As a result of my recent complaining to my daughter that my weight was creeping higher and higher, she set me up with a fitness app.

For just $99 per year, I am now able to stream hundreds of workouts on my television, phone, or computer.

My favorite workout is called the 21 Day Fix.

My streaming trainer Autumn’s favorite thing to say while I huff and puff:

“You give me three weeks; I’ll give you the body you always wanted.  And it will get easier, I promise.”

Sorry Autumn, but it’s going to take way more than 21 days to fix what I did to myself.  And I’ve been hanging in there with you for 40+ days now, and it’s NOT getting easier. And BTW, I’ve lost two puny pounds.

The best part of Autumn’s routine is when she shouts 3-2-1 nicely done.

But I keep on trying. Because what’s the alternative?

So, every day, I force myself to stream the 21 Day Fix and jump around my bedroom as best as a 66-year-old can.

The only results I’ve seen so far: My knees are killing me, I have a crick in my neck, and a non-stop Charlie horse in my abdomen.

Last week my abdomen hurt so bad I looked up the symptoms of a hernia.  I was sort of hoping I had one so I could quit working out.

Okay, I did lose those two measly pounds.

Until this year, when I would hear my friends complain about their muffin top, I didn’t know what that was.

Oh, but now I do.

The first sign of that belly blob over my jeans caused me to bolt over to my computer and type in Muffin-Top.

Yep. I have the muffin thingy.

According to the Urban Dictionary: “Muffin-Top is a word used to describe the unsightly fat that bulges over the offender’s waistline.”

OFFENDER?

Dang. Who knew?

First thing I did after reading the Urban Dictionary was to throw out all my below-the-belly-button pants, jeans, and leggings.

Next, I ran out and bought a bunch of mom-type lower body clothing.

Then I turned on my television and slogged through another Beach Body workout with my new bestie Autumn.

I so wish that exercising was as easy as eating.

My allergies started out gradually and crept up on me.

First, there was a metal taste in my mouth like I was chewing aluminum foil whenever I drank red wine, ate a handful of assorted nuts, a few cherries, or a side of mixed vegetables.

Then, in addition to “metal mouth,” it seemed like certain fruits I ingested, like apples, peaches, plums, and even raisins, would tingle my tongue or itch my throat. I had no idea what was going on.

Plus at night, I would writhe around for hours with abdominal pain, severe nausea and such intense stomach palpitations that I thought there was a jackhammer digging a crevice inside of me.

I went through untold numbers of laboratory, radiological, ultrasound, and endoscopic testing.  I suffered through a colonoscopy, a cystoscopy, and a CT scan.

After months of tests, my gastroenterologist sat down with me to tactfully explain my problem: It was psychological. He suggested I try a psychologist.

Really? All those raucous parties in my belly were caused by crazy?

Turns out he was almost deadly wrong.

I eventually discovered the reason for my “problem” the hard way—by snacking on a bunch of raw baby carrots, which caused an allergic reaction that almost killed me.

I had somehow developed a “priority allergy” and was little by little becoming deathly allergic to carrots. I had also developed a severe case of fruit-pollen syndrome.

I was later told by an allergist that in addition to having the fruit-pollen syndrome, my priority allergy to carrots, triggered a systemic reaction in my body that induced a near fatal outcome when my severe tongue swelling frightfully cut off my ability to breathe.

The way it was explained to me, is that my allergy to certain tree, grass, and weed pollens is why even a sliver of a carrot has become my mortal enemy.

The pollen molecules of weeds and certain trees like birch, alder, poplar, are so similar in structure to the proteins in certain raw vegetables and fruits that one of the body’s natural defenses against allergens—an antibody called immunoglobulin E—can’t tell the difference.

So when the antibody binds to a fruit or vegetable protein, anyone allergic to the pollens I described above, may develop an immune response that can cause metal mouth, itching, and tongue tingling.

The reaction can actually bypass the mouth and enter the gastrointestinal tract, causing severe abdominal pain, stomach palpitations, and nausea.

And my gastroenterologist didn’t know this because?

Now that I am allergic to birch pollen, I have also developed an oral allergy to apples, pears, peaches, plums, apricots, cherries, hazelnuts, cashews, almonds, and kiwis. And it seems that every day I discover another annoying food I’m allergic to.

I recently ate a slice of rye bread and spent the next few hours itching and coughing, while clutching my at-the-ready EpiPen.  And then there was the lip swelling and tingling I experienced after drinking a Corona beer. Go figure.

I am also severely allergic to mold, which triggers my asthma, as well as dust mites, and pet dander. All three cause me to cough, wheeze, become dizzy and lightheaded, and run for my Epi.

Wool, many laundry detergents, sunscreens, eye shadow, nail polish, face makeup, mascara, shampoo, conditioners, perfume, and most fabric softeners give me severe hives. But the good news is—they won’t kill me.

But the worst allergy for me is called weed mugwort and has caused mild to near fatal allergic reactions in my system to carrots, bell pepper, caraway (thus the rye bread), coriander, aniseed, fennel, cinnamon, paprika, chamomile, green tea, and cumin.

