Thursday, July 29, 2004

I get knocked down, but I get up again

Thursday evening. Thanks to Marla for the inspiration for today's title. (I had totally forgotten about Chumbawumba until you commented!) You know, I think I should start charting these little funks that I get into because I'm willing to bet that they're fairly predictable and fall around a week before TTOM. In any case, thanks in large part to the collective butt kicking/motivational words of wisdom I got from all of you, I was right back at it yesterday. I did my entire 39 minutes of energetic walking (plus w/u and c/d) and it wasn't even hard. (Incidentally, I think that's what really gets me mad: it's not that hard - no part of it - and yet I manage to psych myself out of it. How does that happen?)

I also have a little milestone to share with you all, one which I only realized I'd passed this afternoon while talking to someone in the office. I started the Ten Percent Challenge at 262.2 pounds and said that my first and only (at that point!) goal was to lose 10% of my body weight, or 26.2 pounds. Guess what? I weighed in at 234.4 this morning, which is 1.6 pounds below my 10% goal! (Release the balloons from the ceiling and cue up "Happy Days are Here Again".) Yes, I really did it. Of course, it took me about two seconds to decide that I'm not done and that it's time to launch the Ten Percent Challenge, Part Deux. For anyone keeping track (gosh, I hope none of you are), that would make my next goal 212.4 pounds. It would be nice to reach that goal round about Halloween, although my birthday (mid October) would be even better. We shall see. The important part isn't how fast I lose weight, it's how tightly controlled my blood sugar is and how much easier it is for me to get out and be active. I really want to be running 60 minutes a day (yes, you read that correctly - not walking 60 minutes but running) by New Year's Eve and the key to that is remaining focused and motivated.

You want to know what's kind of a bummer, though? I've lost all of this weight - 28 pounds, nearly - and that's fabulous and everyone's so happy for me and yet, I'm still fat! It's like I want to say, "don't be happy, don't congratulate me...I'm still fat, can't you see that???" I know friends and family are genuinely happy for me and, don't get me wrong, it's really nice to hear the good wishes, it's just that I sometimes let myself be happy, too, right up until I get a sideways glance at myself in the mirror. After the sense of shock that the sight of The Stomach always provokes comes outrage that I've done all of this, lost weight, got my butt up on my freakin' vacation to walk on a treadmill, and I've still got this huge thing stuck to the middle of my body. I just want to scream with the frustration and loathing I feel toward It. Stupid, stupid, stupid, ugly fat blobby thing, why won't you go away? Why do you insist on hanging on to every one of your disgusting inches as though your life depended on it (ironic, since my life depends on losing those same inches)? I know, it's not positive to think or speak of a body part that way and yes, I remember that part of the Ten Percent Challenge was to be more positive about myself and the journey, but I'm being honest here, folks, and this is how I really do feel, deep down where all of the pain, fear, insecurity, and years of abuse live. This thing has brought me nothing but pain and ridicule for years - as long as I can remember, to be honest - and I know that I need to make peace with it, I'm just not sure how that happens. Slowly, would be my guess.

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