I weighed myself last Saturday morning (DAY 6) and was thrilled to see the number on the scale had dropped 8 pounds. I know it was mostly fluid and happiness, but EIGHT POUNDS in 5 days is pretty major. I was very excited!
My family usually enjoys a big breakfast on the weekend. I made the big breakfast even though I couldn’t eat it because
I was tricked into it I’m selfless like
that. Inner child felt like we should be
able to have some bacon. What’s a piece
of bacon when you just lost 8 pounds?
Her argument was strong, but I was stronger. I was not happy about it, but I was
stronger. Suddenly, out of nowhere, I
was really angry at my family for eating breakfast. Hubby walked over to me munching on a hash
brown and I almost filed for divorce. I
was so cranky that I thought someone in my family might actually hold me down
and stuff carbs in my mouth. The poor
dears ate their breakfast and fled in fear.
We went to a bull roast Saturday night. As soon as I got there I knew I should have taken my own food. They had a bunch of stuff that I couldn’t have, which I expected, but they didn’t really have anything I COULD eat. I ended up getting a small portion of beef, 2 slices of tomato and ice water. I actually felt pretty satisfied with myself…I had resisted the temptations…for a minute.
It didn’t take long for me to crumble. Actually, someone gave me a jello shooter.
I was starving, it was sweet
and it had to be fewer calories than the cake they had just put out. It was a gift and I didn’t want to be
I’m not a big drinker, so I don’t even know what seemed so appealing about that little blue cup, but it was delicious. It was blue jello with Pinnacle whipped vodka for those that are curious. I’m not condoning drinking vodka, just sharing the truth because that’s what I aim to do here. (Did I mention it was delicious?)
I wish I could tell you that it was the only one I indulged in, but I can’t. I CAN tell you that if you go 5 days without eating and you aren’t a big drinker to begin with, it doesn’t take many of those little blue cups of joy to make you slightly fuzzy in the head. I wish I could tell you that I didn’t try the “adult gummy bears” too, but I can’t. I also wish I could tell you that I didn’t let my stinkin’ thinkin’ convince me that going to McDonald’s on the way home wasn’t really going to make a difference since I’d already blown it, but I can’t.
Isn’t that all or nothing attitude what got me here in the first place? That voice that says I may as well have what I want since I’ve already messed up beyond repair? I used to let that voice tell me that I’d have to wait until Monday to get back on track. I wonder if anyone else does that. Do we all decide that whatever change we are attempting to tackle must begin on a Monday? Do Mondays not suck enough already?
I didn’t order fries or a soda. Thinking about that cracks me up. I don’t even understand the logic behind it. I can eat jello infused with sugar liquor, gummy bears soaked in vodka and a burger that is really nothing more than pink plastic bubble goo, wrapped in a bun and slathered with ketchup, but I draw the line at French fries and a coke?
It’s that same logic I use when I allow my kids to play Call of Duty but make them mute it. I’m totally okay with them being proud of their “face shot” and other gruesome killings, provided they don’t drop the F-bomb when they do it. I DO have my standards, you know.
My biggest concern was that I’d have to write about my failure but I knew that I had to because if I’m not honest about everything, this is kind of pointless. I can brag about my every triumph and only post the positive stuff, but that would only be a sliver of the story. This is hard. I do laugh at myself every day, but every change I’m making is hard. I can condemn myself for messing up, or I can love myself enough to keep on trying.
Do I hate myself for not looking a certain way, or do I love myself enough to be healthy? I truly believe the answer to that question can impact my success. If I’m condemning myself for not being what I think I ought to be, then that ‘all or nothing’ attitude will take me down. That voice tells me I may as well eat whatever I want, since I’ve already failed. That voice that says I’ll always be on the losing end of this battle with my weight will take over and become toxic if I allow it. That voice has been in charge for 9 years. That voice is fired.
If you’ve read my other posts, you know that Meg has become one of my very favorite people and instructors. It’s like an I LOVE MEGHAN Fan Club around here! I really think it all goes back to the first time I heard her ask the question, “What are you here for?” It spoke to my core and stirred a fire in me. She asks it almost every class when we’re all tired and just want it to be over.
For me, there is a lot of power in that question. WHAT ARE YOU HERE FOR?
What am I doing all of this for?
Why am I trying to work out when I’m terribly uncoordinated and it makes me want to throw up?
Why am I taking on hellacious dieting challenges that make me want to eat my gym sock dipped in butter?
Why am I writing about embarrassing things like flatulence during core work, or selling my soul for a jello shooter?
Well, I really want to be smoking hot! DUH!
But wait…there’s more!
I want to break the chain of unhealthy habits and show my children something better. I want to be proud of myself and I want my family to be proud of me. I love that after watching me struggle with my weight for 9 years my kids are now seeing me throw excuses out the window and take control over it. I’m proud of the power in that message. We all have struggles and we have to own them to overcome.
I’m here because God gave me this body and it’s my job to honor Him with it. I’m thankful that He’s forgiving of the fact that my mouth doesn’t always honor Him, especially in CXWORX and PUMP!
Why am I writing about it? Well, at first I was just writing this blog for fun. I thought my close friends and family would get a kick out of it and it’s a great stress buster for me. I never thought it would be seen by as many people as it has and that is very humbling. I keep writing because it is keeping me accountable and I figure if one person reads this, relates to it, and walks away feeling like maybe they can try something today that they were afraid to do yesterday…well THAT is really awesome.
I was certain my hiccup would have registered on the scale the next day, but there was no movement. I weighed myself the following morning and it did go up 1.5 pounds. It could’ve been the junk, it could’ve been fluid, or it could’ve been the gigantic pimple that formed on my face. It was undoubtedly the result of the alcohol and sugar trying to exit my body. Either that or my inner child was trying to sprout her own head right out of my chin.
As of DAY 8 the scale moved back and I was still down 8 pounds.
I planned to be back on track and I was for a day or two, but then a million things came at me. The final straw was being sick. I want what I want when I am sick and the 21 day challenge did not fit into that plan.
So here I am…ready to start again…and it just so happens to be on a Monday.
I should just change my perspective on Mondays. Here’s to Mondays being good for fresh starts and getting back on track!
Here’s to staying with the fight!