Weight - Day 9 Update

Nine days ago I posted my initial nine pound weight loss challenge, and I'm betting if I logged on and looked at my blog stats that there probably hasn't even been nine people who have even viewed that post yet.  I'm fairly certain I am still on this journey relatively alone.

I thought I would give my first update.

Waaaahlaaa - I've lost nine pounds.  Ok, that's a lie.  A really big FAT lie.

Truth-be-told ~- I haven't even convinced myself to even get on the scale yet!   I'm one of those people that I have to already know I've lost at least a little weight before I will even find the incentive needed to initially get on the scale to really see how bad I've allowed myself to again get.  I fear I may even still be gaining.

The basic reality - I have no pants that fit right now.  It's that change-in-season wardrobe time.  I had 6 pair of shorts that I wore all summer.  4 denim/dress and 2 athletic.  I dressed them up or dressed them down and that is all I wore thee entire summer.

I had an outdoor event two weeks ago and needed to wear jeans.  I had none that fit.  I was not surprised.  So, I've been continuing to wear the shorts, only now with sweaters.  Someone at work recently asked if I was cold.  Yes, of course I am - but I have no pants that fit because I gained a bunch of weight summer.  And I have these crazy sore bunion feet and can only wear flip flops.

I live in Iowa people - this dilemma will in fact need to be dealt with though sooner than later.  And the sooner has in fact already arrived, and the extremeness of the situation is fully upon me.  I may be in denial, but the reality is upon me.  Hence, I issued myself the nine pound challenge nine days ago.

I wish I could report that I'm well on my way to my new me.  I wish I could tell you I have given up all caffeine, chocolate, and added an hour of intense exercise every day.  But, I'm not and I haven't.

Wednesday morning God woke me up at 3:45am and after wrestling sleep for an hour, I finally gave in to the reality that I knew He had me awake for a reason, and I actually got out of bed and went for the first morning walk in probably ten months.  The same thing happened Thursday morning.  Friday I push mowed the lawn and Saturday morning I even got myself on the treadmill before 7:00am.  I didn't run, I didn't even go very long.  22 minutes / 1.5 miles.  That was my goal, and that was all I did.  It's hard to view that as a #win for the day and not compare it to what used to be my normal pace, time, and distance in the past when I was 10k training...

But, that was 22 minutes longer and 1.5 miles further than I'd gone the week prior... than the entire summer prior.  My feet have been screaming at me, my back continues to hurt, and now I've added an incredible ache in my right knee.  I know much of it stems from the additional pounds I'm dragging along to each workout.  I'll continue to try keep setting small goals and pushing through the pain, but I am a little fearful of creating more damage which may stop being able to achieve even the smallest of goals.  Utter frustration.

I bought yogurt, fruit, and granola.  I haven't eaten it all yet, but I have added a few healthier moments in each day.  I've not taken a sleeping pill for the past four nights, and I have not had a cup of coffee after noon all week.  Unfortunately, there are still many many unhealthy decisions still surrounding each healthy one.

Saturday we went to a large gathering of friends at a tailgate party.  I arrived incredibly self conscious and poured into a pair of jeans that did not fit, while I sat next to a buffet table the entire length of the garage, desperately wishing I had held better control of my weight this summer.

I currently sit at the eve to the start of another new week.  My alarm is set, my treadmill will be waiting.  Will I get up and conquer?  Will I hit snooze and begin the week with failure?  Will this be the week I convince myself to weigh in and swallow the hard truth of reality?  Will I give in and order a larger pair of jeans (with money I don't have) or will I continue on in shorts, sweaters, and flip flops for a few weeks longer, desperately praying for no snow and a willpower that will somehow keep me moving forward without completely overtaking me...

Perhaps it's just a fancy excuse, perhaps it's being forty-one and knowing my tendencies, but I do carry a small fear any time I start the journey of weight loss, knowing I may soon be dancing with the demons of obsessive self control and unattainable perfection.  I want one without the other this time around.  I fear I will have neither.

In the next nine days I will weigh myself.  In the next nine day I will set the time frame in which I hope to lose those nine pounds by. In the next nine days I will continue to set small, tiny, baby-step goals.  In the next nine days I will pray there will be more moments of going forward and wise choices than moments of set-back and poor choices.  In the next nine days may I be encouraged by others and continue onward, and may I have eyes that help see who and where to be the encouragement others are needing from me.

And before I hit "publish" I need to stop and simply ask why is that I am even giving myself another nine days before really diving in with both feet?? I could walk into the bathroom and weigh myself in the matter of two minutes and be done with it. Why am I playing this ridiculous game with myself??

Denial and shame.   It's simply my personal denial and shame...

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