I am stealing/borrowing a title from Tolkien's The Hobbit because it seems so appropriate for this blog post, which, in the interest of fair warnings to any reader, is epically long like a Tolkien work.
A click on the weightloss label on the right (lower) sidebar to the blog would reveal several blog posts I've had over the years discussing my goals and successes with attempting to losing weight. Several years ago, I finally kicked some motivation in high gear, and decided that part of the process to help me start was by posting weekly on here about what I was doing. It was a way of holding myself accountable. And I had great success, losing 100 pounds over the course of just under 2 years.
One will note that the posts stopped after awhile, partially because I felt that the routine became ingrained and I needn't worry about slipping, and then because I just decided to spend less time blogging (something I wanted to change for this year), and then because I didn't want to face the reality of what had happened. That reality - over the last 2 years, the weight slowly but surely came back, to the point today where I have gained 50 of the 100 pounds I had lost.
Simply, it stinks. It stinks when you know you can do something (because you have), you know exactly what you need to do (because you have), but you fail to do so. I have thought about this post for a month, because I have been trying to figure out how to explain what happens, because in my situation, its easy to look at that I stopped exercising, but that would not have led to weight gain on its own, and perhaps not at all if I had ate right. My problem has been, and always has been, eating too much food. When I was exercising regularly, I was burning 500 to 600 calories every day, which gave me a lot of leeway if I had a bad eating day. Once that stopped, I needed to eat right, and I couldn't do it. And I am still at a loss of how to explain, how to articulate those feelings, where you feel compelled to eat more, and more, even while you have a conscious internal conversation about how you can't eat what you are about to eat. It was an every week, every day thing for the last 18 months or so.
So, for me, facing this realization is not the admitting of a failure 18 months in the making, its admitting of a daily, repeated failure, for 550 days. Consistent failure is never easy to swallow. But I've swallowed it repeatedly, along with copious amounts of food.
Last year about this time, a new wrinkle was added to this story. I was carrying Maia and headed downstairs when I slipped right at the point where the steps and ground floor met. As I started to fall forward, I remember thinking very clearly, "this can't happen," as I had a 2 month old baby in my arms. I threw my head back and kicked my left leg out against the wall, in an attempt to make sure I went down on my back, with Maia safely in my arms. I succeeded in accomplishing this goal, but suffered some pretty good pain in my left knee. After if failed to subside after a couple weeks, I went to the doctor, and he diagnosed it as "micro-tears" in my ACL/MCL. Nothing too serious, but needed to take it easy for awhile. This became a well executed excuse for not walking (when the knee, after another couple weeks, should have been able to handle that).
As a result of that doctor appointment, my doctor mentioned to me that because of my weight and age (ugh, really), I should consider having my cholesterol measured. So I did, and, no shocker, it was very high, and should be addressed. You would think this would be motivating, and it was, but not necessarily in the right way. I learned what foods were good to eat to bring down the bad cholesterol, which were good to raise the good cholesterol (thereby improving the ratio), but I still didn't exercise and didn't really worry about calories. I continued to get more involved in various organizations, continue to justify the poor eating choices (quicker options, allowing more time for "more important" things), and continued to justify the lack of exercise (fatigue, didn't know what I would cut out to make time for exercising - it wasn't enough of a priority to those other things). The predictable happens when such things occur, and hence the resultant gain of weight that was previously lost.
Interestingly enough though, the dietary changes, though I didn't lose any weight (and continued to gradually gain some), did result in a lower cholesterol (about a 20-25% reduction in the last year). I knew what to eat, I just needed to eat the right amount, and exercise, and probably everything would come together. Over the past couple months, I've been trying to get myself back into the right frame of mind to make the necessary changes to get back on track, to put everything together. In so doing, I forgot (or simply chose to neglect to remember) what worked for me previously. Things that I've read about trying to lose weight discuss not beating yourself up every day for a mistake, not weighing yourself everyday, being patient with yourself. This is the opposite of what worked for me. When I was losing weight, I was obsessed with it as a project. I compulsively counted my calories and figured in how much I burned each day. I not only weighed myself every day, but three times each day (morning, home from work, just before bed time) and noted how each weight and time adjusted depending on that day's individual routine. I had to be obsessive in order to be successful at it, and it worked. Once I stopped with that obsessiveness, I stopped being successful. It may not be a healthy way for others to work at the problem, but for me, who views things not as time commitments but priority commitments, obsessing about it made it a priority, so I committed in ways I would not have otherwise.
And that kind of brings me to the present and this blog post. I guess I'm writing it for the same reason I wrote all those post 4 years ago about how I did in a given week - how many minutes I walked; how, for whatever reason, writing for my blog makes me feel accountable. Today, I got up at just after 5 to hop on the treadmill. The hope, is that each day I will get up right at 5 ( or shortly before) to do the same. It will be challenging during the week, to get in a workout and get ready before Jackie needs to leave for work, but after failing to get into a routine for the last two months to make exercising at night consistent, I think this is the best option; not to mention that the plethora of evening meetings I have frequently removes certain nights from being possible. Ultimately, this time thought, its not just the exercising that needs to be obsessed about, or just the counting of calories, but, considering the cholesterol issues I am now aware of, become obsessed with just being healthier and embracing a healthier lifestyle, and then being patient with the results.
We'll see how things go, but I feel like my weird sense of blog accountability and over obsessing worked in the past, it can work again. I just have to make it happen this time.
"Fall seven times, stand up eight." - Japanese Proverb
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