Eighteen months ago, I was so proud of myself. I had lost 90 pounds and looked and felt fabulous. I was never going back. Except I did. I went about 25 pounds the other way. Twenty of them in the six months since we moved. And it feels miserable. Sure, there are reasons for it. Stress. Stress eating. Minimal exercise. Bronchitis. Bad weather for running. But, eventually, the reasons become excuses. And, once again, I’m done with excuses.
Two weeks ago, I ran my second marathon. It was a miserable experience. I ran the first 14 miles and felt pretty good. But then it got hot. And I started to walk – which tightened up all my muscles, making it difficult to do anything other than walk. Even the walking was excruciating. But, I finished. It took me 29 minutes longer to finish than my last one did – perhaps because it was 77 degrees. Perhaps because I weighed 20 pounds more than I did last May.
So, even though I am proud of myself for finishing the marathon, I am incredibly disappointed in myself. I made choices that led to a bad performance. I didn’t train well – no running for six weeks because of bronchitis, skipping long runs because of bad weather and the holidays. Eating when I knew I shouldn’t have.
But I’m done with it. I’m done with my favorite clothes not fitting and feeling embarrassed by myself again. I’m finished with eating food that only makes me feel terrible about myself. And, perhaps most importantly, I am over not exercising properly and giving my body the opportunity to excel the way that I know it can. So, I’m holding myself accountable. At least thirty minutes a day for myself. Yoga, running, walking. Pushing myself toward the me I know I want to be and can be. Are you?