I'm pretty sure that there are not going to be any gumdrop farts in this post. I'm also pretty sure I'm not writing it from Care Bear Land. And no - that doesn't mean I'm writing it from Sucksville instead. I guess it means I'm writing it from somewhere in between.
I've been here before. BUT the thing is - I haven't been here lately. Not in a loooong time.
It's where I literally, physically, mentally and emotionally make the hard choices - over and over. And it hurts. And it feels good - all at once.
Let me explain.
Most of you know that I'm doing Weight Watchers. This Tuesday completes my third week. I have been loving it. However, I feel like the first two weeks of any new diet are always gung ho and almost easy. I'm down 4 pounds and it hasn't felt hard or restricting or awful or like I want to binge on Skittles.
Until week 3.
It's NOT hard to stay within my points. It's not hard to see that I'm eating more fruits and veggies than I have in a long time. It's not hard to feel amazing after getting back into a consistent workout pattern. It's not hard to see the scale keep going down. The basis of this plan is sound. And good. And simple.
I'm back to living the "healthy" life that I lived not too long ago - before I gained 30 lbs back. Remembering the inner strength and motivation it took - has shocked me. I find myself impressed with the fact that I did this successfully before..because now I remember that it's f*cking hard.
Excuses aren't welcome here in this kind of life. They are just bullshit. Nobody gives a damn if you're exhausted beyond belief and have nothing left to give for the day even if it's midnight and you're PMSing.
Some facts remain (for me anyway):
I have to pre-plan. Left alone to my own devices for breakfast, lunch and supper - EVERY SINGLE TIME I will make the wrong choice. I have to pre-cook massive amounts of chicken and broccoli and cut fruit and veggies and pack lunch bags for EVERY day. I hate doing it but I hate doing a lot of things - like shaving my hooha - but dammit....I do it.
I have to work out. My body does NOT lose weight by diet alone. It never has. It never will. There IS time for this each day. When I say there isn't - I'm alying.
I have to track my food. Ridiculously. Like when I decide to eat 6 M&Ms and my idiot brain says, "You don't have to count that - for F sake - it was only 6 M&Ms!" because the smart person in me knows damn well that if I do that every day by the end of the week I've eaten a shitload of M&Ms. I have to do it my own way in a pretty book with custom made stickers and pretty pens and colors and mantras and goal lists!
It all sucks. It's not fun.
For the past year or so I have literally not given a damn about what I eat, how much or when. The exhileration that comes with that kind of eating freedom and not giving a damn about what I weigh is indescribable. Seriously. I have to control everything every damn day and not giving a crap about food is like my very own party every day with no consequences (just because I refuse to see them).
I gave myself permission to let go. To stop planning. Stop caring. Stop buying anything healthy. Stop caring. Stop working out. Stop caring. Stop saying no to the 4th donut. Stop caring.
I gave myself permission to say that Rambo loves me fat or thin - so nothing else matters. I gave myself permission to believe that....refusing to know that was a lie. I gave myself permission to buy bigger clothes and put away my small ones.
I laid myself off from healthy. Unemployment for me was eating shit and not working out. Always and never.
The thing is - for me - I have to realize being laid off is not an option for me. There will always be employment for me in health. I can't quit. I can't survive without the benefits. I need to punch in to my health and well-being every day with the same responsibility I do with my career every day. I need to want to be and do more and advance in my health - just like I do in every other area of my life.
For me - it will always be a job. It won't be fun. So what? Who said everything I have to do is required to be fun?
This weekend was a white knuckle weekend. I found myself bored and emotional and I literally said to myself, "You know damn well you aren't hungry but you're going to eat this chocolate because your mind is screaming that it will make you feel better - and you know it won't."...and I ate it anyway.
Tracked it. But the point is - I ate it.
The inner fight and struggle I had with myself was epic. I would say, "Sit down. Drink more water. You are NOT hungry. This will pass. Make a f*cking choice. Grow up. Your health is on the line. You have the power."
Today that has been working. I saw a new low on the scale...(even with the binge)...and sabotaging that is absurd. Downright absurd. It'd be like calling my boss to tell him I'm quitting because I'm not happy with the color of the walls in my office.
Absurd. People would call that crazy. Stupid. Dumb. Ridiculous.
Kinda like eating M&Ms to make me feel better about being bored or scared or hurt.
So yah - this is me. Thinking like the above. Actually having conversations with myself again about my choices. For months I haven't questioned myself about a damn thing. If I picked up my 6th piece of pizza - there was no loud booming voice in my head saying, "WHOA - what the hell? You are full. You have high blood pressure. What are you doing?"
Nope. I silenced that inner demon for a good long while and just lived and loved. And I admit it was bliss.
Unproductive, damaging, unhealthy bliss but bliss nonetheless.
Bliss never lasts. It usually comes to an end and it has for me. I can hear the good inner demon questioning my bad choices. I feel myself receptive to hear him. And listen. I have turned down SHITLOADS of bad food and restaurant choices and junk. I have made myself start running again even when I haven't wanted to. I haven't missed a single day of tracking.
I became my body's best employee again. I gave myself an unsolicited raise.
My God - the work is hard but it sure is rewarding. It sure is worth it. It sure is do-able.
It's a whole different and new kind of bliss. I've been there before. I once owned it, made it mine and excelled in it. Until I quit. I all but resigned from health.
I've been re-hired.
Even if this shitty economy.
Miracles do happen, huh?