I just realized it has been 20 days since I started this blog. They say it takes 21 days to make a habit. Unfortunately, I haven't been dedicated enough to this. It's been almost a month and I know I could have definitely made more progress than I have. I have used several of the excuses I even rambled on about in my post about debunking the common excuses. I'm trying not to be too down on myself. I mean, at this exact moment I'm wearing a pair of pants comfortably that less than a month ago gave me horrible muffin top, pants I had to struggle to get in and out of, meaning that every bathroom break I took required a few extra minutes. That's something I should be proud of.
And don't get me wrong. I am proud. I do weigh less than I did when I started. But I haven't done nearly as well as I could have. Which is frustrating. It's always frustrating when you know your capabilities and you don't meet them. I'm really itching to get a new pair of new shoes. My favorite black pair are now black with a white tip. I got these shoes over three years ago for my baby shower with Wyatt. I had been planning on rewarding myself with a fresh pair of shoes once I earned them. Unfortunately, I have not yet earned them. Bummer. I was even excited to work out last night, but instead I ended up going to bed early. And on one hand, it was the first night I'd gone to sleep before 1 AM in almost two weeks and I really did need the sleep, but I've skipped far too many work outs.
I haven't made this a habit...yet. But I'm more determined now than I ever have been before. And seeing my results is actually very motivating. Like these pants. Awesome. I think this blog is pretty good for me too. It makes me feel accountable. This is also one of the first times I have worked on losing weight for myself. Every other time has been to impress someone else, typically a boy, and this time I am doing it to be healthy, to be comfortable in my body, and with the hopes of keeping up with my little guys! I think when you are your own motivation, it helps a lot. I'm proud to be doing this the right way. I'm envision of those who lose the weight quickly, especially with diet pills or wraps, I'm jealous that they don't have to work as hard for it. But I'm so proud of myself.
I'll admit. I came close before. So close to "just trying" a diet pill. It had good reviews on amazon and was only $19! I just could not bring myself to do it though. I reasoned with myself that "once I lost weight I wouldn't be as out of shape and working out would be easier." Newsflash! It doesn't get easier. YOU get stronger! This was months ago, when I sat on my couch with a plate of doritos wallowing in self pity and weight dismay. No, I'm not even exaggerating.
I wanted to be skinny, I looked at old pictures of myself and just stewed. I have always thought I was over weight but looking at pictures I knew I wasn't. Even my arms and legs were slim and adorable. There was no hint of a double chin, I had a small belly but I was tiny! I got so upset over looking at how skinny I was that it seemed like the only reasonable thing to do at the time was get a tub of ice cream.
My dirty little secret? I love cake batter. Favorite thing ever. I would reward myself with cake batter. Just a bit of the powder in a bowl mixed with water and it still tasted good without the risk of salmonella. I'm so ashamed to even admit that. I would decide that I would go on a diet starting Monday and would then just binge eat insisting that I needed to one, get it out of my system because I wouldn't have anything of this stuff any time soon, two, I needed to get EVERYTHING fattening out of the house RIGHT NOW (because God forbid I just show a little restraint?), a three, I reasoned that heavier people lost weight quicker so if I gained a few pounds it would just come off a little quicker, I was practically doing myself a favor!
I look bad at who I was, just months ago, and I'm disgusted. Disgusted with the way I mistreated my body, the way I spiraled out of control, the way I turned to food to cheer me up, to entertain me when I was bored, and to make me happy and excited. My anxiety was through the roof! Getting dressed for work took almost an hour because I would try on almost every outfit I had looking for anything that I looked half decent in. I lived in denial of the growing tightness of my pants by avoiding them. So I wore leggings almost daily and sweat pants or pajamas when I was home. My self esteem and weight issues made me want to hide in my room, I got anxiety about leaving my house because of my weight, I hated taking pictures of myself, even selfies, I hated getting dressed, I even wished I could be anorexic or bulimic so that I could lose weight.
