Eating has always been something I enjoyed. When I was in middle and high school I could eat anything and everything and still be stick thin. Every adult said "Enjoy it now, metabolism will catch up with you" What does that even mean? I'm a teenager, I'm invisible.
I'm not the girl who would order the salad to impress the boy. I would down 7 crunchy tacos in one sitting and consider dessert afterwards. I threw myself a little party complete with a bowl of ice cream when I finally hit 100 lbs. I never thought that day would happen.
Then I my senior year of high school, I moved out with my boyfriend (now husband) and ate even worse than before. Take out, boxed food, frozen food. It was all my friend. The pounds started creeping on but it didn't bother me, I'd still rock a bikini.
I got married and was happy with my body, I was slipping away from my 100lb celebration party but I was still happy. Within 4 months of getting married I was pregnant.
"I'm eating for two" I would tell myself. "The baby needs more food" I would rationalize. I'm supposed to get big, I'm pregnant. Nobody told me I should exercise. I continued to eat and gained almost 50 lbs. "It's just the baby, I didn't do anything wrong"
I had to have my wedding ring cut off 6 weeks after having A. I was traumatized. Aren't you supposed to lose weight after having a baby? Why was I still 40lbs heavier than I remember being? I joined some ladies at work for a Biggest Loser style challenge. I committed to eating better and exercising every chance I could. I was teased for losing the most weight in the challenge. I must have cheated. Nobody congratulated me, everyone just pushed their failure to lose the pounds onto me - like I did something to make them not lose more weight.
I knew the next time I got pregnant I would take better care of myself. And I did. I only gained 30lbs with J and promptly lost 20lbs within months of giving birth. I still wasn't happy with the way I looked - what happened to that stick thin girl that could eat everything. No bikinis for this mama - ever.
I started running. I thought "this is cheap, this is easy - I can lose weight doing this". Well I was right about 2 things. Running is cheap and it is easy but I wasn't losing any weight. I thought if I pushed myself harder I would lose more weight. I signed up for races. I participated in challenges online and on social media to try and hold myself accountable for what I was eating and how much I was moving. I tried tracking my food intake and calories burned through exercise. If anything, I gained more weight.
This is where your emotions start to mess with you. This is where the anxiety that you thought you dealt with years ago and was gone starts to resurface. This is where you decide to give up.
Once again this week I'm jumping back on the fitness bus. I planned healthy meals, I ran on Sunday to start off the week well. I need a change. I need a way to stay motivated. I can read all the fitness blogs I want, follow only fitness IG accounts for workout tips and pin all the inspirational quotes that I want to. But in the end it does nothing for me.
Suddenly I'll get inspired. I measure my cereal the next morning, pack a healthy lunch and eat well for dinner. By the time 24 hours has passed, I've long forgotten about my healthy plans. Heck I didn't even work out the day before.
Maybe my problem is I have nobody to hold me accountable. I'm apparently not good enough to do it myself. I've tried relying on my blog as a place for accountability but let's be honest ... if I cheat a day or 12 all I have to do is not post about it and it's like it never happened.
I'm not looking for a long list of ways to keep on top of this. I've sort of just decided that I need to woman-up and do it myself.
Here's to hoping that the bus doesn't crash before Saturday this time around.