This year marks four years since I lost weight. My body changed so quickly as I lost weight. So much so that it took the rest of me to catch up. When my body began to change once again, it was slower. Noticing only when I needed to go up in sizes in my clothes. Still, as slow as it was, this too has taken me to time to come to terms with.
My lifestyle is different, the amount of time I dedicated to working out is far less. Back then I was doing two work outs nearly six days a week. These days I do about thirty minutes four to five days per week.
The kinds of food I eat then and now are similar. However, these days I am more apt to go through a drive through. Dig into several helpings of ice cream. That tomorrow I will do better or I worked out so it’s alright.
But it’s not. Not because I’m no longer skinny but because I’m setting myself up for failure with each choice. My family has a host of health issues. Many of which can be avoided with good health.
Part of it is being busy. Another part is just wanting to have to not be so careful. Having to count every calorie that I eat. After I initially lost weight, I traded in binge eating for calorie counting. No middle ground from one to the other. In some sense I feared what would happen if I would gain weight.
But I have gained weight.I am a failure. I’ve failed, again and again I have made the bad choice. The lazy choice.
[Tweet “But I have gained weight.I am a failure. I’ve failed, again and again”]
But not the easy choice,it’s never the easy choice. It’s sometimes the convenient one. Or falling back into old coping mechanisms.
But I keep going. I keep trying because I understand the greater reward. Failure happens but it doesn’t mean I need to stay there.