Week 1 - The (New) Plan to a Path Forward

Cue Rocky music.

Weight: 138 kg
Mental State: Positive
Life: (Definitely) Not Together Yet

Listen. If there’s one thing I’m consistently good at, it’s at being inconsistent. So to update you, my loyal reader, since last time (which apparently was in MAY), lets recap what happened.

I had started running using an app (C25K) and it was fun for the first little bit. I didn’t manage to “finish” a single one of the “days” but I was pretty proud of my increasingly vigorous attempts. After four days, I think, I started feeling this sharp pain in my legs. Not the regular aching that comes with working out after a long time. But this sensation that felt like needles in my bones with every step I took during the jog. My first thought is that my legs couldn’t support the weight. I started feeling afraid that I was going to break my legs. I had to stop.

To say it was heart-breaking is an understatement. I remember feeling so sad about my inability to jog. Running had made me feel helpful, optimistic. I felt like things were in my control again. And then it got taken away. I hated it. I hated the situation. I hated myself for letting my weight get so out of control that the very physical activity needed to lose weight was something I was incapable of doing - a physical barrier on top of the mental barrier I already carry. I stopped exercising. I started worse again. I gained back the very little weight I had lost. And then some.

A couple of weeks after I stopped, I was getting ready to have dinner with my brother. As we sat down together, we were forced to address some of the uneasiness that had been festering between us. I wouldn’t want to divulge the issues that he’s working on, but on my end, I know that I struggle to share. I’m very good about listening to others, providing helpful advice, trying to support them. But when it comes to myself, I’m the opposite. I don’t want to share with others, I don’t want to take their advice, I don’t want to need their support.

Against my instincts, but in hopes of improvement, I was honest with him during that dinner. I admitted that I had felt broken after the failure that was the running. He was kind and supportive, as he always is. He talked about how he jumps rope in the mornings and how I could do that to.

I left that conversation with a desire to try again. So I did. I’ve been jumping rope for a while now. I’ve continued to eat well—although less so in the last couple of days. I’m trying to hold myself accountable here. So I’ve returned to this blog and I think I need to force myself to write, even on the days where I feel like I’m a failure.

I hope it isn’t a couple of months before you hear from me again.