At this moment, I am officially the heaviest I have ever been while not pregnant in my 31 years on this planet.
That is the kind of scary and uncomfortable truth about the state of my weight.
Yep. Those are my feet on that scale. And that number is my weight as of today. Seven pounds heavier than the day I left the hospital after having Emma.
It’s weird. All of this weight has crept on slowly, almost imperceptibly. Until one day I looked in a mirror and there it was.
I feel like I’m living in that movie with Gwyneth Paltrow where she’s a heavy woman but that one guy sees her as skinny. Except in reverse. Sometimes I think all reflective surfaces everywhere in the world are lying. There’s no way I can possibly have gotten as…fleshy as this.
But I know that those reflections aren’t lying because I can feel the extra pounds weighing me down.
I feel the fullness in my chin. I feel the rolls in my midsection hanging over my jeans. My boobs are kind of out of control. (Which, contrary to popular belief, isn’t a great problem to have.)
Basically, I’m tired of it. I love my life and am generally happy with it, but I don’t much like my body and the reflection I see in the mirror. I don’t much like the way I feel.
I want more energy. I want to be healthier. I want my kids to grow up understanding what it means to be healthy, mentally and physically.
And so, I’m doing something about it.
First, we joined the gym. Again. The big gym. With childcare and a pool and yoga classes and row after row of cardio equipment and a giant weight floor that scares me a little bit.
As much as this is my journey, I’m not on it alone. If we’re going to be a healthy family, well, we have to do this as a family. When I drop Joshua and Emma off at the childcare center, I tell him it’s so I can go and exercise and be healthy. If we talk enough about it, and if I remember that I’m doing this for them, it’ll become a way of his life, too, right?
I’m meeting with a trainer at the gym this afternoon while Joshua is at his swimming lesson. I’m terrified of being judged but fully realize that fear is all in my head. Probably.
Second, I’m going to make small goals each week or every other week related not necessarily to my weight, but to my overall health. Small changes that I think will have a big impact in the long run.
My first goal is to drink more water. I’m terrible about drinking two or three cups of coffee in the morning and then sometimes nothing else for the rest of the day. I might grab a soda with dinner but my daily intake of fluids of any kind, much less the “right” kind are low.
Finally, there’s losing some weight, which was one of my 31 for 31 goals. 31 pounds to start and then we’ll see where it goes from there.
When Dan and I were engaged, I dropped 30 pounds in advance of our wedding. I weighed myself once a week, on Wednesdays. I chose the middle of the week so that if I had an indulgent weekend, I had Monday and Tuesday to get back on track.
I’m not sure it made a difference, but in my head it made sense, so I plan to adopt that strategy again. Weighing once a week on Wednesdays. Writing about it to keep me accountable. (So y’all, keep me accountable. But gently, mmkay?)
If you’ve been waiting for the right time to make some changes and you think now is it, join me. I’m not opposed to making this a link up if there’s any interest.
If you just want to watch from afar and don’t want to join me, that’s okay, too. Especially if it means you’re at a place in your life where you’re happy with yourself and where you are. I want to be there too, so I’m doing this anyway.
Here goes nothing, right?
Weekly Goal: Drink more water
Weight Loss Goal #1: 5 pounds