Thursday, September 27, 2012

Whiner Moaner

Once more it has been forever since I have taken the time to create a post.  Over three months!  I keep getting asked when I'm going to start writing again (usually by my family), but I keep telling them that a true artist has to wait for inspiration.  I promise that I am not really that vain.  To be honest, I just haven't known what to write about.  I have been craving a creative outlet like crazy, but I have not been able to make myself sit down and start typing (and when I do sit down at my computer, I find myself drawn to the biggest time-sucker on earth: Pinterest).
Of course, I compose small paragraphs in my head daily, but none have seemed worthy of posting.  I suppose I feel like each post is supposed to be earth-shatteringly poetic.  Also I was kind of on a roll posting about cleavage, and my dad asked me to please stop writing about my boobs.  Since swimsuit season is gone -- thank heavens -- that shouldn't be hard.

All boobs aside, let's get down to business....
Two words: Maintenance sucks.  I have been maintaining the same weight for a few months now and it sucks.  It's much, much harder than losing weight.  I completely and understand why people often gain weight back (slowly or quickly) after a significant drop in poundage.

Losing weight is fun, it's exciting, it's an effing celebration every week.  Losing weight is new jeans and awesome progress pictures and a reason to skip dessert because you are trying to hit that next goal.  Losing weight is daily compliments and pats on the back and feeling pride in accomplishing new things.

Maintenance isn't any of those things.  Suddenly my progress pictures aren't showing any progress.  My jeans are the same.  Stepping on the scale is no celebration.  Normal monthly fluctuations in my weight (due to water retention, hormones, etc.) send me into a tizzy.  People have stopped complimenting my progress because they are used to seeing me this way now (but my inner craziness makes me wonder if it's really because I'm somehow looking fatter).

Don't get me wrong, this journey has been, and continues to be about seeking health.  It is not about pleasing others or becoming skinny.  But that doesn't mean it's not nice to see continual progress, hear the compliments, and having a reason to go shopping (it's amazing when I have nothing to wear isn't just an excuse).

So, here I am... stuck.  I know that I am at a weight that is healthy for my body.  I don't necessarily want to lose any more weight (even though my doctor suggested I lose another ten pounds) -- I'm certainly not interested in setting unrealistic goals for myself.  I think it's more that -- even though I have preached to you over and over and over again that weight is just a number and it doesn't define you and all that other awesome stuff -- it's hard to stop seeing that number go down.  For the past year and a half, my weight has continued to decline and now it has stopped.  My body has hit the breaks and now I've stopped celebrating.  And because I'm not seeing myself get smaller, I am starting to pick apart all of my flaws.  I am struggling with body dysmorphia again (honestly, when I look in the mirror, I see that 257 pound girl staring back at me).  I have been feeling like because I am not making any "progress" that I have no right to be giving anyone any advice on healthy living.
I guess what is really going on is that I am struggling to switch gears.  I am struggling to see myself for where I am at today.  I am neglecting to see that I am making progress, it's just not on the scale.  I have been making huge improvements in the gym.  My mobility in Yoga has increased an unbelievable amount, and I have been able to increase my weights in CrossFit.  I am getting stronger.  I know that I am slowly -- very slowly -- approaching the ability to do the WODs as prescribed (if you don't know what that means, Google does).  I know that from a year ago, I am a completely different person.
I know I should be able to say "Look how far I have come!" with a huge smile on my face. But that is so hard to do when you feel like you have slammed face-first into a wall of bricks.  I am aware that I sound like a whiner. And I hate that. But the truth is, this is real. I know that I'm not the only person who feels this way.  Weight shouldn't matter, but for some reason, it can have a huge effect on a woman's measure of self-worth. And it's completely stupid illogical.
I have to switch gears.  I have to make changes.  I am going to make a valiant effort to stay off of that damn scale, number one.  And number two, I am going to find pride in the progress I am making in the gym.  Because that's really what matters.  I know in my head that I am strong and healthy.  I know that I am going to get stronger and healthier; and I am proud of how far I have come.
Thank you for reading.  Thank you for allowing me this virtual space to whine and moan.  Thank you for being my therapy.  But most of all, thank you for keeping me In Good Company.