Week 4: Meal Prepping Made Me Cry

Dear diary,

This week, I decided to meal prep.

Because obviously, if I’m moving like an athlete (ish), I should eat like one too, right?

Spoiler: I cried over a butternut squash.

Sunday: The Day of Big Dreams

Armed with 72 Pinterest recipes and unrealistic expectations, I headed to the supermarket.

Bought: kale, quinoa, chicken breast, hummus, berries, oats, chia seeds. You know, "clean eating" stuff.

Also bought: two packets of biscuits, because... balance.

Monday: The Day of Big Chop

I spent TWO HOURS prepping food. I chopped like Gordon Ramsay with a grudge. At one point, I had six pans on the go and quinoa stuck to my elbow.

Everything smelled vaguely like regret and turmeric.

Tuesday: The Day of Big Tears

The kids came home, sniffed the air suspiciously, and asked, "Mum... what’s that weird smell?"

When I proudly presented my batch-cooked masterpieces, they ordered pizza.

Reader, I wept. Right there at the kitchen counter, holding my pyrex of lentil curry like a warrior felled in battle.

Mini Rant: Why Is Healthy Eating So Bloody Hard?

Between the mental load, the time, and the effort, meal prepping feels like another full-time job. And for what? So I can eat cold chicken out of Tupperware while fantasising about cake?

But here’s the thing... I had lunches ready for me. No sad grab-and-go sandwiches. No last-minute crisps. Just real food, made by real hands (mine!) for a real goal: fueling strength.

And that? That’s worth it.

Real Talk for Midlife Queens

Food is fuel. Food is self-respect. Food is freedom.

We’ve spent too long punishing ourselves for eating "badly." This time, it’s not about "good" or "bad" – it’s about strong.

Eat for energy. Eat for strength. Eat because you deserve to thrive, not just survive.

And if you cry into your meal prep occasionally? That’s seasoning, babes.

What’s Next:

Strength class incoming. Hope they’re ready for the full Jules experience: shaky squats, inappropriate jokes, and TYNA gear that actually keeps up with me.