Try, Try Again

Hello, friends. Yesterday, I found myself looking at my reflection, and feeling disappointed. My face has gotten rounder, my skin seems duller, and I just look… unhealthy. All those new clothes that I bought in celebration of losing 25 pounds barely fit me now, and I hate it. Despite all of the hard work I put into my diet and exercise at the end of last year, I find myself feeling like an absolute failure these days after falling off the wagon several months ago, and being unable to commit to diet and exercise again. I want to fix that. I want to fix me.

I think the biggest reason my last diet, although quite successful, failed after just 3 months, was because switched from a diet consisting of pizza, fast food, and carbs, to a “vegan” diet, on top of counting calories, very suddenly. I was eating less than 1,200 calories a day, and working out every other day, and it was just too big of a change, much too fast, and it drove me insane. I lost 27 pounds in less than 3 months, and felt better than I had in YEARS, but when I crashed, I crashed HARD. As much as I love him, I blame my carnivorous partner for about half of my crashing and burning. For always bringing home pizza, snacks, and wanting to eat out. For always telling me that cheat days were okay, even though I had already had 2 or 3 that week, and it was only Wednesday. For completely neglecting his own health, and being unwilling to work with me on making our entire household healthier. It was so hard to focus on eating right when I was surrounded by my favorite, terrible things, that I had been starving myself from. I needed his support, and he wasn’t willing to set aside his live of food to help me.

So, I failed.

I’ve managed to stay around my pre-pregnancy weight (give or take a few pounds, as my weight fluctuates pretty crazily), which is a tiny victory for me… but I miss feeling healthy. I miss daily walks, and Zumba three times a week. I miss having soft hair and glowing skin. I miss having energy. I miss buying clothes in sizes that I haven’t fit into in 8 years. I miss feeling proud of myself.

I’ve decided that I’m going to go back on my no meat/no dairy diet (it’s not full vegan, I still eat eggs, sorry), only this time, I won’t be counting calories. Giving up meat and dairy wasn’t all that bad, and wasn’t nearly as difficult as weighing, measuring, and logging every single thing that I ate. It was exhausting. Not allowing myself to stray off of my calorie count even a little, without being filled with guilt self-hatred, was awful. I was healthier than I had been since high school, and would still hate myself for eating a cookie. That just isn’t healthy, and it was a recipe for disaster.

Now that the weather is warming up, I’m going to invest in a new pair of sneakers, and a few pairs of loose shorts. I’m going to try to get outside more, and spend more time at the park with my son. I’m going to cook more, and research fun, new ways to incorporate more vegan-friendly foods into my diet so that I don’t end up eating beans and rice, or salad, every day.

I want to be healthy, physically and mentally. I can do this!

Jan

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Daily Prompt 3/14/2016 | A Fleeting Moment of Confidence

There were rapid-fire holiday and birthday get-togethers, and I found it harder and harder to control myself around all of the sweets and savory foods. So I didn’t. The weather had gotten gloomy, and sucked all the energy from my body, and I slowed down on my exercise, until I stopped completely.

In response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt 3/14/2016 | Fleeting

I have a very love/hate relationship with diet and exercise. As some of you may already know, from the middle of October to the end of December, I decided to make some changes, and started eating a mostly vegan diet (I still ate eggs). I didn’t do it for any moral reason, and I don’t care if you eat meat, or don’t eat meat, I did it for me, to be a healthier individual. I struggled a bit at first with giving up dairy, as a large part of my diet tended to include cheese, or milk products, but I found that giving up meat was pretty simple, as I never really ate much of it, and didn’t really crave it in any way.

Not only did I make this change to my diet, but I also decided to actually DIET during this time. I downloaded a free app called Lose It!, which I had used previously to lose weight, and began tracking my daily calorie intake, as well as my weight loss. If you are counting calories, and want a free, simple app to help you out, I highly recommend it. Between this complete overhaul in my diet, and counting calories, I found myself struggling to stay on track early on, as well as struggling with cravings. I had many, many slip-ups and cheat days for the first month, and kicked myself over it, feeling guilty and disgusted with myself. I tried to keep junk food and dairy out of my fridge, but that becomes incredibly difficult when you live with a dairy crazed carnivore who wouldn’t touch a vegetable if would save his life. Every other day he was bringing home cookies, or ordering pizza, or bags of chips, and it was unbearable. I even asked him to stop, but he never did.

I was losing weight, slowly, but not at the rate that I wanted, so I started exercising. I was already going on somewhat regular walks with my son, around 2.5 miles each time we went out, but with the weather getting colder, I knew it was only a matter of time before we would be forced to stay indoor. At the recommendation of a few friends, as well as my mom, I started looking up beginner Zumba videos on YouTube, and was instantly hooked. I was able to burn several hundred calories in 1/4 the time as walking, and it was fun. The weight started to melt off after that.

I lost 10 pounds. Then 15 pounds. Then 25 pounds. I had already reached my pre-baby weight, as well as my lowest weight since college, and I felt great. My skin had cleared up from the lack of daily in my diet, and I was able to buy clothes, several sizes smaller, for the first time since getting pregnant. I even began considering buying a bathing suit, and shorts, for the first time since college. I am not joking, I haven’t owned a bathing suit in 7 years, or work shorts in probably 5 or 6. I felt good, and I looked good.

For a fleeting moment, I was the happiest I had been in years.

