I’ve had this blog for a little over a month now. I’m starting to really feel better. I know I keep saying this but even though I haven’t lost much weight I’ve lost inches and have changed my attitude. Working out isn’t a chore, as much as I complain about it. Working out makes me feel great. It makes me worry less about how I look, believe it or not. When you’re overweight and you don’t love how you look I can guarantee it’s all you think about. You wonder if people are judging you for how fat you are or what you’re wearing. You worry about how you look sitting down. You worry about what you’re eating. You cry. Or at least that’s what it was like for me. Before I started this I would avoid mirrors, stare at thin people, stare at fat people, suck in my stomach, wear multiple layers to hide my gut, etc. But the main thing is I would think about weight all day long.
The most personal thing I’m willing to admit here is that I’ve cried a lot about weight. I’ve spent a lot of nights really upset at myself and how much I weigh. There’s no one you can blame for how you look except yourself (and genetics if I’m being really technical). Eating disorders almost sound plausible when you’re as upset about weight like I was. When I was younger I’d wish I could follow through with anorexia. I even thought I could do it for like a year and then stop doing it and be thin. I never tried it though, I knew I would be found out immediately. Food is a big deal when you’re Italian. Meals are the primary things a family does together. I would only be able to be anorexic for about 2 days before someone would have noticed I wasn’t eating. So I just kept crying. Every few months I would get worked up enough about how I looked that I would just sit in bed at night and sob.
The times when the crying stopped for long periods are the times I was going to the gym daily. I can remember this happening a total of 4 times over 10 years. With about 2 years of crying time in between my bouts of working out. Now I’m not saying I cry everyday, or even every week. I’d cry once every maybe 5 months or so. But they were really serious cries. I would lament how depressing clothes shopping is when you’re overweight. I would be mad that I love food for much. Eventually the tears would turn to laughter. I’m not good at being serious or seriously upset for very long periods. So I wasn’t a skinny minnie, so what! I had a great life, I would realize, I just have to stop quitting on what I’m trying to accomplish. Get a hobby, I would say to myself. Stop coming home from work and sitting around not doing anything and then crying about it later on.
I would always start off so motivated and then around the 2-3 month mark I would quit. I’ve gone through so many gym buddies, gyms, diets, routines. I’m like a fitness slut. I will try anything to lose weight but I’ll move on the first sign it’s working. Quitting happens because the changes start and I start thinking Oh I’m doing great, I don’t need to work out any more. Big mistake. Fitness is a lifestyle, a really annoying lifestyle you wish didn’t have to happen. If I’m serious about losing the weight I want to lose (around 50 pounds) I have to commit to working out and portion controlling myself for at least a year. And then maybe forever. It sounds awful, but it’s making a big difference in how I see myself and it’s only been 4 weeks.
I realized today that I’m not thinking about weight as much any more. Every 5th thought isn’t “I sure do look bad because I’m fat” and a mental change is exactly what I should have been working towards in the first place. As didactic as this will sound, you gotta love yourself. You gotta be happy with your efforts. You gotta stop letting yourself off the hook at the same time you stop putting blinders on to how you really feel. Admitting I was fat was key. Admitting I still liked myself was, well, more key. Being thin isn’t going to change me, it’s just going to make be a little bit less stressed when I go into a clothing store. Working at fitness every day frees up my mind from constantly dwelling on how big I think my stomach looks because I know I’m working at it.
No matter how slow you go, you are still lapping every single person who stayed on the couch.
I can tell you I haven’t cried once since I started this blog. I’m calling that progress. Not once in 2 months have I gotten so down on myself that I’ve teared up. I don’t want to quit in 2 months. I want to keep trying, and keep being fitter. happier. more productive.
I like where I see myself going. 1 pound at a time. 1 work out at a time. 1 happy thought at a time.
Thanks for reading my blog for a month, blog readers. Keep encouraging me! I definitely have felt the love.