Today has been a bit of a funny one.
First of all ‘weigh in’.
I knew I wasn’t going to be happy.
And I wasn’t.
I weighed in 500g over last week’s figure.
I moved the scales to another part of the floor and was even heavier.
I moved them back and decided to be happy with the original weight.
Then I went back to bed.
That’s right, I am such a sook, I decided not to bother exercising (first time since I stated 12WBT)
I thought an extra half hour of sleep would be kinder to my deflated self than half an hour of
‘breathless flailing about’ on the lounge room floor.
I have reaped what I sowed and have no one to blame other than myself.
And what have I done all day?
Well apart from my office job, I have read blogs.
I’ve read blogs from women who are awesome.
Not only for their inspiring weight loss, but for their inspiring honesty.
I was in tears for much of it.
I don’t know why, but I felt so emotional about some of them.
These girls (and the ocassional boy) were brave.
They faced their demons and they stomped on them.
They struggled mightily, on a daily basis.
All of them suffered but pushed through anyway and then they shared their pain in the most disarmingly honest way.
I don’t know if I feel inspired by what I read.
I guess I feel humbled (and convicted).
I felt inspired for them; for where they have come from and where they are going.
I wanted to cheer for them all, LOUDLY!
But me, I feel quite ridiculous and somehow fraudulent.
I am not ‘overweight’ in the true sense of the word.
My BMI has never exceeded the normal range.
I am unfit and there is excess squishy-ness.
I need to tone up and I could do with losing 5kg.
But now I am thinking more along the lines of 5-10kg.
Considering I did weigh 55kg for many years and have been as low as 44kg
(when I thought I was dying from a broken heart),
I think aiming for 58kg is being slack now.
I want to lose more.
My head has been messed with today.
I realise I never give my ‘all’ to anything really.
What am I afraid of?
Well, I guess I’m afraid of what/who I will be if I change.
I already like who I am (I think).
Sure there are physical things that I would like to be better.
I don’t want to ‘squish’ into clothes.
I want them to glide over my thighs and stomach.
I don’t want to feel like I am being cut in half by a pair of jeans.
But now I feel like my goals are so meager and kind of selfish.
I begin to wonder if the calorie counting and early morning ‘breathless flailing about’ on the lounge room floor
is going to achieve anything.
I think my brain needs to be transformed more than anything.
I have to talk myself back into it.
I need to remember the reasons I wanted to do this in the first place.
I have also come to realise that even though I’m not carrying 50 or 60kg or even 20kg in excess baggage,
there is baggage and it’s in my head.
I also know that losing weight and toning up isn’t going to change the way I think about myself.
Is this 12WBT Odyssey going to do something miraculous to my brain and my body?
Here is where my struggle begins.
Today is where I realised that there are hard-working, sincere, gorgeous women (and men) really making a go of all this;
really, truly turning their old selves on their heads and striving to be new, better, happier people.
And I’m not one of them…
Yes, they certainly do inspire me,
but where to start?
Today I feel like I don’t need a nutrition plan, I don’t need a gym or PT.
I need a bloody psychiatrist!
Blogs I read today:
http://www.fatcloset.blogspot.com.au/ (laughed and cried)
http://leitchy.blogspot.com.au/ (a genuinely good guy)
http://anthea427.blogspot.com.au/ (bawled my eyes out)
http://www.shehascuterunners.com/ (full of admiration for this lady)
http://myadventureswithmish.blogspot.com.au/ (admire her too)
http://sporadicbuckets.wordpress.com/ (an inspiring young girl)
All the love in the world,