I recently let myself really go. I gained back 8 lbs. I was the heaviest I had been in 3 years so I turned my shit around and got my butt back in gear. I noticed right away a pattern that I have gone through each time I really recommit to this fitness thing.
The first step is always anger. I am angry that I have to give up foods I have been scarfing down for weeks. I am angry that food even has calories, angry I have to work at this, angry I wasn't born naturally thin, angry I even have to care at all what I look like. The anger comes and goes for a while. This anger is accompanied by stress. It is difficult to determine if the stress is a symptom or simply something I already experience, and am now suddenly more aware of since I can't eat it away. My theory is that it is a combination of both. Tracking and counting and obsessing over my diet and fitness level is stressful! I am also a stress eater, so the stress in my life becomes so apparent when I stop self medicating with food.
The next step is rationalization. I begin to rationalize the idea of giving up. I come up with a million reasons why this whole thing is silly, and how it really isn't worth my sanity. If I died tomorrow would I think, " Wow I am so glad I spent all that time stressing and obsessing over my weight so I didn't die fat! Or would I think, "Damn it I should have eaten those cupcakes! I will never get to taste a cupcake ever again."
Then I examine. I start to determine the cause of all of my issues with food, and societies issues with food and weight. I theorize and conceptualize. I have deep lengthy conversations about how screwed up society has made us all with my husband, my friends, anyone who will listen really.
This is followed by a long period of complacency where I simply follow my plan with robotic surrender. I refuse foods, and activities that involve the possibility of over indulging.
It is hard to determine where I find the most happiness really. I enjoy being fit. I feel good when I work out regularly. I feel good when I eat good food. But I also love delicious food that is bad for me. I like being able to just relax and have a beer or a slice of pizza. I don't enjoy watching my ass grow or my legs turn into cellulite sticks. I don't enjoy seeing my pants get tighter. Initially losing weight and reaching my goals made me very happy, but these days it feels like a chore. I dread it. I am getting to a point where I literally hate every second of it.
And you know what I hate most? When people say "It's not a diet. It's a life style change." As I said to a friend the other day, it is a diet! It is a type of diet. Your diet consists of the food you eat. You could have a diet of wine and krispie kreme donuts. Or you could have a healthy diet. Either way this is a diet. I personally would prefer the donut diet.
I was hoping that I could change my mind. Change my views. Alter the way my brain felt about food. I worked hard for 3 years trying to change my thinking, and I have succeeded in that a bit. I am more educated about my health. I know exactly what I need to do, and what is good and what is bad. But even after 3 years I have not succeeded in changing my mind about pizza, or cake, or burgers, or fries. So this is it. This is the struggle. Forever. Every day, day in and day out. My whole life is simply going to consist of fighting the urge to eat what I want.
I also have not succeeded in convincing myself that I am doing this for my health. Sorry. I just don't care. I am doing this for one reason- to be skinny. I am doing all of this to be attractive. End of story.
I would love to leave you with some inspiring words, but I don't have any today. If you can relate to this post, then I feel I have at least succeeded in being real.
