Welcome to the Good, the Fat and the Hungry. I'm Karla and I have been -- or am -- all those things. Here, I will share with you my lifelong struggle with my weight, and I hope you'll follow along on with my determined attempt to lose the last 40 pounds. I promise to tell you every Wednesday about every win and setback along the way.

I've got good news! Nope, I didn't save a ton of money on my car insurance, but I did make a discovery -- I am completely normal. And that feels a whole lot better than saving a few bucks on insurance.

I just had the most special vacation I've ever had. I've been to other countries, tropical islands, whale watching, deep sea fishing and a host of other exotic locales, but this vacation tops them all. I went to Las Vegas -- as a normal person. I did not need any special accommodations, I sat in a normal plane seat, walked through normal turnstiles and sat by the pool in my swimsuit like a normal person. I took this trip to Las Vegas with a group of my girlfriends and had an absolute blast! For the first time in my adult life, I was just one of the girls on vacation, with my girls. I am no longer the fat girl of the girls, I'm simply 'one' of the girls. If I may say so myself, one of the better looking girls too.

Dining out is a pleasure when you are able to take the first available seat versus waiting for a table. My girlfriends had learned to be patient when we went out. After one too many embarrassing incidents of passing up booth seating because I couldn't fit, table waits just came with the territory. Not in Las Vegas -- booths, tables, bar seats, sit wherever you want, ladies! I am just fine.

One generation burned bras. For me, Las Vegas marked the burning of the swimsuit with a skirt. I certainly don't have a bikini bod, but at a bare minimum, this bod's in good enough shape to go skirtless. Admittedly, although I run, I've still got some thigh sag, but so what. What sags in Vegas, stays in Vegas. I allowed the 94-degree sun to shine on places it's never seen, and that felt pretty good. I slid on my first strapless evening dress and proudly displayed shoulders and arms -- thank God for my trainer, Jake. I turned down invites to dance, men wanting to buy drinks and because of all this, I turned down my plate. Fitness feels damn good.

I got up the nerve to run in 80-degree heat at 7 a.m., so no doubt, I was motivated. It wasn't the attention from men, the congratulations from my girlfriends who hadn't seen me, nor was it anything else external that motivated me. Quite simply, my motivation was that it's the right thing to do. Running in 80 degrees sounds plain wrong, but I did it and was ecstatic that I could. Having been the elephant in the room for so long, being just one of the girls is just fine by me.