I stepped on the scale January 1st, for a baseline … and it read 239.something. I heaved a giant sigh from my giant bosom and set about changing things. That was a lot of weight gained over the holidays, during which I cheerfully indulged in every-little-thing and never stepped on the scale. Today I stepped on it again as I forgot (conveniently) to do it again after I started implementing changes. 227.2. I highly doubt that my little changes have resulted in these stellar results in such little time, so I suspect my initial reading was off (this is much closer to the 226 I registered in early November, before scale avoidance was enacted), but I will take the current numbers gleefully.
I have a lot of work to do. It exhausts me to think about it, honestly. Too much time, however, has been spent dwelling in the mud of “how did I let myself get here?!?!” and not enough time in the “how do I get THERE from HERE?!” arena. My knee surgeon wants me water walking in the pool 4 days a week, at least. 1 hour of strictly water walking. I am taking a water aerobics class (usually) 2x a week so he said I can sub that in for 2 of the water walking sessions … but 4 days doing resistance training of some sort in the water. The biggest hurdle? My boredom.
As I told him, and have written here numerous times, in the past my answer to weight gain has always been hit it hard and fast and frequent at the gym and clean up the crap from my diet. I can go like that for months. Usually until some injury puts me down and I allow my evil, depressed twin to start reaching for the cookie jar and potato chip bag. This is not acceptable now because hard and fast is impossible. Frequent is more doable, but the weight will come off s-l-o-w-l-y … because … my body like hard and fast. AND the 2 things feed off one another. Results on the scale fuel trips to the gym which fuels good, clean eating vibes which generates results on the scale and around the healthy cycle we go. But slower results have historically frustrated me and led to a quicker spiral downward and a broken cycle.
After writing that, I pulled back and thought for a minute and yes, I feel exhausted. The mountain seems to steep for me to climb. I want to just wallow in donuts at the bottom of the path. It’s easier. I’m 50 for Jupiter’s sake … what does it even matter anymore?
It matters because I like to travel and plane seats are ever smaller and more uncomfortable. It matters because hiking around Ireland has always been on my bucket list. It matters because snow shoeing in Northern Norway is on my bucket list. It matters because I LOVE kayaking and I want to be able to get in and out of my yak without help so I can go whenever I want, even if no one else is interested in accompanying me. It matters because I HATE sitting in front of the television. It matters because no matter how much I love to read, I want more adventure than I will find in the pages of a book. It matters because I want to enjoy the next 50 years of my life as pain free as humanly possible. It matters because I want to live another 50 years.
I’m finally financially stable enough to be able to do some of the things on my bucket list, but I am not physically capable of doing them due to the condition I have allowed my body to get into. It’s time to right that wrong and then get out there and enjoy all the things I have been waiting to do my whole life. It’s time to live and in order to do so, I need to get healthy.
So now I am going to go walk the dogs, then run errands, then look into purchasing an indoor cycle so if I am watching TV at least I can burn some calories while I do it. Tonight I will play games with friends and only eat the healthy snacks … and tomorrow I will be back at the gym … hitting it slow and easy and consistent.
According to my surgeon, that is how I win this race permanently.