Hey, guys…guess who woke up this morning a wee bit aggravated with herself? This girl.
I have these days, you know…I’m not always so motivated and giddy and…you get the picture. Today is just one of those days. I woke up, almost in the same position in which I fell asleep, and instantly felt all cramped up. All of this running and strength training is seriously leaving me sleeping like a rock, but I’m waking up sore and uncomfortable. Today was no exception, so I woke up a little cranky, and…
Then I stepped on the scale.
Seriously?Seriously?Yeah, seriously. I was down two pounds already this week and now I’m back up. I know what all of you are thinking, trust me. I’m sure there was some rolling of the eyes in there, too. Maybe even some forehead slapping. I can’t help it sometimes…I’m not exactly the most patient person in the world, that’s for sure.
I know what I wrote when I wrote the recap of my Longest Day 10-miler. I said “Fuck the weight!” I know I did…but I’ve been battling this for about 23 years now. It’s hard for me to quit. The old me still lingers. I’m finally seeing myself succeed in something physical, which was unheard of three years ago, and yet…I’m still battling weight. Someone slap me, because the more I read what I’m writing, the more ridiculous I sound, I know.
A few months ago, I discovered that I’ve been completely out of my mind…I’ve been caving to the “standard” that people think we should meet. I’d plan my goals around some number that I simply just pulled out of my ass because it sounded “about right”. I thought that with my height, I needed to be, oh, right about here. 140. Just pick a number and go for it. Bullshit. I’ve done this all my life.
I’m shooting for 130, because I really want a six-pack. I want to be a size 4, and I want to see my collarbone.
I’m shooting for 170, because I don’t want to be all toned and cut and jacked. I want to be soft – I’m a woman.
Do you see the problem there? I was trying to convince myself of two totally different things, depending on how (un)inspired or how (un)motivated I was. I would go for the “softer” goal when I was feeling like I was always meant to be “bigger”…and I’d go with the lower number, because I was feeling too fat or too…dare I say it, disordered.
The problem with both of those “goals” is that I have never seen those numbers before. I have no clue what my body looks like at those weights, because it’s been years since I’ve been there. So long ago that I don’t even think I was stepping on a scale yet. It had to have at least been the beginning of high school, maybe younger. I literally just pulled those numbers out of thin air and slapped them on paper and called them goals. Smart, isn’t it? Anyways, back to a few months ago. I learned a little something in my exercise science class. Actually, I learned something so big that it changed the way I saw my weight loss goals entirely. I was taught how to use my body weight and body fat percentage to determine how much of me is actually fat and how much is actually lean mass. (Those numbers surprised the crap out of me.) Then, I learned how to take those numbers and figure out what body fat percentage I’d like to be at and how much I need to lose to get there. (Of course, those numbers will change slightly depending on how much muscle I build or don’t build.)
Those few little equations and measurements changed my life. I went from thinking that I needed to lose between 60-100 pounds to be happy with my body…to knowing that based on my body fat percentage, I only need to lose 34 pounds to be considered “lean”. Yep. 34 pounds.
Do you see how disordered those “standard” numbers have us thinking???
That’s a whole other post, people. I can get pretty crazy up in here talking about what people see as “standard”. Actually, I have before. Anyways, I have this secret little goal of mine…that I probably shouldn’t keep so secret anymore, because I’m all about getting/giving support. I’ll be 30 in 63 days. I’m trying to lose ten pounds a month until then. (That’s roughly two pounds a week.) 20 pounds in 63 days. (I also have a BF% goal…because you never know with weight.) (I have a post for this goal…stay tuned.) The only way I’m going to be able to do this, though, is if I give up the scale. The scale makes me crazy…and I have no idea why I got back to that daily weigh-in
thing bullshit. (Hey, ’cause that’s what it is.)
I’m busting serious ass with this half marathon training. I’ve accomplished so much more than I thought I could. I’m taking care of myself. I’m setting weekly goals. (If you haven’t checked out The Weekly Chase yet, you need to. Link up next week…it’s been AWESOME!) I’m so proud of myself and how far I’ve come, but, I am really trying to get my weight down when it comes to my waistline. I don’t want to battle it anymore. I want to ring in 30 with a whole new, healthy body & mind. We want to get pregnant this Christmas/New Year (stayin’ busy in those cold, cooped-up months lol)…we’d like to try for one more baby before we call it “quits” (watch, now we’ll get a big surprise a couple years down the road just because I said something). I want to be healthy…I want to continue to run while I’m pregnant. I don’t want to make excuses to eat like crap when I’m pregnant…because I’ll tell ya…after this second baby…the weight has been twice as hard to drop. They don’t lie about that, and it has a lot to do with the fact that I was not healthy before hand. I just don’t want to battle this anymore.
I feel like I’m all over the place with this post, but that’s what my head’s doing right now. Up and down and all around.Scatterbrained. I had to write it out. I had to get these frustrating thoughts out and “on paper”, because a lot of you know how hard this has been for me…and those of you that are new to me should know how hard I really do work. This entire healthy journey of mine has required somemajor discipline. Change doesn’t come easy. It takes a lot of will and determination…but we’re all human. We all have these moments of weakness, and I, my friends, am far from perfect.
But I’m still fighting.