I've let go of this blog and this subject. I've been debating about picking it all back up again. I'm still thinking about it.

While I'm mulling that over, here's some comments.

Next week I'll start boot camp again with Jamie. It will mark a year since I met Jamie, started working with her, and set some goals regarding health and weight loss. I'll be brutally honest. I'm heavier than ever. I'm not pushing a ton, or anything. But I am heavier than when I started exercising one year ago. I know that's not how it's supposed to work. I've sabotaged myself by eating excessively. Poor Jamie doesn't know what to do with me. I keep showing up, working my tail hard, then coming home and eating everything in sight. I know where the problem lies - my high empty caloric intake. I've made some random efforts to change that but with no lasting success.

 The worst part is that as I go on my waistline will grow. Because I will continue this. There is no plateau situation here.

 But I keep working my tail. I've spent a year working with Jamie off and on (mostly on). And I am stronger, physically. I've found the emotional strength to power through some stuff. I fended off a pretty big looming black hole. So I guess it's not all bad. I started the couch to 5k program today. I got out there and jogged, then walked, the jogged, then walked, then shuffled... but I made it through. And I did it in the rain. Much to my HUGE surprise, I think I could do this with some ease. I don't feel like I need special equipment, I'm getting out of the house so no one is interrupting me, and the program is only 30 min - a manageable time. Yes, it was hard. Hard to keep going, hard to put my head down and feel like I was going to be OK. I wanted to cry. But I made it. One of my goals was another 5k this year.

I actually want to run this one.

Wonders.

I joined a gym today. I sat outside for 15 min before I got the courage up to walk in. I only used the treadmill. The joggers were a bit intimidating. I watched Jeopardy without the sound, so I wasn't sure if my answers were right. I weighed myself in the locker room. 208 pounds. Honesty, it's hard.

Official numbers

After the weekend debacle of ill fitting pants, accompanied by all the other stressors, I tried to accept that I had gained weight (again!). Feeling like I just wanted it all over with, I ran the numbers officially today. I stood on the scale, held the body fat percentage machine, and stood still while the tape measure clicked away.

There's good news, and bad. First, the bad. No weight loss. No change in body fat percentage. No change in measurements. I've spent 12+ weeks now, sweating and busting my butt at least twice a week, with no numerical difference.

Now, the good news. I did not gain any weight, either. Sure, I'm no better than I was 12 weeks ago (from the number point of view), but I'm not worse off either. And the truth is... I am better. I'm not fantastic. Or ready to run a mile. But I am more active. I'm much more involved. I'm just moving.

So. I refuse to be held hostage to these numerical things. Sometimes it's more than just numbers.

Click.

I feel like I've really gained weight the last few weeks. It occured to me last night that a few weeks ago is when I finally fully weaned the kid. I didn't improve my eating habits, so I'm guessing that the calorie burn I was doing naturally while nursing was helping a little.

I really need to do something about this.

I feel particularly frustrated about the whole diet/fitness thing today because I just have no energy. A quick jog down the block left me breathless. Climbing the stairs seemed hard. Logically, I know this is becuase I'm running very low on sleep and energy reserves (plus, I missed some of my medication doses). Emotionally, it just feels like I've eaten myself back into a trap.

I've spent 12 weeks trying to tackle this weight thing. 12 weeks of showing up, sweating everywhere, pushing and pulling myself into something better. 12 weeks of nearly perfect attendance. And I've signed up for 6 more weeks.

These days, I run after the kids. Today I chased bicycles, ran in circles, tossed a ball around. Yesterday, I missed a phone call because we couldn't hear the ring over the ruckus we were raising, stomping our feet and spinning around, doing our wild crazy dance. The other night, I took all three kids out bicycling by myself. I'm almost new. I dance with a new freedom of being, knowing joy found in setting some goals and achieving them.

My freedom is fragile. I'm still enslaved to my addiction. I still stuff my feelings under helpings of cake. I justify my fast food stop. I'm drowning in my own skin.

Yesterday (after the dancing incident) I overhear my mother in law talking about this exercise thing I've been doing. She was almost bragging on me, talking about the strenuous work I've been doing. I felt like such a fraud. Today, I put on a pair of pants that fit two weeks ago... and could barely button them. Tomorrow, I'm supposed to spend the afternoon in a swimsuit, surrounded by thin and fit people, and canoe down a river.

I packed a pair of shorts and a tshirt to wear, because I'm not sure I can brave the suit all afternoon. Out of the water. I tried to bow out of this adventure last week, but my convenient excuse was solved for me and I was too chicken to admit the real problem.

I don't feel joyful. I just want to cry. And eat. I feel like such a failure. And I don't know how to say it outloud to the people who care, can help, will support. So I dug back into this space, because it feels like the whispered in the dark admission.

Sometimes I hide from myself.

I haven't been here in forever, because I lost my way. I couldn't handle the constant battle. This has been so hard. Trying to change, trying to work, adjusting my viewpoint... I got tired, worn out. It's the same old refrain; nothing is new and everything stays the same.

Except. I started a fitness boot camp. Twice a week, for an hour, I let a personal trainer kick my butt all over Carondalet Park. We jog, walk, do stairs, lift weights... and it's good. It's good to get outside, away from everything else, to push myself into doing more and giving more than I thought I had. First session of camp is almost over and a second sesion is due to start. I'm almost signed on for a second run.

Spinning my wheels.

I've crashed and burned out on this whole thing. Like any good thing, I've ruined it spectacularly. My inner ugly voice is telling me that I've been stupid, lazy, and there's no point. In the meantime, I've harvested some smaller sized clothing from my closet. And I didn't feel like a fat freak in today's choice of shirts. Even my winter coat feels too big. Which is actually good (aside from the fact that it's spring time and it's not even a proper coat - more like a jacket) because I have a nice wool coat in the closet but don't wear it because it's felt too small. Hopefully it will feel like a better fit. But none of this has driven any kind of motivation to keep working on change. The last two days, especially, have been bad. So bad. Tons of junk food, snacks, sugars, and general overeating. I don't feel well, which I think is related to overeating (and eating unhealthy) both in triggering the coping mechanism to overeat because I didn't feel well to start and the actual food/quantity making me feel sick to my stomach. As usual, I'm very tired. Feeling ridiculously tired. And I feel crazy. Mentally unwell. I don't' know what that means, exactly, just that life seems way too hard right now. I feel like I want/need a sick day that I can just spend all day in bed, wearing pajamas, or sitting around watching TV. But that's really not in the schedule this week... I'm trying really hard to go back to better choices and habits. The truth is that I don't want to be this way. I don't like feeling this way. It's just where I am right now, unhappily. There are so many words stuck in my head. So many things/ideas floating around. So little focus. I am feeling incredibly isolated and socially inept. So. This is the ugly place I'm living in right now. Looking to move out. Looking to move on.