Turning the Tide

Here’s what’s up: Despite what I’d thought, the last two years took a toll on me. And last August, for sure, when the kids’ dad and I moved (separately) half an hour west of where we used to live, but to different towns, so the kids had to change schools and move to two new towns and join a new soccer team and everything, it fully kicked our asses.

Anyway, we’re all settling out. The kids are doing well, making friends and having playdates and activities.

And I’m starting to relax a little, turning my attention to an actually more mindful assessment of how I’m doing (and why) instead of being in crisis mode about how the kids are doing.

I still don’t have enough time to really train for a solid race or anything. But I’m trying to fight back against the feeling of inherent defeat (based on schedule), and I thought I was beginning to work hard again, fitness-wise. Goodbye, squishiness.

I have low expectations of myself this year, in terms of races. I had higher expectations of myself in the past, which made sense, when I could run a lot. I can’t now, and frankly, making a wage that keeps us afloat is more of a priority. I might have to take an evening/every-other-weekend gig (do such things exist?).

Plus I’m trying to keep my house clean. And I am dipping my toe into online dating, which is generally a horrorshow.

But people, I have porked out. I knew I was getting bigger, but my workout clothes still fit, and I’ve been working out when I can (mostly strength training/Tabata stuff, because I’m feeling time-stressed lately, like I cannot take the time for a good relaxed run).

I went out last night (to an axe-throwing event, to which I was invited for social-media-influencer reasons). It was hard to get dressed for. My jeans don’t really fit anymore. I’d like to think it’s because I’ve been doing so many squats and lunges that my quads and glutes are just too big, but I don’t think that’s quite it. So I squeezed myself into my “loose” jeans, which are now my “only jeans I can still squeeze into” jeans.

I added a belt (hey, when did that belt get so short?), black t-shirt, and necklace, plus my favorite boots.

I was uncomfortable all evening, like my clothes didn’t fit right. Then my friend took a video of me throwing axes and I looked at it and felt like shit. I looked so chubby and awful and porky.


I feel gross. So much self-loathing was churned up by this.

So I’ve decided to do something about it. Not just work out more, but cut out the wine, cut carbs, whatever. Plus I joined a DietBet, which I have done before. Basically, you pay $20 (or whatever amount) and everyone in the “game” puts in that amount, and you have four weeks to lose 4% of your weight, then you split the pot with whoever else also lost that amount. So it’s a good motivation to lose it.

When I’ve done this in the past (maybe six years ago), I didn’t take the healthiest approach. I think nothing much changed about me until I had a week left, then I googled a Cosmo article about losing weight fast, then I basically lived on water for three days or something, then fasted completely (no water, even) for 12 hours, then did my final (successful) weigh-in without passing out somehow.

This will not be my approach this time. I just need to be more mindful about food and exercise.

Also, this is weird, but after all that self-loathing last night, I did the mandatory full-body photo (has to be submitted to DietBet, plus a photo of the scale with my weight and the word they send me for proof) and guess what? 

I don’t think I look terrible here! I don’t think I look like a pudgy chick squeezed into jeans. I think I look like a strong person (in a bathroom crammed with litter boxes and a hamster cage, sure).

So maybe my jeans are the actual problem, not my body.

In any case, it’s time to drop some of my adjusting-to-our-new-life weight and feel like I am at one with my body again.

Wish me luck. Wish me luck in getting fit, and wish me luck in learning to love myself, which is actually the real problem here.

Thanks for reading (*blows dust off mike* does anyone still read this thing?).

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