Well here goes. I weighed in this morning, lost roughly 12 lb. since February 28. I say roughly because when you hop on and off the scale the way I do, leaning one way, then another, weight on your toes, then on your heels, feet to the outside, then more to the middle, it’s a dance that I do on weigh in morning and I got a difference of 2 lb. between them all, so I’m taking the average. I have done Insanity Mon-Fri, religiously, tracked my calories, and had shakes to replace one meal…most days. I am one month into this process and I am seeing changes. Not only in my body, which is probably where I am seeing the least changes, but also on the inside.
I keep asking myself, is this something you are really willing to do on an ongoing basis?? The first few weeks trudging down to that basement was a chore, it was a grueling, frustrating, all caps, sharpie written task at the top of my to-do list. Now, it’s beginning to look a little more like the rest of my to-do’s, penciled in but still near the top, just under COFFEE. That’s a good thing for me, it’s not so much this huge change, this exception from the norm, it’s more EDL. (Every Day Life) It’s like a part of the process, getting my day done, I say to myself, Time to go sweat a
little lot, and then on to what’s next. So…in that way, I’ve changed. I think, I can actually make exercise a part of my life, maybe not Insanity, forever…but real movement, real exercise. If I were honest, I would love to run. I’m 38, running is probably not the sport a morbidly obese severely obese thirty-something should start, but I feel like I have a few good years left in me, I could probably run out a few of them. I would LOVE to train for this in late October, Zombie Survival Dash.(Nodding head like ahhhh-yeaaahh)
About other changes. Anxiety. I am seeing someone. Not like seeing seeing but seeing a therapist. Wow, that’s sounds intriguing and this little voice inside my head says with a raised eyebrow and devilish grin, Tell me about it. Okay, I will, here’s the scoop. One day I was talking to a friend of mine that I love dearly, she’s been a friend since my college days and she sees a therapist and is always talking about what they talk about. So one day I’m like: Hey! Why don’t I have a therapist?! So, I go out and get one, that’s what I do. I figure I might as well do it when I am trying to better myself, trying to let go of this ridiculous obsession with chips and chocolate. I’ve been on this path before, I’ve started this whole go me movement, and I always bail, always quit, this time, it has to be different, it has to stick. So, I did what any self-respecting woman would do, I got a therapist.
Let’s talk about her. Monday I drove up to the office like a bat out of hell, no kidding. I was late because I squeezed in my workout and left myself with 10 minutes to shower and drive 3 miles away, didn’t work out so well. I leapt out of my mini-van I swore I’d never drive and bounced up the steps to the office. I knew we’d have great things to discuss, I was on plan, working out, feeling great! I walked into her office, sat down on the comfy couch and right into her big brown, inviting eyes. Her soft relaxing music played and as she asked me how my week was going I could feel them…yep, the tears, welling up like a little 7-year-old girl who lost her puppy dog. I don’t even know why, she just has that effect on me. I went in to lament about my husband, and didn’t end up saying a word about him. It was all about me. I found myself at the end of session wanting to cry out, “WAIT! YOU HAVEN’T HEARD MY COMPLAINTS ABOUT MY HUSBAND YET!!” I didn’t. It was good, we talked anxiety, my past, why I deserve to do this, and how God wants to heal me for the sake of healing me and nothing else. I walked away feeling whole. I’m glad I got a therapist. I bet my husband is too.
It’s weird putting myself first. I feel like I am really trying to make my life and my quest to eat well and exercise first a priority. I make time for it, if I don’t get the whole house vacuumed and dusted but I got my workout in, so be it. No one outside my perimeter will know and those inside, frankly probably don’t care. The only one who puts extreme pressure on me to have an immaculate home is me, and that’s pretty freaking unfair of her. She’s relaxing a bit.
So, on to month two. Really, my next goal date is 6 weeks from now, that’s my best fren’s wedding, and yes I did spell friend, fren, because that’s the way I like to say it. I really would like to feel comfortable in my own skin and I feel like losing 30 lb. would do that for me. It would enable me to feel empowered and proud of myself when I go back to the ATL. I’ll still be 60 lb. away from goal, and 30 lbs away from being
morbidly obese. STOP THE PRESS!!! I just looked up the weight charts for obesity and it seems I have some rather interesting news (there’s that raised eyebrow and devilish grin me again saying do tell!) I’VE NEVER BEEN MORBIDLY OBESE! (Dripping with red-neck twang) Well…hot damn if this ain’t a reason to celebrate! I’ve only been severely obese ladies and gents, that’s nothing to “Step right up for!” I couldn’t have even been a money-maker in a side-show and that’s something to be right proud of! Seems they added the severely obese cater-gory and I never knew it… (end red-neck twang)
If I lose the additional 18 lb. by May 12, I’ll simply be…Obese. Hallelujah, I can work with that, and who ever thought I would be excited to be “Obese.” Have a blessed day.