Things have been going well.

I have been feeling positive (in as much as I can be with my Eyeore like personality).

And then one day I was scrolling through Facebook and saw this:

Did I mention I saw this little gem on my 6th wedding anniversary? Or that I was feeling like a horrible lump of dough that didn’t deserve a loving awesome husband?  (And honestly, shouldn’t we just stay off Facebook on days such as that?)

I think, had this been posted by a man, I could have just been temporarily furious and then moved on with my life.

But it was posted by a woman.  A ‘friend’.  A person who I know has never struggled with her weight.  (She may have lots of different struggles.  I’m not judging her.)

To give her the benefit of the doubt, I assume that she had no idea how hurtful this would be.  I am positive that wasn’t her intention.  It was just a little way to brag about her fitness level with the comment “Gotta buy this for the hubby for Christmas!”

And I am sure that I am being overly sensitive here.  Maybe the stupid shirt is just a celebration of running wives versus those of us who look oddly similar to the signs on women’s restrooms?  Who knows?

One of the hardest things for me to accept about myself is this:

I like food that tastes good.

Maybe you suffer from this affliction too?

Here’s the difference between me and let’s just say a normal person.  I like food that tastes good so much that I would go hungry before I ate something I didn’t like.  I don’t know if I’m the only one.  But if I was starving and you offered me a salad of kale and blueberries with no dressing my response would be “Nah, I’m good.  I just ate yesterday.”  (And please kale apologists…I know it’s healthy and can be prepared to taste awesome.  I’m just talking here.)

For most of my life this has been a huge barrier to weight loss and just healthy eating in general.  Every time I start a new diet, I convince myself that this time will be different.

I will learn to love broccoli!

I will eat 8 servings of greens a day! Raw!

I will give up salt, fat and anything else that makes food taste…ya know…good.

Is it any wonder I have failed so often?

So I’m determined to spend my next however many years learning to make good food that tastes good.

In theory this seems like a doable plan.

In reality, I am facing the Everest of personal goals.  Ya’ll…I have chopped, diced, and pureed myself into oblivion here.

I work hard in the gym.  And it is paying off.  But I have to work just as hard in the kitchen if I have any hope of success.  I can’t be trusted to make hungry decisions.  If I wait until I am ready to eat to decide and prepare something I think we all know that things are going to go badly.

So I’m taking baby steps into this cooking deal.  I wouldn’t expect to start seeing a bunch of recipes on here or anything but who knows?  I might perfect collard green doughnuts.

It could happen.

29 pounds in 33 weeks.

Trust me when I tell you that this will never sell on an infomercial.

If you have over 100 pounds to lose, you know what 29 pounds lost looks like?

It looks like nothing.

Ever seen those ads that equate ten pound lost with one pant size?  Yeah, that’s wrong too.  I suppose it may be true if you have only ten pounds to lose.  But I’m wearing the same size I did the day I started.  They are loose and I look like an ill kempt hobo but that’s not the point.

If you think I am upset about this, you’re (mostly) wrong.

I am impatient.  I am often discouraged.  I am SO ready to buy new workout clothes.  I am beyond ready to wear the massive variety of clothes in my closet that I refused to get rid of when I gained this weight.

But can I let you in on a secret?  I’ve already written the last post in this series. I’ve already declared victory.  And I did it 29 pounds ago.

Ya’ll, that’s either Holy Spirit level confidence or complete idiocy.  Some days I can’t decide between the two.

And the temptation to give up is so strong.  I want so often to delete that future post.  I want to write an apologetic paragraph and start pretending this blog never existed.  I want to get lap band surgery. I want to get full body liposuction.  I want to pay some skinny chick to impersonate me.

But I’m not going to do any of that.

I’m going to get up every day and attempt to live outside of bondage to food.  I’m going to put on my pajama pants and go work out. I’m going to put that disgusting kale in my protein shake and try to be grateful for greens.

Things fall apart.

A baby is born.

You don’t sleep for 48 hours.

Half your house has a first day at school.

Your home is covered in dirty laundry, baby clothes and school supplies.

You have no food in the house.

You eat hospital food, chick fil a food and sometimes no food.

You miss 5 workouts.

You can’t remember what plain water even tastes like.

You don’t get your photo taken with the new baby because you are ashamed of how you look.

You are ashamed of being ashamed.

And when things fall apart, you only have two options.

You can survey the damage and decide it’s too hard, too much.

You can chalk the whole thing up to yet another failed attempt.

You can convince yourselves that you have no time, no money, no energy to keep going.

You can curse the media obsession with skinny and claim you are fine just the way you are

Or

You can get a grip.

You can focus on why you started this thing in the first place.

You can accept that life is often messy and rarely if ever perfect.

You can remember that your goal is to change the rest of your life, not the rest of the week.

Let me try to say this without using bad words…

If you believe any of this garbage, it’s a good sign that you might be in an abusive relationship with yourself.  I suggest you consider divorce.

It is this kind of pervasive nonsense that keeps overweight people out of the gym.  Heck, it probably keeps thin people out too. Am I the only one who does not think fitness should equate to BLOOD? I’d just as soon sit on the couch and eat a doughnut sandwich if the only alternative is puking and pain.

It’s these extremes that are our downfall.  Nobody gets 1000 re-pins on Pinterest for an inspirational quote like “Do squats.  They build muscle in your thighs.”  or “Try the treadmill.  It’s friggin boring but it strengthens your heart.”

So here’s my response to the Muffin man (whoever the heck he is!)

How ’bout you pin that on your fitness board?