There are a few foods I can still enjoy without my stomach cramping and my mouth tasting like metal. These foods include broccoli, cauliflower, potatoes, lettuce, cheese, tomatoes, peanuts, green onions, cabbage, watermelon, bananas, melons, citrus, tropical, and berry fruits.

So far, that is.

I have been warned that based on my allergic reactions to so many foods, and my anaphylaxis allergy to carrots, that there is an increased chance of my allergies progressing to a more severe reaction.

The bottom line for me is that I have a 50/50 chance that if I accidentally eat a carrot, I will go into anaphylactic shock and I could die.

So I carry two EpiPens and a bottle of liquid Benadryl with me at all times.

It was strongly suggested to me by my allergist that I purchase several EpiPens for home, in the car, in my purse, and in the office. Because, believe me, I can now attest to the fact that once the tongue starts to swell, your breathing passage gets blocked very quickly.

Most EpiPens come in a set of two. And EpiPens should be replaced every 12-18 months. My expiration date states 18 months, but last time I replaced my Epis at 12 months. Why would anyone take a chance and wait 18 months?

The last thing you want to do is stab yourself in the thigh while your breathing has all but stopped, only to find out that your EpiPen has expired and is too old to work!  That means death folks. I’m not joking.

I can’t even fathom how I would handle having a child with a deathly allergy. It must haunt parents 24/7. The only thing that can save your child from an anaphylactic allergy attack is to stick them in the leg with an EpiPen. But what if you’re not around? What if they’re at camp, in school, at a friend’s house?

As an adult, I can handle the realization and stress that I can die anytime, anywhere, anyplace. But there is no way in hell I could accept that kind of fatal possibility with my child.

I don’t know how a parent lives with the worrying all day every day. I do know they must buy a shit load of EpiPens to ward off any and all possibilities.

If I had a child who had an anaphylactic allergy, I would buy Epi sets for school, all the cars, friend’s and relative’s houses, camp and wherever and everywhere else.  And this is where a psychologist would probably come in handy.

Now comes the ridiculously unfair and outrageous part of the whole situation.

In 2013 I paid $264.50 for a two-pen set. I thought the price was absurdly expensive, particularly since I wanted to purchase at least four sets.

Now? The current price is about $640 a set.

The company Mylan, has a monopoly on the product for at least one year. That is when a generic competitor will hopefully enter the market.

Until then, Mylan is just straight up greedy, and is just another example of what happens when a monopoly situation ends up in a company’s lap.

It’s morally wrong, and shame on Mylan for putting innocent children at risk of death. Not to mention me.

Now, if I want to purchase a set for my car, my husband’s car, my purse, and my office, I need to shell out approximately $2,560. Will I get reimbursed? No, because I have a high deductible health plan.

And how about the families who can’t afford even one set? Or worse, who have no insurance?

If I had a child with anaphylactic allergies, I would buy as many as I needed no matter what the cost. I couldn’t and wouldn’t take any chances whatsoever with the life of my child. Who would?

But for my personal situation?

I carefully safeguard my two measly EpiPens and my bottle of liquid Benadryl, and take them everywhere I go. And I’m already at 16 months with the same pens.  Stupid decision, I admit.

A letter to Congress called “Stop the EpiPen Gouging” asks that there be an investigation and regulation into the 420% increase (adjusted for inflation!) in the price of EpiPens since 2004. And so far, 116,620 letters have gone out. Take that Mylan.

Please click on this link and fill out the form right now?

Your letter might not save all of the people who die from anaphylaxis this year, but it might save the life of one person.

As someone who was the skinny girl growing up, I could eat pretty much anything I wanted. My friends and family watched with jealousy, as I scarfed down French fries, banana splits, pizza, Twinkies, and the fatty like. It wasn’t until I quit smoking (because I was pregnant), did my fat intake catch up with me.

I gained over 100 pounds during that pregnancy—and I have to admit, I savored every last fat gram.  Hovering around 225 pounds, I was hoping to deliver a 50-pound baby. Nowhere near 50, but at almost 9 pounds, my first born came via C-section. As if having my stomach muscles cut in half wasn’t enough, I was obese, depressed, in excruciating pain, and insatiably hungry. I left the hospital a little over 205 pounds, and I was freaked.

Since food and weight gain had never been an issue for me, I was in the dark as to next steps. Plus, I couldn’t do anything physically strenuous for 6-8 weeks post C-section.  On top of that, I was on maternity leave from Newsweek magazine and was required to return to work 4 weeks after giving birth. To put it mildly, I was one huge blob of misery.

I absolutely 100% wanted to get back to work as thin as possible. Yeah right. In my mind, even if I lost 20 pounds by the time I reported for duty, it was like removing a quart of water from the Long Island Sound. I waited as long as I could (a week before work D-day) to go through my closet.  Sure, I had lost a few pounds, but nothing I tried on came close to fitting my new overly svelte self. Even my shoes were too small.

