I’ve been really hard on myself lately. You know those days when you hate your hair, are disgusted with your body, and can’t stand to look at your imperfect skin in the mirror? It’s been like that, but everyday, for about a month now.
Generally, I’m a super confident person. I’ve always been comfortable in my own skin, and have learned to love myself and my body over the years. Until recently, that is, because I gained a very stubborn 10 pounds that I can’t seem to shed. My weight fluctuates a lot— between 3-5 pounds on any given day— depending on what I eat and drink. Because of that, I’m never too hard on myself if the number on the scale is less than ideal. That being said, these extra 10 pounds hit me like a ton of bricks. My clothes don’t fit, and I feel like shit. I’ve only weighed this much once before, my senior year of college (7 years ago), when I was drinking oodles of sugary alcohol and eating like a drunk 22 year old. So, how did I get here again?
Earlier this year, after a month long bout with bronchitis, I was diagnosed with asthma. While it shouldn’t have affected my day-to-day life, it did. Being the hypochondriac that I am, I was scared to put myself in any situation that might trigger my asthma (i.e. working out). Looking back it was so silly because I have a rescue inhaler to use as needed, but at the time my anxieties were very real. I didn’t work out for a solid two months, unless you count walking to and from my car to go get Taco Bell. I didn’t feel good, I was constantly tired and bloated, but I was too scared to start running (or even walking) again.
After a couple of months, I was able to incorporate light workouts back into my routine. Mostly strengthening classes, that didn’t require much effort from my lungs. When I realized that I could do said classes without my lungs collapsing (an actual fear I had), I started incorporating cardio back in (slowly).
So, now, here we are. Nearly 10 months later.
I’m still up 10 pounds, working out 3-4 days a week, and eating mostly (sometimes) healthy and clean. Why the f*ck haven’t I started losing weight? Well, for starters, I’m almost 30. My metabolism has slowed down, and I can’t expect the weight to melt off with the minimal effort I’ve been putting in. Second, I’ve lacked motivation and self control to really push myself out of my comfort zone. I know that to really lose the weight I need to eat less and workout more, but I haven’t felt motivated to take that leap. I get discouraged when I see the number on the scale, despite my weak efforts, and it makes me question why I even try. It’s a viscous cycle, really. I get frustrated with my weight, think “why even bother”, and go get Taco Bell. It’s not healthy, and it’s obviously something that needs to stop if I want something to change.
When you’re constantly having photos taken of yourself, it’s so easy to pick apart your imperfections. And to be honest, it’s something I’ve been doing a lot as of late. I’ll get my photos back from my (amazing) photographer and instantly wish I had one less chin and a few inches off my hips and waist. How can you be expected to post cute photos when you don’t feel cute? I want to lose the weight for me, so that I can feel comfortable in my own skin again.
So, here’s the deal: starting today (October 15), I’m going to be better. I’m setting a goal for myself to work out a minimum of 5 days a week. I’m not going to deprive myself, but I’m going to be realistic with the foods that I need to cut out. I’m sure a lot of you don’t care, but if you’ve made it this far, I’m writing this to hold myself accountable. Something needs to change, and it needs to change now. This is my official promise to myself to do better. Anyone want to join me?