And I cried.
A lot of New Year's Resolutions only make it for anywhere from 1 day to 1 month. All of the folks that crowd the gym on January 1st, are gone by February 1st. I made it through October.
Ten months of working hard. Ten months of sweat, tears, and yes, even once or twice, blood. Ten months of feeling like my right knee was going to blow up because of ITBS. Ten months of being exhausted and hungry most of the time. Ten months of wishing others would notice the weight I've lost, and ten months of being confused when they do, because unless I hold up pictures side by side, I don't.
But also, in ten months I went from hardly being able to do 1 squat, to doing 100 squats in a work out. In ten months I went from doing push ups against a wall, to doing them on the floor on my knees. In ten months my sitting row went from 30lbs to 130lbs, and my lat pull down went from 30lbs to 110lbs. In other words, in ten months my back was stronger, and my spine was protected and secure, from even me. In ten months, my calves started to have more definition than my trainer's calves. In ten months I went from taking naps after an hour long workout to doing three workouts in a day and burning 2,000 calories or more daily.
In ten months I limped and hobbled everywhere I went, but in ten months I had lost 63lbs.
Only today is November 30th, and I haven't worked out in two months.
I also haven't blogged for two months because I felt ashamed.
How lame is that?
I mean, seriously? In the recovery model, relapse is actually part of it! But for some reason I don't feel like I can relapse without hiding out in shame, and that is just plain dumb. Isn't the amazing part, not that you pretend that you never fall down, but that you get back up after you do? It's not like there came a day in October when I just decided to quit. It came up slowly, and insidiously. My birthday happened, and suddenly I didn't care what I was eating anymore. My trainer wasn't able to train me because of crazy sales goals, and so a "week" of rest I had given myself, turned into two months off. And by the time I started to care about getting back on the wagon, I felt embarrassed that I had been off of it for too long.
I hate shame. Shame is stupid. And shame is one of my greatest struggles.
But today it's not about being "good enough", whatever that means. Today isn't even about starting over, because I haven't lost footing. I got on the scale this morning and I'm still 63lbs down. That is the grace and mercy of God alone.
Today is simply about burning some calories.
So, today I'm not going to worry about losing two months in my year of working out. Today I'm simply going to work out. Today I'm going to watch my food, and today I'm going to wear myself out. Even if that happens in ten minutes. Because tomorrow I'll build on that ten minutes, knowing that I'm getting better, without focusing on "what I've lost".
Being out of work has forced me to put my gym membership on hold. I have it through the month of December, and then starting January 1st, unless I've found work, I'm not going to be able to go to Lifetime Fitness. But seriously, this is life. And it's not going to stop me.
Besides, I've got 31 more days in December.
And a bedroom in my house that looks like this:
And a new addition to the living room
And these guys cheering me on, and joining me for some walk/runs
And this reminder to keep me sane in the kitchen
And so, now it's time to get this girl's head back in the game
So that I never go back to this
Because it's so much better feeling like this
I like those curves better.
It's elliptical time.
Love you guys, more than you know, and more than I say. See ya soon.
Kelly
