Lately I’ve been feeling like I just want to be normal
Like I don’t want to track everything I eat every single day
Like I don’t want to worry about the calories I’m burning when I’m in downward dog, or when I’m walking through the park.
Like I don’t want to remember that I ever weighed 243 pounds.
This is totally normal of course. It would be crazy if I never felt burnt out, because I do push so hard, so much of the time. It would be crazy if I didn’t crave things like the pleasure of enjoying a drink without worrying about the sugar and calories and the effects on my metabolism. It would be crazy if I didn’t sometimes just want to eat without researching exactly what I’m eating and writing it down moments later.
So yeah, I’m burnt out.
And this happens when I get obsessive about things like calories, numbers on the scale, exercising.
I have to take a step back, remind myself that weight loss isn’t the goal. My weight isn’t the end all and be all of who I am, even though right now it feels like it is.
I got into weight loss because I wanted my life back, a life of activity, good food, fun, of being able to do what everyone else was doing, and now I’m in a situation that is the complete opposite of that.
I re-read an old article in the New York Times called “The Fat Trap” this week and it got stuck in my head.
Basically, it tells a story of what exactly has to happen to your body to lose a large amount of weight. We’re not talking 5, 10, 20 pounds. We’re talking someone like me, who had 100+ pounds to lose. It changes your body composition. It changes your metabolism. It changes the way you react to insulin. And to maintain that, most people find they have to be as meticulous about their lifestyle as when they were losing.
Some days, I’m scared that I ever was 243 pounds.
Some days, I’m scared of what lies ahead of me to keep losing weight, to maintain my weight loss, and to deal with that I was once 243 pounds.
Some days I don’t want that past to be part of who I am.
But it is, and it always will be.
So, yeah, right now I’m feeling burnt out. It happens, it would be crazy if it didn’t happen.
I’ll take a few days off from the scale, I’ll pull back on tracking, I’ll remind myself that even if I don’t write down everything that I eat, I won’t gain back the 90 pounds that I’ve lost. And I’ll probably enjoy a glass of wine along the way.
Weight loss on its own isn’t fulfilling. It never will be. I know this because women of all shapes and sizes are obsessed with losing weight and companies make billions of dollars off that obsession.
This is a fact I continue to fight for in myself and in my conversations with other women. I have to accept myself now.
In losing weight, I’ve always been fearful of the numbers taking over my life, which is why my weight loss has been so slow and I’m totally ok with that.
I’m more important. Loving myself is more important. Accepting my past and being excited about my future is more important.
This week I will be grateful that I have fresh food to eat.
I will be grateful that I am able to walk, run, stretch, dance, lift, whatever, especially in the wake of the horrific Boston Marathon bombings.
I will be grateful for my life and allow love to guide me to self acceptance and a peaceful relationship with my body and food.
“To be worn out is to be renewed,” Lao Tzu