When I moved to Southern California I lost nearly 60 pounds. Let that sink in… 60. That’s more than my five year old weighs… and I lost it. I was heavy. I am perfectly aware of the right way to lose weight. I did it the right way. Somehow, somewhere along the line, I lost focus and I have put nearly half of it back on. Terribly frustrated, it’s very easy to fall into a self-deprecating inner dialogue but, I try very hard to avoid that. I love me and anyone who knows me probably knows that my self-esteem is not the issue. But, that’s not to say that I don’t see who I am. I see my large cellulite riddled thighs and I don’t like them. I see my bingo wings and know that there isn’t a tattoo in the world that would make me love those arms. I also see ME. My value is not based on my weight or my ugly legs and I KNOW this. I have a husband who never tires of expressing his attraction toward me. So, my positive self-worth coupled with my husband being down AF, is somewhat of a hindrance in the motivation department! What does that mean? It means that I have to find the motivation from a positive place within myself and that, my friends, is easier said than done. Today that motivation came from me in part, but my oldest son really helped me seal the deal. “I’ll get up and go with you, mommy. It will make you feel good. Let’s do it, ok?” this… this is what that child said to me in all of his ten year old wisdom. I’m so lucky to have him.
I know what to do about food too… I mean, eating clean and watching myself calorically is key. Making myself do it, is the hard part. Getting beyond my bullshit mental block and creating an inner narrative that eats healthy and MOVES HER BODY. The struggle is real, bitches! You know. So many of you are reading this and nodding in agreement. You know that you’ve started over a thousand times… Well, cheers to a thousand and one, bitch!
I’ve found a run app that we used and I feel pretty good about it. Running resulted in the loss of the majority of my weight initially. I injured my ankle and stopped. I think my ankle is back and I am going to wrap it for additional support just in case. Most importantly, I am going to try again. I’m not going to continue to sit on my ass while it spreads. This is what eventually will become success. Trying again. I went full throttle into hot yoga last fall, due to an unexpected move, the cost and my ability to get there became an issue… So, I stopped. I can’t view that as failure, though. Failure would be to never try again. So… here I go. Trying the next thing. Hoping it will stick. Wish me luck! Swearing Mom out.