Because I Love Me, I Am Losing Weight

I was thinking recently of the emotional journey of losing weight. It's not purely physical, as anyone who has lost weight can attest too. What was the difference in my thought process between then and now? I really had to think back, but I do remember some of my reoccurring thoughts. Many of these thoughts I would even say in comments to friends. Some of my thoughts were,

"My husband will love me no matter what weight I am."

What I didn't ever stop to think was,

"Will I love me not matter how heavy I am?"

Had I ever stopped to look at it that way, I would have reversed the bad patterns right then.

Many times I felt like a prisoner in my own body as my sedentary lifestyle took over and my body became weak and unhealthy. I would get worried as my wrist grew too weak to pull pans out of the oven or to open a jar. Worry took over instead of change.

I had hypoglycemia and was becoming more and more unhealthy. One day, I decided that God gave me this body and it was up to me to care for. After all, I have to live in this body for the rest of my life. My choices make it a pleasant or miserable experience.

Because I love me -my body- I want to treat it with respect and lose weight in the way that makes me happy. I don't want to starve. I don't want to go hungry. I rarely count calories (I'll estimate), I just workout hard because I love working out. I would rather work hard to burn the calories than feel uncomfortable by not eating when I should. Yes, it may slow my loss down some, but I'm comfortable and not miserable.

When I began, I didn't love working out. I didn't like it at all. I had no friends to motivate me or go with me to the gym. One morning, I woke up and took a good look at myself and was disgusted with what I saw. That same morning I went to the gym and made a commitment to myself to love my body and care for it for me and me alone. That was one year ago this month. I'm still at it. I'm stronger than I have been in my life. I run further than I ever run and workout longer and harder and get this, I love it!

The only person I want to please or compete with is me. I want to run faster or longer than the last time I ran. If other women are doing more, more power to them. I am my own person. I know where I've been and what I can do. I have had 8 pregnancies- 7 children. That is hard on a woman's body. I've now proven to myself that if I have more children, great, I can still stay in shape and feel good about me.

I am amazed at how easy it is to victimize and prevent myself from moving forward. Some of the thoughts I had when I was overweight were, "Well, I'm overweight because of..." Fill in the blank and I used that excuse. I got sick of the excuses because they never made me happy and I always felt guilty about not doing anything about my health and weight. Excuses are the bricks laid around our prison walls. That heavy, miserable person really wasn't me, or was it? It certainly wasn't who I wanted to be. I will never really know exactly how I got to that point, but I do know what made me decide to change it.

It has been a very emotional journey. I had to first get rid of the guilt for spending time on myself. I worried that the kids or my husband would feel neglected. I had to get rid of that guilt before I could move on because my first workouts were only 15-20 minutes.

Next, I had to learn to zone out and just do it. Exercise takes time, time that I wasn't used to giving my body. I had to get used to sweat. I had to learn to be okay with getting sweaty.

I went to the gym with a friend one afternoon that had a cute workout outfit. She told me that it was something she gave to herself because she deserved to look and feel nice while working out. Here I was in sweats that were way too big as I had already started losing weight. My t-shirts were so loose they would inhibit my movement and sometimes get caught on the equipment. I decided then that I would get an outfit, socks and all. What a difference it made. I officially was a regular exercising mom. My psyche changed when I became "official" in my mind. There was no turning back. I had the rest of my life to look forward to.

Each time I met a milestone for the first several months, I would reward myself. Sometimes it was something small. Never was it food, I didn't need food as a reward. New shoes after I made it to 300 miles, a new iPod, a new pair of pants. They were always things that helped me get to my next goal.

When I think about where I was a year ago, tears come to my eyes. I've worked hard. I've added new exercises to my routine from running, to the elliptical, to weights, to spin class, to step aerobics. I am happy with who I am. My body is anything but perfect, but it's near perfection for me. My legs take me places; my arms are strong enough to easily lift my toddler. I have the strength to take all my kids shopping and come home and make dinner. I have energy for my family. My family knows their mom takes time to care for her body and they love the mom who has time and energy for them. Never give up!