Beware, this is gonna be a whiney blog.
You've got your chance.
You can turn back now.
I mean, I wouldn't blame ya.
Or you can leave a quick comment, get a Spark Point and head back to safer ground.
Here, I will even provide some quick comments for your copying and pasting pleasure:
* jes, you're weird
* jes, what's gotten into you?
* jes, quit yer whining
* Is this the Ceramics class?
Okay, now that we've gotten that out of the way....
Yesterday it was beautiful weather for the first time in what feels like a good six or seven years. My husband and I both went out walking (although not together, and he ended up running more). There were blooming trees. There were friendly dogs with soft, velvety ears to scratch. There cute guys from BC (er, that's Boston College, and not British Columbia, although the two are not mutually exclusive) to ogle.
And today ... feh. Back to dismal drab icky blah-ness.
It seems almost worse that we had a good day as now it's even clearer what we are missing.
It is not just the weather, kids.
It is still being unemployed -- and Unemployment is looking to run out in something like five weeks.
It is 32 weeks now of being stuck at 201 - 206 pounds. It is the increased calorie experiment (I'm not done with the experiment yet, and I am attempting to be patient with it) resulting in an incredibly exciting no change since last week.
It is watching my friends also drowning in sameness and fatigue and losing their motivations or at least seeming to be dragged out and grasping for motivations.
It is a feeling of wondering --
Is that all there is?
And I didn't go with the Peggy Lee song (although I suppose I could have), but the sentiment is similar.
There is a lot of foofaraw given to starting. And I totally get that, because initial inertia is mighty powerful. There is an enormous amount of support given to the new, the fresh, the inexperienced. So much to learn! So much to see! So much to do!
And a bunch of changes are made (assuming that person is committed to losing weight) and firsts are attained. Goals! 5Ks! First size change! First ticker change!
Suddenly that person is eating 8 fruits/vegs in a day! They're drinking eight 8 oz glasses of water! They're walking a good 10,000 steps on average! They're weighing and measuring! They've given up soda! They've joined a gym! They finally said no to cheesecake! They tried quinoa!
And while this is all awesome, folks like me, well, we've been there, done that.
Yanno, Spark has four diet stages. I am in the fourth. I have been so for, I believe, over two years.
There are no other stages. This is it, kids!
And it's hard, after a while, to get up, day after day, week after week, month after month and, yes, year after year, and keep on keepin' on.
There is no more low-hanging fruit to pluck.
There are no more simple lifestyle changes.
There are no more quick or even moderate fixes.
Now it's just work.
Slow, slogging, hopefully steady work.
And people wonder why maintenance is hard, why the success rate (yes, even here) is far less than 25%.
I know, and I'm technically not even on maintenance yet.
It's because it's a lot to sustain, over time.
It is not easy.
It is not pretty.
It is not celebrated, except by those in the know.
Longevity is not an easy accomplishment.
Ask Cal Ripken.
It's not as flashy as big numbers. It's not as exciting as wins, and trophies and newbies on their personal growth roads of discovery.
There is no award here for 100,000 fitness minutes. Should there be? I speak not just for myself but, yeah, I kinda think so. I mean, doesn't that level of commitment warrant some actual recognition?
Hell, there isn't even an award for 10,000 fitness minutes, except for a quickie mention in your feed.
There is an award for attendance, yes, but it feels odd and unglamorous, like Miss Congeniality at the Miss America Pageant. Nice try, Toots, and everybody loves ya, but you lose the tiara and the scholarship to the gal who trained a chihuahua to accompany her on the harp and flugelhorn while the two of them sang "The Girl from Ipanema".
I am well aware that health, etc is the main reward. I do get that. And while this is a whiney blog it isn't, so much, being written by me to get you to recognize me.
It is, I hope, for you to recognize longevity in yourselves.
This is a freakin' marathon.
It goes through every Middlesex village and town of your life. You know, the one where you blame your eating habits on your mother, and then a later one where you forgive your mother and then yet another one where you figure your mother wasn't to blame at all. It's in the town where you get the "I didn't get diabetes" trophy, and the one where you get the "I can still walk upright and with strength and purpose even though I'm eighty" award.
But those towns can seem far away, at times, and so whiney blogs like this one bubble up to the surface.
And, by the way, no, this is not the Ceramics class. That is two doors down, you can't miss it.