It’s Not Always Rainbows and Puppy Dogs

This journey I am on, it isn’t always rainbows and puppy dogs. I don’t wake up every day feeling fantastic and I certainly don’t find my workouts to be easy. Yes, it is getting easier but it is not easy. I struggle, it’s hard, it sucks, and if that hasn’t come across in my blogs I am sorry because the last thing I want to do is give you an incomplete picture of what my life is like. I do try to keep my blogs positive because I am trying to keep a positive attitude myself but I don’t want you to read something and think that I make it sound so easy and then end up disappointed when it isn’t easy for you. I struggle trying to find that balance in my writing between staying positive and still incorporating my struggles and the real, somewhat harsh details.

Lately I have found myself angry about this person I have become; angry that I let it get this far without doing a damn thing to stop it. I got quite upset the other morning when I was taking a shower. Most days I shower on auto-pilot, I have a routine and I always find myself following it step-by-step each day. I don’t really think too much about it, I mean it’s just a shower- what could I possibly have to think about? This time was different though. As I was washing up I noticed something that I do everyday. For me to clean my lady parts I have to literally lift up my stomach in order to get to them, it’s pretty disgusting. It’s embarrassing to admit this and it makes me feel ashamed but on that day all I felt was anger. Anger that I let it progress to that point and anger that it never affected me until that day. Why had it never bothered me? Why did I let my weight spiral out of control? The only logical explanation must be that I completely stopped caring about how I look which in turn means I completely stopped caring about my health.

Paul’s uncle passed away a few months ago due to complications from Type 2 Diabetes. It was heart-breaking. We both loved him dearly and this loss was hard on both of us. I used to get so frustrated that Paul’s uncle couldn’t get his diabetes under control; he didn’t follow his doctor’s guidelines and battled with sticking to his required diet. I would always get upset because he was battling an illness that was completely controllable and he was losing. It broke my heart that he had given up on life; he stopped believing he could overcome it. Well, this was just my misguided viewpoint. Somehow I felt that people who were diagnosed with obesity related illnesses brought it upon themselves and that being faced with a death sentence would make it easier to fight to get your life back on track. I was very naïve. Somehow I thought I was different because I was ‘healthy’ but I was only fooling myself. I was 136 pounds overweight. I was a heart attack waiting to happen, I was probably just a few years away from contracting Type 2 Diabetes. I was digging my own grave and everyone around me had to watch this happen as I did nothing to stop it. The only difference between me and Paul’s uncle was that he was fighting to stay alive and I had given up.  Going through this now I understand how hard it is to fight the battle against obesity and I see that Paul’s uncle never gave up, he just couldn’t win. Because of this I know I have to try harder, I have to fight every day in order to overcome my obesity, and win my battle.

Most of my days are made up of small victories, battling all the crappy problems that come with being obese and trying to get in shape; like jumping rope last Wednesday at my boxing class. I have inadequate sports bras (well not anymore since I just forked out $65 for an Enell sports bra) which leave the girls flopping around when I jump rope. Most days this is annoying but on Wednesday it was down right awful because it was the day before I got my period and my breasts were super sore and tender. Ten minutes of jumping rope felt like hell. It was one of the most painful experiences I have ever had. It literally felt like they were tearing away from my chest that is how bad it hurt. It sucked but I knew the pain was temporary and it would end once we were finished jumping rope. Or like Thursday when I had demon cramps and really bad ‘indigestion’, which I always get on the first day of my period. I felt like shit and wanted to sit on my couch and eat ice cream. Instead I forced myself to go to the gym where I spent an hour on the recumbent bike nearly in tears. Between the cramps, the upset stomach, the broken A/C (the high was 96), the sun beating down on my face, my sore feet and legs (due to taking a kickboxing class Wednesday- which is a whole other story) I didn’t think I was going to make it. It was awful and I found myself questioning whether or not it was even worth the effort. I periodically have days like this, days where I want to quit, days where I don’t feel I am progressing. I feel sad and hopeless and I want to give up but thankfully I don’t. Somehow, I manage to find a way to keep myself going, to work through the pain, to see the light at the end of the tunnel and move on.

I know one thing that helps keep me going is seeing that downward trend on the scale almost every week. Seeing that change helps to keep me motivated through the rough patches. My biggest fear, which is another big motivator, is that I will hit a plateau and not be able to push through it and in turn give up. Although I am doing many different things to work on my physical strength, I am still afraid that mentally I am not strong enough to push through a month or two with no movement on the scale. This is another reason why I push myself so hard. Each week that I see that scale move is another week I can avoid my fear of not losing weight and forever being obese.

Speaking of obesity, I would like you to think about something for a minute. My goal weight is 150 pounds, which is the high-end of the healthy weight range for my height. This means I am currently 110 pounds overweight which is crazy. I am basically carrying around another person’s worth of weight. For those of you who are of average weight, I would like for you to think about your activity level and how it would feel to do basic things like walk, climb stairs, jump rope, ride a bike, with 110 extra pounds on your body. Think about how much more effort and energy your body would require of you to do simple tasks and how much stress these tasks would cause on your body. Every night I go through the rotation of icing my knees, feet, and ankles. My back is sore and most days I smell of tiger balm/icy hot. For those of my reader’s who are overweight/obese; I want you to think about how much easier life would be if you didn’t have to carry around that excess weight. I would assume that this is something that helps to keep you motivated to push towards your goal- it does for me. I often think about how much better life will be with less weight to carry around. In my head, being at a normal, healthy weight must feel like walking on clouds.

I hope that by reading this you were able to understand a little more about my battle with obesity. It’s not pretty. It’s certainly not easy. But I take full responsibility for letting myself get to this point and know I am the only one who can get me back to a healthy, normal weight. I also hope that I did not upset or offend anyone by what I wrote. The only goal of this post was to share with you a more realistic picture of what I am going through, my thoughts and struggles with my weight and how it is impacting my life. I just wanted to put these thoughts out there so you can see a different side of me because my goal of this blog is to be open and honest about this journey with you and with myself. I try to follow the words of the magnificent Dr. Seuss; “be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind.”

Thanks for reading!

June 6, 2011. Tags: exercise, happiness, obesity, struggles, weight loss, Weight Watchers. Life, obesity. 27 comments.