Friday night I got in my treadmill walk. I'm having to go a lot slower than I'm used to, but I can tell my foot is not completely healed. I am doing my best to be patient.
Saturday I got in my final Boot Camp workout of the Intro phase. I was thinking about doing some additional cardio after I finished the Boot Camp, but then decided to be sensible. I hurt myself by overdoing things; I don't want to push my luck. I did do some yoga which will hopefully help me to recover and get stronger again.
It's hard though. I am impatient to get rid of these extra few pounds that showed up over the winter and I don't seem to be making any progress at all. It's frustrating and it's depressing.
I've been reflecting on my weight loss [or lack thereof] history lately. I was never one of those girls who was obsessed with dieting when I was in my teens. I was conscious of my size - it's hard for a young girl not to be - but I was not overweight so it was not something that I seriously worried about.
I first joined a gym in 2002. Up until then I had been an on-again-off-again exerciser, but by then I had definitely started worrying about my weight. At that point I was around 135 lbs, which was 30 pounds more than I had weighed 5 years previously (should mention I'm 5 feet tall). During those 5 years, I had moved to a new city and started my first full time job. Then moved to a different city and a different job. Then got married. Then bought a house. They were busy years. I had started trying to diet, change my eating habits. I was sure that joining a gym and getting into a regular exercise habit would help me get back to where I should be.
Establishing the regular exercise habit worked. I looked forward to my sessions at the gym. But my weight pretty much stayed the same. Since then, I have tried and tried and for my troubles I have gradually gained more. I don't know why.
I have always admitted that eating is the hardest part for me. But since this winter I have also realized that while I may not eat perfectly, I actually eat pretty well. Lately I have been eating more veggies than ever and cutting down on sugar a lot (not that I ate a huge amount before). I eat very little in the way of processed food and most of what I eat is home cooked. I don't eat large portions. Yes, I do have splurges. There are times when I don't choose the healthiest option. But overall, I think I do pretty well.
So, I'm pretty much stuck. To be quite honest I feel let down. Betrayed. By my own body. I'm doing my best to treat it well and do healthy things for it, and it is not responding in the way I think it should.
There's a lot of talk out in the blog world about body image and learning to accept one's self. I appreciate the sentiment, but I'm not quite sure I can ever accept this. In all honesty, I don't really want to. This slow creep of pounds, growing out of my clothes, getting more uncomfortable with myself is not a happy journey. It's downright frightening. What did I do to deserve this? Nothing, I know, but I can't help asking the question.
Ok, this is not really where I meant to go when I sat down and started typing tonight. But it's been on my mind and it makes me sad and tired. Now it's off my chest. I'll throw it out there to the universe and hope that the universe will be kind.