Category: thinking

Insomnia

I couldn’t sleep last night, so I spent most of the night listening to my husband’s soft breathing beside me, watching shadows shift slowly on the bedroom walls, and thinking. A lot.

Maybe it was actually a blessing in disguise, because instead of getting frustrated that I couldn’t sleep, I decided to go with it. Think. Pick up that thread. Pull on it. Keep following it. And when the train of thoughts got uncomfortable, I pushed on, let it sting, and then simply asked: “So what now?”

I won’t bore you with too many details of my late-night pondering. Hours of sleep-deprived imaginings are not exactly coherent, anyway. In a nutshell, I just got to thinking about how I am back to playing games with myself, doing a half-hearted workout to say I did one, snacking and not logging it in my food diary, convincing myself I will do better tomorrow, and how all of that is inevitably going to add up to being right back where I started.

The very thought of that made me feel like someone was stepping on my chest. Hell, no! I worked so hard to lose this weight, to get stronger, to run again, to be proud of myself. Why am I so hell-bent on shitting on all of that and ruining all of my hard work and progress?

I woke up today, after finally dozing off, with one thought: I am going to succeed today. It’s non-negotiable. I owe it to myself. Get back on track, finish this journey strong, find new goals to focus on and surpass.

I don’t want to regain any more weight or slowly slide back into unhealthy habits that leave me discouraged and unhappy. I have wasted enough time in that dismal head space over the years, and I don’t want to go back.

I don’t know why last night’s insomnia-induced musings finally opened my eyes, but it is worth the fatigue I am slogging through today. I just keep repeating to myself, “I am going to succeed today.” And I will. And tomorrow too, and the day after that.

I owe it to myself, and no one can do this for me, so time to get back to work.

Unhealthy

I already know that tomorrow’s weigh-in will be a gain.  There’s no avoiding that.  I could go into all the excuses, how many hours I’ve worked this week, how tired I am, but even I know all of that is just rationalizing bad choices.

I could get angry.  I could give up.  I could use it as evidence that I just can’t do this, and then gain some more next week.

Or I could look really long and hard in the mirror and ask myself how much I really want to lose weight, get back into shape, get healthy.  True, I have a crazy schedule.  But now I am skipping workouts even on days that I do have time, claiming I “deserve a break”.  God, I am rolling my eyes at myself even as I admit that.

I don’t have to work past normal quitting time tonight, and I am so excited.  My husband has already texted me, saying he’s happy I will be home early, and then we have all weekend together, too.  Do I see some lounging around, being lazy, in my weekend?  Most definitely.

But what I also see: sitting down with my planner, scheduling my workouts for next week, and making meal plans.  Things aren’t going to change themselves.  I need to put in the effort.

And it’s become very obvious that I have been putting very little effort into myself lately.  I just plain look tired.  I look and feel unhealthy.  My under-eyes are black as raccoon rings.  I am the heaviest I have ever been in my life.   I have trouble just walking, because my extra weight hurts my feet and knees and back.

I could bore you with every ailment, but you get the picture.  I am currently the poster child for the middle-aged stereotype: out of shape, worn out, letting myself go.

It makes me sad.  There’s such a disconnect between what I used to be, and what I am now.  And I don’t like it.  I feel like I don’t completely know myself anymore.

Ugh.  I have a lot to work out, inside and out.  And it starts this weekend.  Time to think, unwind, recharge, make plans, and get back into this game, like I mean it this time.

“I’m starting with my intuition
I’m starting with my strengths
I’m getting back my old ambitions
Returning once again.”

–Fire In Me by John Newman

Experiment

Ever watch “My 600-lb. Life”?  I’m not a big TV watcher, but while my husband was flipping channels one day, that show caught my eye.  They were old episodes, not even sure why they were on, but one of the morbidly obese women made the comment that to do something like this to yourself, to let yourself be so overweight, you have to hate some part of yourself.

Wow.  That really stuck with me.  Okay, so I am nowhere near 600 pounds, but her words made me think: do I hate something about myself to let myself be overweight?  Do I hate part of myself so much that I refuse to take care of myself or respect my body enough to be a healthy weight?

Off the cuff, I’d say, no.  I don’t hate myself at all.  I think I’m a pretty cool person.  I don’t think I can use hating myself as an easy cop-out for being overweight.  But it’s an interesting thought and leads me to ask, well, why then?  Why did I let myself get this overweight and out of shape?

One huge reason is, I am overwhelmed.  I am juggling too much, and the whole diet-and-exercise thing just feels like one more ball to keep in the air.  When it’s time to let some of them drop, that is the first one I let fall.

Now, don’t get me wrong.  I’m grateful beyond measure to have a job where I am considered critical, important, valuable.  Just this morning, the president of our company came into my office, told me the draft of a letter I did was impressive, and said, “I know you could find a job somewhere else with your skills.  I’m glad you stay here.”

I don’t hate my job, not at all, especially after some changes over the past few months.  I just have a lot of responsibility, a lot of demands, and that translates into a lot of pressure.  Right now, I have a lot of deadlines and due dates, and I feel rushed and frantic non-stop.

All right.  So how do I take some pressure off of myself?  Obviously, I can’t just tell my boss, “Sorry, buddy.  Gotta lose some weight, and I need some me-time.  See you in a few months.”

I am going to experiment for the next few weeks.  All this measuring, logging, tracking, recording…to hell with it.  I know damn well what a normal serving size looks like.  I know water is better for me than soda, and that wings (however heavenly and delectable they are) are not a good daily food choice.  I know if I was active today or not.  I’m going to drop my food diary and the pressure to get every bite, every sip, logged.

I kicked around the idea of a monthly weigh-in instead of weekly, but I don’t know about that one.  I can do a lot of damage in a month!  I believe I need to stick to weekly weigh-ins to keep myself in check.

Last night, my stepson had plans, so my husband and I took his dog for a long walk.  It was fun, just strolling along, talking, joking around.  My husband said he’d like to do it more often, and I would, too.

I’m already feeling like I’m in a better headspace about this.  I won’t pretend I have it all figured out and am an expert on getting my shit together, but at least I have the process started!

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