Sunday, February 06, 2011
I fell off the wagon, straight into a never ending bowl of pasta and a fountain of cheesecake. I'd been doing so good that I gave myself a pat on the back and thought, "Hey, just this once won't hurt." And just that once wouldn't have, but "just this one time" turned into slipping completely back into my old habits and gaining back much of what I'd lost. Stepping on the scale to see all that back patting did not pay off was painful.
At first I couldn't figure out where I'd gone wrong. I made excuses, like I'd let myself slip over the holidays--we all use the holidays as an excuse to overindulge right? I didn't have to let it happen though. I made a conscious decision to overeat every time I did. There was that nagging voice in the back of my head warning me that I was taking things too far, that I was already full and didn't need to go on. I let the other voice win though, the one that said it was too good not to eat all of it now, the voice that said it was unfair that I couldn't eat what I wanted to, the voice that belongs to my own personal demon of self-sabotage.
After a few months off the wagon, I'm just now starting to see just what it's done. Last month, I donned my maternity jeans just to be comfortable because the new, smaller size that I'd gotten into started to feel too tight. I blamed it on bloating then, on water retention, on anything but the truth--that slippery slope of binge eating that I thought I'd made it away from.
It's still true that most of my goals are health oriented. I still want to run a marathon someday. I still want that active lifestyle and to pass it onto my daughter. I also want that smaller jeans size back though. I want to look in a mirror and see my skin glow like it was glowing. I want to see the bags under my eyes start to disappear again. I want to look good in a wedding dress--I want to look at those pictures and maybe not be completely happy with what I see, but know that I was well on my way by that point.
I've got until September to change my habits, though there's the possibility of a 10k in May I'd really like to do (it's still in the planning stage though, and they're not even sure if it's going to be held).
This time when that little demon of self-sabotage starts whispering in my ear, or even screaming, I'm going to take note that that's what's really happening--and I *WILL* squash it like the annoying little pest it is.