A Journey of a Thousand Miles...Or Pounds

Greetings!

For those of you that don't really know me, let's just get this out of the way.

I'm a chubby girl.

My body and I have a love/hate relationship.

I've never been skinny.

Fit, maybe.

Skinny, no.

I never will be.

I accept that.

However-I want to be HEALTHY.

So, my husband and I decided to join a weight loss challenge. I thought this was great.  I'd done it before and I knew that with him on my side, I would ultimately succeed.

So, now we're three weeks in.

I am working my tail off.  Literally.

I am counting every calorie that I put in my mouth. Including chewing gum.

I work out until I am sore.

I haven't had a soda for TWO DAYS. (that's a long freaking time.)

I've lost 6 pounds.

He's lost 25.

Argh.

Let's just say that I'm flustered.  Incredibly flustered.

I almost didn't work out this morning because I was lying in bed thinking...what's the point? It's not like it does a lot of good.  So, I laid there, scratching Lily-my cat-and letting my mind wander, which I've found is never safe.

And I recalled something that happened quite some time ago.

A little insight...

I might seem like a tough girl, a Regina George type, to some.  But, even us Reginas get our feelings hurt when someone is unkind to us. We don't always show it, but we remember it and we beat ourselves up for it for the rest of our lives because we feel like we've let someone down. And most times...that someone is the girl looking right back at us in the mirror.

I won't elaborate because it's not necessary.  I just remember feeling so, so worthless and wanting to just sit down and flip off the world and quit.  In fact, I remember getting in the shower later that night and bawling my eyes out-(in the shower so that no one could see or hear me.)

I simply wasn't good enough or fit enough.  I let myself down.  I let myself believe that I was nothing. I fell right into the trap.

So, when someone asked me today why I wanted to lose weight-I tried to be sweet and coy and even funny with my response when in all reality, the thought running through my mind was "because that will never, ever happen to me again. I will not let it."

I will never, never let that happen again.  I will never allow myself to be treated like that or to feel like I'm not good enough.  Ever.

So, I pulled my chubby buns out of bed and decided to kick box my way into Thursday.

Why?

Because I'm not worthless.  Because I'm not a straggler.  Because I'm not a follower.  

Because I AM worth it.  Because I AM a leader. Because I DESERVE better.

So, 6 pounds is a success. That's 6 pounds less that I have to carry on my shoulders...or more accurately, my backside. :) 

It's 6 pounds of self doubt, fear, guilt, failure and worthlessness.  

And maybe 1 Snickers bar that I ate when I was sad.

Goodbye 6 pounds.

Fare thee well.

Don't ever come back.

I honestly never want to see you again.

Also, to the people involved in this experience, thank you.  

I appreciate your example.

Thank you for inspiring me to be better and healthier and more kind than you ever were to me.

Now, off to bed so that I can kick box the trash out of another 6 pounds again tomorrow.

Here. We. Go.