Thursday, October 21, 2010
Yesterday, baby Joshua was cranky. And unfortunately, it seems like I'm the only person he likes, so I'm the one who gets to console him, and keep him happy. But this takes a huge toll on my psyche, and by the end of the day, I just want out. My lovely husband (lovely when he does something helpful) offered to let me go to the gym, regardless of Josh's demeanor.
I was not feeling the gym when I arrived. There was guilt, anxiety, exhaustion, all built up inside of me. But whatever, I was there. The first mile on the elliptical I just suffered. But my weigh in was today, so I told myself, just half an hour. You're already half way there, just keep going. Doesn't matter that the baby is upset, he's with his dad and well taken care of. You are here, you are going to stay here, you are going to keep going. And six miles later, (or about an hour), I didn't want to leave.
I hopped on the bike after 30 minutes on the elliptical to finish reading my magazine I got two weeks ago. The magazine only took ten minutes to read, but I wanted to keep going. I sat, pedaled, and listened to some relaxing music while I contemplated what I wanted from this diet, excuse me, lifestyle change, and exercise.
I think I like the gym and eating healthy more now this time in my life than previously, because it is something I do for me. I feel better when I eat good stuff instead of cheese puffs, and exercise has turned into a huge stress relief for me. And honestly, the weight loss is just an added benefit.
Going to support groups and having a weekly weigh in has shifted my thinking. It used to be, these 50 pounds need to be gone. Then I would read or hear about women who are happy at whatever weight they are at. How can they be happy at 190 pounds, and I can't? Why was I so fixated on the number? It really is just a number.
Now I still rejoice at the success on the scale, but I am beginning to see the other changes. How I can walk for an hour and still want to go further. How my pre-pregnancy jeans are too big for me. And instead of focusing on that goal number, there's the dress that I want to zip. The pants I want to dust off. Or the run I want to do in the spring.
In high school English class, the motto was it is the journey, and not the end result. I honestly don't know if I can hit the magic number of 135, or what number I will set myself at. But so far I am really beginning to enjoy the journey.