What is bringing me to write this today after almost 2 years of inactivity is beyond me. The chances that you have read any of my previous posts is very slim. And that's OK. It gives me a clean slate.
I have been healthily obsessed with the fitness/healthy living community for quite a few years now. I started this blog as a way to keep myself accountable when I decided to work towards losing that freshman 50 I had put on over the course of 3 years. But, it didn't work.
I am all or nothing. Always have been. And always will be (trying to change that). I would find myself in a position where I didn't work out, or I didn't eat healthful foods, so I would be embarrassed to share. Which meant I didn't post anything. So, after a couple of days or a week without a post, I threw in the towel. Every. Single. Time.
I'm that way with most things. My mother always joked that I didn't do anything I wasn't good at. If I tried something and I didn't do it well instantly, or at the very least had a natural affinity for it with the likelihood of me becoming great at it, I didn't want to do it. What that means is I never wanted to give myself an opportunity to fail. I never wanted to take a chance on myself.
That's why whenever I tried to lose weight I did it in the comfort and anonymity of the internet. Never sharing my endeavor with the people closest to me. That way, if I failed, I only had to answer to a handful of internet strangers (literally like 2) who (as sensitive as I really am) are inconsequential to my life.
Recently, that all changed. In the time since the last time I wrote I go engaged, got married, moved into our first marital apartment, adopted two cats, and gained about another 40 pounds.
This past May my wife and I went to Las Vegas with our best friends. And we ate. We ate a lot. We were in Vegas after all, the epicenter of gluttony. Besides that what we do on vacation. We seriously love food, ALL food. We love the luxurious, fattening, rich, and indulgent, we love the junk food, and (select) fast food, and we love the bright, vibrant, fresh, and healthful foods. We love it all. And we ate it all, with wild abandon. We also spent a lot of time by the pool, in swimsuits. And although I never felt overly self-conscious, or fat, or embarrassed. I do remember thinking the entire weekend, 'I can't do this forever, this isn't good for me, I need to make a change... when I get home, it's time for a change." And when I got home, I went to work. And 5 months later (which in Hannah time is an eternity), I'm still at work.
I still don't know what it was that changed it for me. I still don't know what it was that I was feeling that made me decide, even deep in the belly of the beast of indulgence, that I needed to work on me. Maybe it was guilt. Guilt for knowing that I was not treating myself well, guilt for making light of the weight I had gained, guilt for envying my thinner more beautiful friends, and strangers, guilt for wanting to start a family but being afraid to discuss it with my doctor knowing that they will tell me to lose weight, guilt for being a supporter of plus size women, and again fat-shaming yet secretly fat-shaming, and hating myself.
But here I am. 5 months in. Still going. But for me, it isn't just the length of time that's impressive, even though it definitely is. More importantly it is about how hard it has been. I have only lost a little over 20 pounds in just about 5 months (and according to my BMI I need to lose about 150lbs (#SMH)-so the weight is there to lose). The first 15 melted off of me the first 3 weeks. Being diligent and mindful about my diet and exercise made it easy. But I didn't feel any different, I didn't feel thinner, and I definitely didn't look thinner. If I had started at 140lbs 15 pounds would've looked like 30 on my 5'2" frame. But at over 200lbs, it was a drop in the bucket. And the logical part of my brain knew this, but the emotional part was instantly discouraged. I struggled to stay on track for about a month, and lost no weight. Then, I rediscovered the 24 day challenge (something I had toyed with trying almost 2 years before but never did), and after it was over I had broken through my plateau lost 17 inches overall, and 10-13lbs (there is a range here because my scale is screwy and fluctuated those same 3lbs minute to minute). At this point in time it's summer and we have a lot going on. Within my normal routine I am doing great, my meals are great, I'm not working out as much as I would like, but at least my meals are right where they should be. But with all the events we're attending, I'm bingeing a bit more. Eating more than I should, and less healthful. But, somehow, my 80/20 lifestyle is maintaining my weight. And after 2 months of working out maybe once a week, and eating well 80% of the time I have not had any significant loses, and no significant gains. Which as discouraging, and frustrating that it was that I couldn't stay on track ALL THE TIME, the fact that I hadn't GAINED any weight (when I wasn't actively, whole heartedly and 100% trying to lose weight) was a miracle, and a first in my adult life.
All this to say that it gave me hope. And it reminded me that I don't have to be all or nothing. And success is dependent upon how you measure it. Not failing at this weight loss endeavor is dependent upon what I decide success is. If it's losing 100lbs, or 5lbs, or not gaining any pounds. I get to define my success in this.
I'm doing this for me. I am losing weight and getting healthier for me and only me. So only I get to define if I'm doing well or not. So I am going to keep going. I am going to keep believing in myself. I am going to keep meal prepping, and working out, and losing, and not gaining.
This time, I'm not going to stop.
