And with that last question, I realized that it was not Prince Harry, but some guy who looked a lot (A LOT!) like him and was probably wondering why that crazy lady on the treadmill kept staring at him with a gaping mouth. Yep. I'm soooo cool.
Anyway, after my sighting of the Prince Harry look-a-like, I finished my two miles and wondered over the the weights area so I could do some of those nifty weight machines. Now, remember, I still have my iPod on, which I totally love. It's a shuffle that Evan won at some event thing while training in Alabama, and since he stole my nano (though it says my NAME on it), I have claimed the shuffle as mine. I love having music to work out to, and I have such a weird collection, that I'm sure if everyone could hear what I was listening to, they'd think I was super weird. For example, I enjoy everything from Black Eyed Peas to Big and Rich, Avril, Neil Diamond,Michael Jackson, Nirvana, Lily Allen, Carrie Underwood, Elvis and Sinatra. Well, I do, at times, forget that others can not hear the music. So, when one of my favorite Black Eyed Peas songs (Pump It!) came on, it took me a while before I realized I was SINGING OUT LOUD. And for those of you who do not know, I am not a great singer. I kind of suck. So, when I realized that I was being stared at, I turned fourteen shades of red and immediately stopped singing. I had no idea how long I'd been singing out loud, but I'm sure it was more than just a few seconds. I quickly moved to another machine, but not before I heard someone chuckling and realized it was the Prince Harry look-a-like. Omg, I wanted to die die die. Like I said, soooooo cool.
Back to my Weight Loss Journey...
After I realized that my birth control shot was probably what was stalling my WW planned weight loss, I immediately made an appointment with my OBGYN. We talked shop for a while, and decided on a different method that would not be such a shock to my system and I wouldn't have to remember daily--an IUD. I immediately could tell a difference. I felt less bloated after a couple of weeks and when I started WW again, I actually was consistently losing weight. It was fabulous. By now, we were in DeKalb and I was doing WW online. I was watching what I ate and getting my exercise in. It was a little harder with Evan in law school, but I went for walks at night and did videos and such during the day. I joined the local gym and worked out during my lunch breaks. I was on a role. I lost almost 25 pounds. I could tell a difference in my clothes and in my attitude. When we went back to our home town for a visit, everyone could tell I was losing weight. It was so nice.
After about six months or so, my scale at home went kaput. I told Evan I wanted a nicer one, and we went out and bought a fancy-schmancy Weight Watcher one. We brought it home, and when my next weigh-in day rolled around, I hopped on that thing excited to see if I'd lost anymore. I looked down at the number and gasped. I stepped off and back on again. Same number. I didn't get it. This scale was telling me that I was 10 pounds heavier then my other scale!! I made Evan get on. He hadn't really used the other scale. He also rarely gains weight (jerk), so he knew round-a-bouts what he weighed. He said it was right. I just stared at him. What did he mean it was right? That meant, according to this scale, I'd only lost 20 pounds instead of the 30 I'd thought. Evan told me it wasn't a big deal, that I'd been doing such a good job, I'd lost weight and inches, I was exercising, etc. But, I couldn't get the number out of my head.
And, so, I started self sabotaging. I quit working out as much. I quit weighing myself weekly. I quit watching what I ate. I went back to old habits. I was so crushed at what I felt had been a lie. I don't know why I didn't listen to Evan. I don't know why I didn't just keep plugging away. It was obvious to everyone that I'd lost weight, even to me. But, I was depressed. It doesn't make sense (it never does), but I felt like I had failed. Again.
I spent the rest of my time in DeKalb kind of half-assing being healthy and active. I'd go through spurts of trying to eat healthy and go to the gym weekly, but it'd be followed by no activity and eating like a teenage boy. I couldn't fit into my pants again and had to drag out the old ones I'd kept (probably because I'd known I'd fail). I never totally went back up to my most heavy, but I would get pretty close.