Tell me how ridiculous that is. If I wanted to lose weight, why not DO SOMETHING about it? Bulimia? Anorexia? I guarantee you are far more stressful and difficult than working out is! I was getting chest pains, and I started taking up some light yoga and believed that the knee pain I began experiencing was because I stretched too far. In reality, it was probably because of my weight. The chest pain, I believe was very likely due to the ridiculous level of anxiety I was reaching, but never went to a doctor to have it confirmed. I know, chest pain is nothing to mess around with but for me, neither are doctors.
It wasn't until one day that it struck me...I want to be healthy. Not just skinny, though it is a hell of a plus, I want to be healthy. I remember it as a very emotional moment. I went upstairs with Wyatt and was laying in bed praying with him and I was just so out of breath from the climb up the stairs! I went back downstairs and sat on the couch, looked around my messy house and decided I was just way too tired to clean it. I would be sure to get to it tomorrow though (I'm so sure). I was discussing 'skinny pills' with a friend via text and I just said "I don't want to take pills. I can't be proud of my weight loss if I cheat." and she said "I don't care I just want to be skinny again." And I replied, without even thinking about it, "I want to be healthy."
It's like a light lit in my head clicked on all of the sudden. I want to be healthy? I mean, no one wants to be unhealthy. Obviously. But...I want to be healthy? I had to really think about that. For so long, I thought I wanted to be skinny. I still wanted to be skinny didn't I? Yes, I still wanted to be skinny. But I wanted to be healthy? It was surprising. I'm 21 years old, most healthy 21 year olds don't think about health, it's just something they assumed they are and will stay. I looked around my house again and I thought I just wanted to be better. Not just look better, but be better. So I got up, and I did the dishes and I examined myself, and all of my decisions. And I realized my issues stemmed much deeper than just needed to shed a decent number of pounds.
All of the sudden I had all of these new things I wanted that I couldn't get out of my head but I had never really thought of before. I thought of both of the kids graduations, college of course, and imagined myself with rolls upon rolls, or even worse, in a wheel chair. What if my caffeine addiction led me to be insulin dependent? I ate far too many carbs, that would simply never do. I wanted to meet my grandchildren, my great grandchildren even! When the kids looked back at their childhood when they remember me chasing them through the yard with a squirt gun, building igloos in the snow with them, or would they remember watching tv, watching me watch tv? Would they grow up saying "I need a girl who can cook like my mother!" or would they simply grow accustomed to chicken nuggets and over baked pizza? Was my weight, and my diet, my laziness, my slobbiness, was this entitling me to be the mother I wanted to be? How long would I be around for my kids, how long until my arteries are clogged and I'm needing round the clock care?
I started thinking someday, I'm going to run in a marathon. I'm going to be featured in those before and after pictures with an inspiring story. I want my kids to play sports, or dance, or do something active! I was always horrible at sport, I couldn't even hit a base ball, I was even bad at kick ball. I didn't want them to suffer that sort of humiliation. I didn't want them to lie about how much they weigh out of embarassment as early as the first grade! I wanted my boys and any future kids to grow up feeling proud of their mother, and proud of themselves in every aspect. And I needed to be healthy to make all of this happen. And suddenly I realized being skinny was just an added bonus to being healthy! And suddenly, my weight was just a number. And my body wasn't something large and flabby that I was just stuck in, suddenly my body was the only thing keeping me around for these kids, the one tool I could count on to get all of my chores done. My body was just one of many things I was severely keeping under kept. And my body was just one of the things I needed to learn to love and respect. But even more than that, I needed to learn to love and respect myself.
And all of this leads me back to where I am right now. I may not have had the best week last week. But I can guarantee you even my worst healthy week is better than my best junk life. So after writing this whole thing down, I just came to the conclusion that even though I probably gained weight last week, and even if I haven't worked out as much as I should have been I'm still stronger. And I have the will of someone who wants to be better. And that goes a long way.
Stay strong.
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