I've been in a pretty bad place lately. As in, approaching 300 pounds bad place, and feeling like I can't put my foot on the brakes. It's terrifying. The reality is, I have all the power to be able to stop this; I have the power to put things in reverse. But I am having trouble accessing it. I don't know where it is.
This morning I had a nice chat with my co-worker Kristen, the one that I encouraged to get into running with the No Boundaries program and who is now kicking butt training for a half marathon this fall. She has been encouraging me to get back to running, and I am so happy that she is not giving up on me, because in many ways I think that when I stopped a few weeks ago (a month ago now?), is when things really started going downhill. I know that you can't out exercise poor eating, but I tell you what, running all along did help me maintain the weight I lost. Since I've stopped I've just been gaining and gaining and feeling depressed and more anxious than ever. Talking with her helped me really make that connection in a meaningful way. She reminded me of the endorphins. Oh gosh, I forgot about those. No wonder I've crashed and burned lately. I get psyched after a good bout of tennis, but it's nothing like the feeling I get post-run, even a short one.
I have to do something, anything. I think I can still run. I do sprints during tennis and I almost always run to retrieve errant balls that go all the way down court (happening less and less, but happens sometimes), and I do fine.
I hereby challenge myself to run a mile this weekend. Just once.
As for the food part? I have a good day eating like every third day. I don't think that today is one of those. I don't really want to talk about what I've been eating, because quite frankly, it is embarrassing. Suffice it to say, a lot of junk and some beer on top of that. I wouldn't deny that this might be a mild form of self-abuse, to be honest. It's hard to break out of.
Part of it is my terrible way of dealing with stress – food is definitely my go-to when it comes to "medicating". At the same time, it does make me feel like shit physically, and then in turn, emotionally... it's a vicious cycle. Of course I have broken that cycle many times before and I will again, I have no doubt. Right now, though, it feels like total and utter crap.
JUST RUN A MILE. Just prove that you still can.
Can we talk about tennis for a minute, though? That has been bringing me joy, little flickers. I'm still not a consistently good player, but I've noticed since we started playing again the past week that I can hustle a good hustle (better than ever before!) and my serve is improving. I'm more surprised when I don't hit the ball than when I do. Tennis is fun and challenging, and I like the gear – the racquets, the outfits, the shoes, the courts, the lifestyle, the pro circuit. I like it because sometimes you really have to hustle but then you take a breath. You get to sit down for a minute every few games. Then you hustle again. I like the word hustle.
It's just that I am starting to really feel the fat on my body again in a way that I haven't felt in a good long while. And I look at old photos of myself and know that I never want to look like that again. You would think that would be enough to stem the bleeding.
One thing I can do is keep it at the front of my mind and to keep writing about it here, however painful and tedious it is. You don't have to read it. You can look away. I'll never know.
One day I will be OK again.