is the glue holding my life together. Regardless of how rough a day is, what I've got going on event-wise, or how tired/depressed/broken I feel, I drag myself to PF (or occasionally the fitness center at my grandma's 55+ community) and put the work in. I know I'm gonna have to eventually take a day off, and like Forrest Gump, maybe one day I'll be like, okay, it's time to go home or whatever tf he said. Idk what the end game is. I think after 500 days, I may retire this bit, but who knows? I could be in a South American prison with other teachers well before then.

Despite my anger about my decisions regarding fueling myself, I am proud of this accomplishment and will take a moment to smell the roses. You have to enjoy the ride, not just the destination. This bit has shown me that my willpower is still in place and that I am capable of more than I give myself credit for. I did this bit to hold myself accountable. There was a stretch in the early 2020s where I didn't allow myself to be photographed. I hated who I had become and was full of shame. I'm still pretty full of shame, but I at least have a little bit healthier of a relationship with myself and no longer avoid having my picture taken like a vampire. There have been plenty of days I hated how I looked, but I still posted. At the time, this was the best way for me to hold myself accountable to, at the very least, exercise if I'm still gonna eat like I'm on death row.

I don't even know why I'm writing this other than to signify the one-year mark. DOL isn't dead, and I do wanna write more; I just don't have the emotional energy. If I'm not at work or the gym, there's a great chance I'm napping or trying to fall asleep. When I am conscious, I've used my free time to relax and try to escape the constant pain and fear that comes with living through a democratic backslide. But I wanna stop being afraid. I've let fear dictate my life, and I'm miserable. Like, am I fucking insane? What's wrong with me? I haven't even told the truth about a significant part of this bit being to show one person in particular how serious I am about bettering myself and that I'm worth investing in longterm. She said my size had nothing to do with it, and I believe her, but I want to feel good about myself. I had to change. Fuuuuck, there's so much I wanna say, but I'll stop. I guess we'll leave that in here and hope people speed-read past it.

I just need to use my voice while I still can. Sure, it's wicked fucking frustrating as a writer, teacher, and human to try to help others and constantly be ignored or shit on, but I have to keep going. We all have to keep going. I don't know how many more days #everydaydoz will last, but it has taught me considerably about myself. I just hope I'm able to find healthier ways to deal with life's frustrations. I don't want to binge. Physically, I feel better than I have in years. I often find myself in a position that was impossible to achieve years ago.

​I'll end with what matters most, and that's other people. Connection. Community. Togetherness. I feel so disconnected from people and fucking hate it. There's a million reasons why and my fucked up self-esteem plays a part, but it just really feels nice to have people care. I'm awkward and afraid. I'm trying every day to better myself, even if there are plenty of days where simply surviving is a win. I just want to have more energy and the ability to impact the world positively. Thank you soooo much for your support and kind words. I won't say her name for privacy, but a friend Venmo'd me $36.50 for making it to a year. Her message and the thought made me tear up. It was so fucking kind of her. There are so many other people I would've never expected to have reached out. It truly means so much more than this blog could ever say. Thank you all for the support. I want to be there for you (and am), even if I've been too nervous to reach out. I know I've alienated some with my beliefs, but I will never stop fighting for what is right. I want a just world for all where the ruling class isn't ruining our lives for their financial gain. Thank you for reading this. I love you all. ​Stop fascism.