When Evan found out he'd passed the BAR and was accepted into the Air Force, we joined the Y in DeKalb. By then, I'd had Julia, and had only gained 20 pounds during the entire pregnancy and had lost it all. I'd, for some random reason, been really diligent with not gaining too much with this pregnancy. Evan had to start running and working out for the PT part of the Air Force, and we decided to go as a family. As Evan put it, this would be a part of his every day life in the Air Force and I should be making it a habit as well. He was right, of course. I did need it to be a habit. A lifestyle. So, after work, I'd come home and we'd get the girls ready. When we went, I liked going. I liked doing it together as a couple. I started having more energy and feeling good again. When Evan left for Alabama, he made sure that I was put on his parents' gym membership so I could keep working out. I went maybe once or twice a week. I lost a little bit of weight (more from being depressed from missing Evan then anything else), but nothing too significant. My jeans just fit better, not new size worthy.
When we moved to Colorado, Evan suggested we start looking for a Y for me to be a member of. I was going crazy at home with the girls by myself (hadn't quite adjusted to the SAHM thing yet) and I could use the break from them. I spent a lot of time walking around the neighborhood after Evan'd get home from work and was enjoying the exercise. I started noticing that EVERYONE in this stinking city exercised and would pass lots of people walking or jogging. I joined the Mom's Walking Club and every Friday we'd meet at a park and walk 3 miles. I was kind of digging the whole "outside exercise" thing. I wasn't necessarily losing weight, but I wasn't gaining any either.
The big "wake-up" call for me came about a month or so after moving out here. We were at Evan's boss's house for a cook out. Everyone from the office was there with their wives and kids. I was following a not quite walking Julia around and getting ready to fix a plate of food for the two of us to share. I don't remember exactly what made me notice, but I looked around at the other wives. They were all thin and fit. I am not exagerrating. These ladies all had babies younger then Julia and had either gotten back down to their pre-baby weight or were super close to it. I suddenly felt like a Macy's Thanksgiving Day balloon. I was the fattest person in the house.
That's when I finally started to really chang things. I rejoined WW (again) online and started a work out routine that had me going to the Y four days a week with my three mile walk with the MWC on Fridays. I couldn't wait around for someone to go with me. This is my body. It is my job to take care of myself. Not Evan's. Not the WW people. Not the girls when I'm too old to do anything else about it. Me. And, that's kind of where I am now. I've lost 15 pounds and inches. I'm down a pant size. I get grumpy if I don't get my exercise time in. I am enjoying working out and getting sweaty (Gasp! did I really just say that?!). I have made some friends in town that I meet at the Y. I have friends that are in my MWC that make sure I'm coming on Fridays (weather permitting). I'm still me, so I struggle. I don't always eat fantastically, but I do more often than not. I may skip a day at the Y, but then I try to work out harder then next day. I'm not perfect, but I've FINALLY come to terms with the fact that I will have to continuously work at this whole "healthy life" thing.
I've told Evan that this time, it's not a choice. I'm almost 30. This weight is never going to magically fall off (as I've so long thought it would). I have to put in the time and energy. I know Evan is watching me, wondering if I'm going to give up again. He'll occasionally ask if I'm still logging points and asks how my work outs are going. Sometimes it's annoying (especially if he's caught me on a day or week where I haven't been logging my points), but I know he's just trying to help me be accountable. And I'll slip up. I'll have bad days, weeks, maybe even months. I'm not always going to make great decisions, but there's a difference this time. This time, I'm in it for the long haul. This time there's no going back.
Now if you'll excuse me, I think I'm going to go and have some eggs for breakfast. And coffee (always coffee). And ignore the oatmeal cookies who are trying to convince me that because they have "oatmeal" in their name, they should be eaten before 9:00AM.
oh my god-- the ipod part was hysterical! I am waaaay too intimidated by the weight machines, but I always want to use them.
ReplyDelete