Cue weight gain.
[Cruise in '08, Thanksgiving '09, Wedding in '10, Trip West in '12, Half Marathon in '14] |
This fall, it will be ten years since I went away to college. (Can I just take a moment and say how in the world has it been TEN YEARS?!) In the past decade, my weight has constantly fluctuated up and down. I go in cycles where I don't exercise at all and overeat, then join Weight Watchers and lose some of the weight, then start training for and run a half marathon and find myself in the best physical condition since I was high school, then gain all the weight back.
It's a constant battle for me.
But through it all, I maintained my stance that I couldn't just focus on a number on a scale and instead tried to focus on how my clothes fit, what I look like in the mirror, and how I felt.
Well, last summer, I started realizing I felt pretty damn bad. I was stressed and overwhelmed - we had picked up our life in Indiana and moved back to PA, and I was struggling with a deeply personal issue (more on that at a later date). I started to pack on some extra weight. Before I knew it, I was up almost 40 lbs, and was absolutely shocked when I finally stepped on the scale and saw that number.
I never in my life thought I would reach that weight. Not a great feeling.
I started to realize I didn't recognize the person I had become. Over the years I've perfected the way I position my body while looking at myself in the mirror or when posing for photos, but every once in a while I would catch a glimpse of myself in a candid photo, a dressing room mirror, or worse yet, a video taken by a friend or family member, and couldn't believe how far I had let myself go.
It was finally time to do something.
Two weeks ago, I decided I wanted to start running again. I've always liked running, and I'm fairly decent at it. I can go months without running at all, and then pick back up and go a few miles, no matter where I'm at physically. It's become my favorite form of exercise over the years, especially once I started training for a half marathon and running longer distances. I set a goal to run every day for ten days. My only rules were that I couldn't walk and that I had to do a minimum of two miles. It was tough at first, and I was painfully slow. But after a few days, I started to feel like my old self. The runs got easier, and my times improved. I went ten days and decided I would aim for two straight weeks of my daily runs. However, shin splints got the best of me. The night of my twelfth run, I lay in bed crying while Matt rubbed ice on my shins. It wasn't pretty. So I decided I needed a rest, so that's what I've been doing for the last three days. However, I'm proud of myself for making it twelve days, and know it's a step in the right direction. I needed something to get myself outside, shake off the winter blues, and start focusing on myself again.
[My twelve days of running.]
[Hahah... I need this shirt, stat.]
This is by no means going to become a blog about weight loss. I may write about my journey from time to time as a means of holding myself accountable and documenting my progress, but I'm so far from an expert that it's laughable. I just hope I can keep heading in the right direction, and by putting myself out there maybe open up the dialog and start a conversation about something that I (and so many other people) have struggled with for years.
I think I'm finally ready for a change.
If you read this entire post, bless you. But even if you didn't, it feels good to finally get it out.
Love,
Steph