I haven't just fallen off of the wagon, I think I got run over by said wagon. The last 4 months have been the most stressful and yet, the most wonderful of my life.
On October 7th, I got married. It was such a beautiful, honest, fun, exhilarating day. I do not regret anything about that day. It was so amazing and I felt more beautiful that day than I ever have in my life. Of course, I could've worked out more (at all), done push-ups to tone my arms, etc, etc. But, I didn't. And I was still a beautiful bride. I was marrying my best friend, surrounded by my friends and family and I was as happy as one person could possibly be.
I am still struggling with living in the "real world", as far as working a job with normal-people hours. I have about an hour commute to and from work, and that seriously eats up my day. For the last month, we were running around getting ready for a HUGE event. Working 70 hour weeks. Rewarding ourselves with pastrami sandwiches and cookies. I am on my feet all day and honestly, the last thing I want to do when I come home is work out or run. I also find it very difficult to eat properly at work. Often times, I'll bring far less food that I should and I know that my body is going into starvation mode, just fighting me at every turn. If I took the time to prepare, I may be able to make more of the 10-15 minutes of "me time" I may get at work. I've been in this "new" job now for 6 months and haven't made much progress in the "getting back on track" area.
Since getting married, I have gained 15 pounds. Yup. My clothes are to the point of being tight and unappealing, again. And honestly, I can't wear most of the items in my drawers or closet. Luckily, I wear a costume at work, so I don't need to worry about that most days. But, I barely have anything worth wearing right now. 2 pairs of jeans that fit, kind of, but need that day of stretching out to really look not SO awful. They look awful, but not SO awful. I began comforting myself with food, joking about "stress eating" at work...with two men...who are losing weight, while I'm packing it on for all of us. I pull my colonial stay (like a corset) tighter and wish that I could wear it under my normal clothes and that it would make everything okay.
There was a time when my health was a priority in my life. Now, granted, at that time, I absolutely hated my job and found the only thing that I could control was my new-found love of working out. I got a thrill out of eating well, discussing it with friends, feeling somewhat self-righteous about turning down pastries and fatty foods, and watching the weight disappear. I felt good about myself. I felt good about the hard work I was doing. And then something changed...
I got lazy. I got complacent. I figured, "huh, I've done all this work, what harm could one cookie do?". One cookie turned into two turned into a whole box. I signed up for road races without training, thinking that my past experience would carry me through, and I ended up berating myself the entire time, effectively turning myself off of running for almost the entirety of 2012. I ran one race in 2012. I reluctantly did the Gobble x3 on Thanksgiving Day, having signed up a full 4-5 weeks ahead of time, with wonderful plans of training for this race. Hurricane Sandy, a Nor'Easter and a few other unforeseeable things crashed onto my days off and there I was, lining up on Race Day feeling inadequate and quite awful about myself. That morning, I tried on my Saucony running tights. They did not fit. You know it's bad when you no longer fit into your workout clothes.
And yet, here I am, a month later, having not changed a thing, and probably worse off than I was then. I certainly didn't make any changes of habit in the last month. I just continued to "stress eat", jamming anything I could into my mouth, and watching my clothes get tighter. This fight hurts so much because I had done so much to succeed before, and here I am, 50 lbs heavier than my lowest weight, on Jan 1, 2011. And only 40 lbs lighter than my heaviest in Sept 2009 when I began this epic journey. I am so disappointed in myself. I am disappointed that I let this happen. I read every article that says that most people who have lost a lot of weight tend to gain it back within 5 years. I boasted that that wouldn't be me. I wouldn't let it beat me. I knew how it worked. I owned that "system". I had kicked it's ass. I had kicked almost 90 lbs of it's ass.
And yet, 2 years later...I am in that same mental place of self-deprecation and disgust. Why did I allow this to happen? How do I get back on track and leave the negative thoughts behind? Am I ready to do this again? I know what I need to do. I need to find the strength to do it. Sometimes I don't feel like I have that strength anymore. But I know that I need to do something because I feel awful. Mentally, physically, emotionally.
This blog used to be a place for me to express anything and everything regarding this journey. I neglected it. I neglected myself. And through all of it, I didn't neglect the ONE thing that I should have....food. Food is not my friend. Food is not a comfort. Food is fuel. Period. I need to get back to that place where I felt good when I was eating veggies and fruit and could feel full on one plateful. I don't want to be one of those New Year's Resolution people who fail by January 15. I can't help that the calendar says December 26th. I just need a fresh start. I need to regain my life and remember why I did this in the first place...
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