Long time no blog! I’m lucky I even remembered my password to this bad boy. I said I wanted to start blogging on the reg, whoops. We’ll get there someday.
Today is a weird day. I’ve spent the last two weeks’ house and dog sitting for a friend. So today is the first day I actually get to spend at home. I should be cleaning, doing laundry and meal prepping. Instead I’m sitting on my floor, reflecting, blogging, eating pizza and watching Netflix. Priorities, am I right?
How on earth does any of that have to do with the title of this blog? For the past month, I have started, stuck with, and made progress on a part of my life that I either joke about, or pretend to the outside world isn’t much of an issue. Weight. Holy shit, buckle up we’re going there.
When I look back at my life one thing has always been constant. I have always been bigger than other people. I can honestly say I was an active child. I swam and ran around with my cousins every summer, I played soccer and basketball, been mildly active. However, I have always had an unhealthy relationship with food, and with binge eating. Maybe it stems from unresolved anxiety issues as a child, and grew into a monster as a teenager trying to grasp some type of control on a chaotic string of events that most people now go through. Divorce. I don’t know, honestly. I’m grasping at straws here, I’m not a shrink. I don’t like placing blame on situations or other people. All I know is this has been my reality for as long as I can remember.
For most of my adult life I have started, and failed miserably at losing weight. Why? Because I am an all or nothing person, and I’ve gotten in the habit of being lazy. I let the opinions of others dictate how I feel about myself. When I don’t see results as soon as I like, I swim in negativity, self-pity and self-doubt. I don’t know how to work out properly, instead of finding a way to educate myself, I give up. Or better yet, I place unrealistic goals upon myself and when I don’t meet them I tear myself apart, say fuck it, get a shit ton of fast food, binge eat, feel sorry for myself and give up.
WHAT KIND OF LIFE AM I LIVING?
I feel like a fraud. I am unapologetically me, to everyone in my life. I am sassy, stubborn, loud and dramatic. I am kind, compassionate, loving and loyal to a fault. Most recently I have had to admit to myself that I am a liar. I can sit and define myself all day long. I can tell you what I believe, my opinions, and give kick ass advice. I can talk about self-confidence and self-love, and learning to be okay with who you are. I’ve heard this shit for years, I can recite it like a script. All the while on the inside I am loathing everything that comes out of my mouth, because I’m not living it. How can I help other people when I can’t even help myself? How can I expect love or honesty, when I can’t love or be honest with myself?
I’ve belonged to gyms on and off since I was 18. When I went I would do a half ass work out and reward myself with pizza, or a coke, or something stupid and incredibly unhealthy. I would talk about what my goals were, like to lose 90 pounds in 3 months, and other incredibly stupid and unrealistic things like that. That’s all it’s ever been is talk, because I’ve never been willing to continue to put in the work to make my goals a reality. Little by little, I packed more weight on. Walking was tiring, standing at concerts was excruciating. I woke up in the mornings with my whole body hurting, my legs and feet were constantly swollen. I always felt bad, and if by some chance I had a good day where I didn’t feel like complete shit, I would overdo myself and pay for it the next day. Things no one would usually think about worried me. Would I fit into the plane seat on my way down to see my best friend? Can I pull myself back up onto the boat out of the ocean? What if the seatbelt in this car doesn’t buckle? What if I don’t fit into a booth? What if my shoe comes untied? I can’t bend over to tie it without breathing heavy. I can’t keep up with my friends. I lived in a constant state of embarrassment, so I spent most of my time at home, drinking wine and feeling sorry for myself.
HOW DID I LET MYSELF GET TO THIS POINT?
Towards the end of February my friend CP shared a link with me on facebook. It was for this place called MVP Dance Fit, they had a bunch of classes and did Zumba there, so I figured what the hell, let’s give it a try. I hadn’t worked out in months, I was at the highest weight I had ever been. We went to the Zumba class, and I came home and cried. I barely made it through an hour of cardio. I couldn’t do a jumping jack; I couldn’t touch the floor when I bent over. What had I done, how did I let myself get to this point? When would I stop this constant cycle of self-pity, self-hatred and pure laziness. What is it going to take for me to beat this? I don’t want to die from obesity.
So here we are…
A month later and here I am writing an incredibly emotional, raw, real and embarrassing blog that I’m sharing with potentially 620 people on facebook and whoever reads this stupid thing on wordpress. I’m happy to say that I’m changing my life, for real this time. I have been working out on a regular basis. I have found a place at MVP that is filled with fun, exciting classes that kick my ass, and make me want to go back. I have met women of all shapes and sizes who are nothing but kind and supportive. The instructors are helpful and push you. I have friends who are dedicated to going for their own reasons, which helps push and inspire me. I don’t dread working out, it’s come to be the part of the day I look forward to the most. I’m learning what to eat, and how to eat. I’ve stopped eating fast food and drinking pop for the most part. I’m staying hydrated and trying to truly make small changes and set small goals to make this a change in my lifestyle and not another halfhearted attempt that ends in failure and tears. In the last month, I’ve lost 23 pounds. I’ve had more energy on a daily basis. I’ve slept better, been less stressed and had significantly less aches and pains than before. All of this in a month, that’s crazy to me. I can’t imagine where I will be as I continue.
Today I caved. Today I ordered pizza, stuffed crust pizza to be exact and I ate three pieces. In the past I would have counted today as a setback, as a failure. It would have derailed me completely, I would have been ashamed and said fuck it, and binged. Instead I’m taking it for what it is. I wanted pizza, and because of that, I’m going to work out 4 days this week. I am a control freak, and I want to choose to be in control in a healthier way.
You, reading this. Whether we’re good friends, friends from high school, acquaintances, or family. I’m asking you for your help. I’m going to be that annoying person on social media checking in to classes at the gym, posting selfies in workout clothes, and god knows what else. I ask for your support and I hope you will help me stay accountable as I continue this battle against who I have let myself be in the past, and hopefully to grow into a healthier, happier, real me.
Here goes everything.
I wish you enough,