Today was my first weigh in over the course of six weeks that wasn’t successful. In fact, it was the opposite of successful, I actually saw a weight *gain.* Though I managed my food intake and avoid emotional overeating, my exercise was right out the window.
The surface excuse was that I didn’t feel well. In effort to ward off what felt like the onset of some kind of cold/flu, I decided not to go for my walks and put off my at-home exercise.
But if we dig a little deeper there was a bigger freakout going on just under the surface.
At the beginning of last week I was presented with the opportunity to do something I normally love to do. It gave me X amount of days to work on my income and work on my fitness regimen with a short term goal in sight. It was completely easy and doable at this time last week. But I promptly shut down to make it that much harder to do something that normally makes me happy.
Since I acknowledged this shameful secret to my best friend on Saturday, I’ve been trying to figure out why on earth I would do this to myself.
I still can’t tell you why – but I think I’m circling the runway.
It was so much safer to know that being a dramatic success was so far into the future, with manageable little steps in between. I’ve got a long way to go and I’ve settled into this comfortable routine that, in all honesty, doesn’t push me as hard as I probably could go.
I think deep down I still think I’m incapable of it – and I’ve created this environment where if it happens, it’ll be a happy surprise.
Taking a day at a time when you have months and months to go is a lot easier to swallow.
Knowing I wanted to really lose X amount of pounds by a much shorter time frame overwhelmed me, especially the idea that I just couldn’t pull it off like I truly wanted to.
Essentially if I see people I don’t normally see on a regular basis, I want to make sure the changes I’m making are not only noticeable but *noticed.* And I knew with all this extra weight, a 20 pound weight loss was nothing more than a sneeze into the wind.
I wasn’t ready to give myself credit for the progress I’ve made, I didn’t expect anyone else to do it either.
The general feeling of malaise was more from depression than anything else, and sparked almost immediately after this so-called good news. Immediately I spiraled into a backsliding pattern that hits every once and a while when I’m doing very well.
Give me the opportunity to succeed and I freak the f*ck out. Dunno why.
I self-destructed over this past week even if I didn’t set out to. That’s the bad news.
The good news is I didn’t punish myself with food. I kept to my calorie goals and even met my fitness goals of burning over 1200 calories last week. Not only that but I was able to recognize it fairly quickly before I could do more damage to my long term goals. With my one pound weight gain I have now put myself at my 2.5 pound a week goal over the course of these past 6 weeks. My projected weight loss and my actual weight loss has finally aligned at 15 pounds. Which means I’m still on track to meet my goal of hitting 1-derland (getting out of the 200s) by October, but I have no more wiggle room.
That’s the consequences of me giving over to the self-destructive side of me that feels I’m not worth reaching that goal, and not push myself as much as I know I need to be pushed. (“If I can’t lose X amount of weight by X time, then I’m just never going to lose anything ever ever ever ever,”… then I proceed to make sure I don’t lose X amount of weight. Why? I’m still figuring it out… at this point I think maybe I’m afraid of what it means if I don’t have the weight as a barrier between me and some of the people I know. Being the “fat girl” can be a safe thing sometimes.)
But despite all this I still have success to show for my journey – not only have I lost 15 pounds but I’ve lost 5 inches in the month of February. Those are the physical successes. That I can recognize almost immediately what kind of damage I’m doing so I can put on the brakes before I go completely off the rails is a much bigger and more important victory.
There’s no shame in stumbling, or even falling, as long as I can get back up.
So that’s what I’m doing by acknowledging the misstep and taking the steps necessary to get back on track.
This week I promised my Unstoppable Facebook Group that I would join a gym to amp up the calories burned per week. Right now I’m working toward my first fitness milestone of burning 3500 calories per week – which equals about one pound of weight. I’ll need a gym to do this, though I’m a little apprehensive about committing financially to any kind of program.
Not saying I can’t do this at home but I think a trainer is a good idea at this point, to teach me how to modify my workouts to my specific health problems and strive harder for my ultimate goals. This is the part that really scares me. I’d been holding back, afraid of health setbacks that would really sideline the goals – but Steven rightfully called BS on that. Sure I have to take my back into consideration, but that I was able to walk three miles yesterday within in hour shows me I’m ready to push myself a little harder than I have been. I’m thinking it’s a good time to get someone else to help pull that inner warrior out of me, who won’t pat me on the head or allow me to wallow in my own endless excuses.
Ironically, today I really do feel ill and I’m still going to have to soldier on and just make it all happen anyway.
The self-destructive side of me got one week. I’m not giving the bastard any more. It doesn’t matter if anyone else notices the metamorphosis I’m undergoing – *I* know I’m on the right path. And I’m the only one I’m doing this for anyway.
So I’m going to hold my head up. I may not have the success story I want right now, but I’m writing it word by word every single day.
My food journal courtesy of Sparkpeople.com.