Then, the holidays came. I tried to have some self-control, but no one in Kyle’s family seemed to understand my struggle with my body, or my diet. Despite being very open about my dietary restrictions, and politely turning down their cooking (they are the type of folks who cook everything with ten pounds of butter), they would just repeatedly tell me to “Just have a cheat day!”, or “You look fine, just eat!”, and it drove me nuts. Even when I did eat, his grandmother would keep pestering me to eat MORE, or actually BRING ME PLATES OF FOOD when I politely declined. She would get offended when I said no. I hated being forced to eat, but I allowed it to happen, just to please her.

That was the start of the end.

There were rapid-fire holiday and birthday get-togethers, and I found it harder and harder to control myself around all of the sweets and savory foods. So I didn’t. The weather had gotten gloomy, and sucked all the energy from my body, and I slowed down on my exercise, until I stopped completely. Over the course of barely two months, I gained back 9 pounds of the 27 total pounds that I had lost. I noticed the definition in my legs and waist going back to being flabby, and the new, smaller clothing that I had bought stop fitting me in a flattering way. And once again, I hated myself.

I tried to get back into my diet several times, but no longer had room on my phone for my calorie tracker app, and used that as an excuse to ballpark it, which ended in failure. I would get stuck eating my son’s leftovers from his meals, and using that as an excuse to eat other meat or dairy items, as I had already lost it for the day. I made a lot of excuses, and it showed. It showed all over my body.

The weather has started to warm up, and I have been able to get outside to walk more with my son, and he is finally old enough to play with me at the park. This has given me hope, and determination, to try to get back on track. My birthday is in a month and a half, and I have decided that I want to lose 10 pounds by then. I ate a vegan diet today, and managed to get a good walk in with my kiddo, as well as a brief Zumba workout (I am astonishingly out of shape from my time away from it). I felt great… until Kyle got home, made two amazing smelling pork burritos, and only ate one of them. He was going to throw away the other… and I ate it. Granted, I didn’t go bonkers on the calories today, but I ate a burrito that was basically nothing but meat and cheese, and I hate myself for it.

As I’ve written about in the past, self-control is my biggest downfall when it comes to anything. It has ruined everything in my life at some point. I love eating healthy, and I love exercising. I love fruits and vegetables and salad and cooking… but between the weather, my empty bank account, my un-supportive, carnivorous husband, and my horrible lack of self-control, maintaining any sort of healthy lifestyle is a massive struggle.

I’m hoping my self-hatred can outweigh my lack of self-control… otherwise, I fear I will never be happy with my appearance. And I can’t live like that anymore. I miss my fleeting moment of confidence.

Thanks for reading, friends.

Jan

Self-Control

Self-control… I have none.

As of today, I am down 26 pounds since I started my diet in October. Now, this might sound like quite an accomplishment… but I don’t really feel like it is. Right up until the middle of December, I had been busting my ass, making sure to stick to my diet (no meat, no dairy, and a calorie limit), and to get my walking and/or Zumba workout in. And it was going well! I was losing around 2 pounds a week, my skin was clearing up, and I felt amazing. I was less tired, and just happier in general.

Then… the holidays came.

I never wanted special treatment, or pity, or for people to go out of their way to prepare special dishes for me so that I could eat at family parties. I also never wanted people to say things like, “It’s okay to have a cheat day every once in a while!” or “Come on, it is Christmas! You can indulge!” Because, you see, for me… I have no self-control. None at all. I wanted to live in my happy little bubble, where I could surround myself with my healthy foods, and not worry about the cookies, hams, and cheese plates (all of which are super delicious, and evil). But, alas, the holidays came and went, and I was forced to be in the same room with these delectable dishes… and I caved.

I caved, and I gorged, and I can’t stop.

They say it takes 90 days to make or break a habit. I almost made it. I’ve been kicking myself so much the last few weeks, mostly for allowing myself to nod along and say, “You’re right, it is the holidays!” because I should have known myself better.

I should have known that those cookies were a slippery slope. That eating from the cheese plate would mean that in a few days time, I would be sneaking to the fridge in the middle of the night for a handful of shredded cheese, straight from the bag. I wish I had more support at home. But I don’t. Despite being quite overweight, my carnivorous, dairy addicted fiance insists that I am fine. He doesn’t care about my diet, or my need to have zero junk food in the apartment. He brings home packages of cookies, bags of chips, and random Buffalo Wild Wings, then ends up not touching them. So they sit in the cabinet or fridge, next to my brown rice, quinoa, and dried fruit. Taunting me.

And then, I snap.

Some days, I am so proud of myself. I stay within my calories, eat my veggies, keep my sodium down, and feel good about myself… but when the sun goes down, and my baby goes to bed, something inside of me just… snaps. I crave. Everything. It gets so bad that sometimes I find myself pacing the kitchen, wondering what would be “acceptable” junk food to satisfy my cravings. Carrots and hummus? Sure. Followed by 3 iced oatmeal cookies. Followed by a peanut butter sandwich. Followed by a handful of Tostitos…

I CAN’T STOP.

Is it boredom? I have no idea. Maybe.

On top of this, my son is going through a developmental leap, and has been a tiny (adorable) demon lately. Refusing to nap, taking forever to get to bed, throwing fits, and being clingy… making finding time to workout or do Zumba impossible. So the calories add up.

My weight loss has slowed… significantly. Actually, it has stopped. And it breaks my heart.

I know, I know. I have no one to blame but myself. Old habits are hard to break.

Can someone come and take all this junk food away? And yell at me to get my butt back on the right path? Please?

Jan