So I ran over to my go-to boutique, where I was a regular customer and gave the saleswoman a cheery hello. She looked at me with disdain and I quickly realized that she didn’t recognize me. I decided to keep my identity to myself when she snottily informed me that I looked to be a size 16 and the largest size she carried was a 14. Ouch. I was humiliated and browsed around unassisted, hurt and ashamed. I managed to tearfully squeeeeeeze myself into a size 14 while vowing to lose the weight if it killed me. I bought several suits, and a few pair of shoes and skulked out of there as quickly as I could.

The day after my humiliating shopping excursion I called my obstetrician’s office and frantically asked if he was in. His receptionist/office bully blandly asked me what my problem was.  “I’m fat,” I whimpered pathetically and tried every which way to get the doctor on the phone. “I’ll make sure he gets your message,” she uncaringly responded and bid me a curt goodbye.

My next call was to a diet doctor who answered his own phone and set me up with an appointment—that day. When I arrived, he weighed me, measured my waist circumference, and snapped some photos. Then he sat me down and gave me the dispiriting low down.  According to Dr. Diet my fat cells needed to be retrained. And he strongly suggested that I consume no more than 20% of total fat based on a daily intake of 1,200 calories. The 20% he recommended, equated to a measly 24 grams of total fat daily. He also suggested that I analyze the Nutrition Facts labels to find foods highest in vitamins and minerals and lowest in carbs, saturated fats, and sugars.

Thus began my intense fear of fat.  I was like a nutritional label maniac. I read with due diligence every single food label I could get my hands on and calculated every calorie, carb, sodium, fat and sugar gram I put into my mouth.  And I began working out. Thirteen months later, I had lost nearly 100 pounds!

I make it sound easy, and I’m giving you the bare minimum cliff notes. Those thirteen months were the longest of my life. But all the hard work paid off.

Here are some important lessons I learned along the weight loss way.

First off, a measly 1,200 calories a day left me feeling hungry—but I still had enough energy for some mandatory exercise. And at 1,200 calories I was able to shed a good amount of weight every week, especially if I added in the dreaded daily workouts. I also eventually realized that good fat was necessary for energy, vitamin absorption and healthy brain development. And drinking water filled me up, so I drank lots and lots of it. And I tried to burn more calories than I consumed. I repeat, I tried.

I forced myself to stick to the old adage: Eat Real food. Not too much. Mostly plants.

And I stayed far away from stuff like monosodium glutamate, high fructose corn syrup or Yellow No. 5. These ingredients are found in most processed foods on grocery store shelves, from chips to ketchup. And they have been linked to everything from cancer, obesity and diabetes to brain and liver damage. If there is anything on the nutritional label you can’t pronounce, don’t buy it.

Potassium sorbate is used as a preservative in many foods. It’s also used to kill bugs. And sucralose is often used as a sweetener, but it contains chlorine. Do yourself a favor and go for the gusto with plain old sugar.

Oh and avoid anything white, like bread, pasta, rice, sugar and flour. White means it’s bleached so unless you like to eat bleach, stick with whole grains.

BAD: Saturated Fat, which increases your risk of developing heart disease. Saturated fat is present in high-fat meats such as bacon, and full-fat dairy foods like ice cream, butter, sour cream and whole milk.

BAD: Trans Fat, which increases your unhealthy blood cholesterol levels and reduces your good cholesterol. Trans fats are present in fried food, shortening, margarine, and most processed foods.

GOOD: Unsaturated Fat can help improve blood cholesterol levels. Heart-healthy, unsaturated fats are found in nuts, seeds, nut butters, fish oil, avocado, salmon, tuna, olives and plant-based oils such as soybean, flaxseed, canola, olive, walnut and peanut oils.

Saturated or trans-fat molecules have a natural tendency to bond with each other on contact, resulting in the formation of artery-clogging plaque.

Unsaturated fat contains larger molecules that tend to slide past each other in the bloodstream, resulting in little to no plaque build-up.

Bottom line: Eat less processed foods, and more fresh vegetables, fish, whole grains, and lean meats like skinless poultry.

Stick with pork, lamb or beef cuts with “round” or “loin” in the name and choose meat between 90-95% lean. If it’s within your budget, choose lean cuts that are free-range, organic or grass-fed, since most commercial cuts contain antibiotics and hormones. Grill, bake, steam, poach, or broil lean meats to keep their fat content low.

As obsessed as I was with fat-free, it came as no surprise to my palate that it was mostly taste-free. To make up for no taste, food makers tend to use ingredients like sugar, salt, and chemicals, so don’t be fooled by the whole fat-free scam.

The most shocking thing I learned through the weight loss process is that people don’t give overweight folks the respect they deserve. When I was overweight, I was painfully invisible. And so many people made shallow assumptions about me without even bothering to look beyond my physical appearance.

I learned that I couldn’t control how other people treated me, but I could control how I treated myself. I made sure to make “me” time, and made my health a priority. And I took one day at a time. And if I messed up? I took a deep breath and began again.