Hello everyone,
So sorry for my extended absence. A friend recently said "You don't post much, but when you do, it's worth it." Hopefully this one will be worth the wait.
For any person with an addiction, they have to be ready to change, honestly and truly ready, or they will never achieve success. In addition, oftentimes being ready to change is accompanied by the idea of hitting "rock bottom," a person's lowest point as related to their addiction.
I have always had a hyper focused, high strung personality, and have used different techniques over the years to help relieve stress and anxiety. I was a compulsive hair twirler until I actually gave myself a small bald spot. (I have found myself twirling again lately, and always try to reach out and touch the bald spot as a reminder of what this is doing to me). I also tear off my fingernails, regardless of how short they are. I had a 5 year addiction to tanning (and I still miss it every. single. day), and now, my obsession, my love, my death sentence, is food. I am not a foodie, I don't have a particularly refined palate, I just have an insatiable hunger for foods that are not good for me, like Arbys, and cake. I spend money that I could spend on fun things on fast food instead, I have a stash of unhealthy snacks in my desk drawer, and I eat after people go to bed, so I can eat in secret. Food and shame are all tied up in a big ugly black ball almost like quicksand, that I feel keeps trying to pull me down and under.
In addition, over the past two months, three separate (and all very well meaning) people asked me when I was due, and many more have given my midsection the once over. I have an apple body shape, always have, but that means that since weight only piles (and piles, and PILES) on to my midsection, its very easy to be mistaken for pregnant. In all three instances, I found myself pandering and apologizing to these individuals ("oh, no worries, don't feel bad, I'm sorry, not your fault," etc.), and yet later I was filled with righteous indignation. I was taught that asking someone if they are pregnant or when they were due was absolutely a question that was not appropriate to ask EVER unless you saw a head crowning, but apparently not everyone learned the same. Then on Friday we had a group of people over for a party and as I was getting dressed, I realized that I too thought I looked pregnant, and realizing that what people had been saying and thinking was actually TRUE was a stark and painful realization, and got me close, but still not enough.
What finally kicked it into gear, was checking into Noom, a food and exercise log app that I use. After a big day of walking all over on Saturday morning as we hit up our neighborhood garage sales, I was happy to see that I had met my step goal for the day, and not only met it, but blown it out of the water--and then I saw what my step goal was. You see, Noom constantly adjusts and readjusts the fitness goals it creates for you based on what you are regularly doing, and Noom had adjusted my step goal alright--all the way down to 650 steps. A healthy person should be walking 10,000 steps (or 5 miles per day), but Noom had determined that I was so sedentary that my only goal would be to walking 650 steps per day, or less than one-half mile. (Now Noom only tracks your steps as you are walking around while carrying your phone on your body, but still).
I was so ashamed--650 steps? My goal, the thing I was reaching toward, was only to walk a half a mile. There are people in wheelchairs, or with prosthetic legs, or who are elderly, or infirm, who walk more than that each day. Why on earth was I wasting my life (and expanding my waist) by sitting around? It was humiliating to say the least.
Changes are being made--I been taking local Zumba classes that I love, I am rejoining a gym, and am strongly considering Weight Watchers, after I have seen the truly incredible difference it has made in a close friend's life over the last year and a half. I wish I could say I have some great, noble motivation for making changes, like being healthier and living longer, but right now I am not there yet--I am just tired of having everything below my face look ugly, and flabby, and pregnant. I am in no way fat-shaming anyone, and I know there are people out there who might be angry at how I am talking about myself, but I have a right to my experiences, my emotions and my own body image, and right now, its in an incredibly low, dark place, where there is no where to go but up.
So friends, enough sedentary activity, I'm logging off to walk my dog and get some steps. In addition, I'll be heading out dancing this Friday night with some girl friends, and am always up for a walk. Once I know what gym I'm joining, I'll share it here, and perhaps can meet up with some of you who attend the same gym for a workout! Let's all feel better, together!
I'd like to know--what are your motivations for getting healthy? And, what song gets you in the mood to move?
Hugs and health,
Nina
