I don’t feel any crazy pressure. I don’t feel like I have to run psychotically. In fact most weeks these days I’m only running about 4 times a week. Some weeks its 3, some weeks its 5 days. But honestly not more than 5 days a week and that’s barely. I feel very balanced. Balance is not a word I am too familiar with. My weight loss efforts finally feel balanced. I am not doing anything I wouldn’t/couldn’t do for the rest of my life. For instance, this last week I ran on Wednesday night, I ran Thursday night, an hour each night, right around 6 miles each time. I took of Friday night, came home and ate too much instead :) But the point is, I was able to open a box of crackers and just eat from it without counting anything, and just eat Better Cheddars because I wanted to. Eat a handful of almonds, eat Gold fish crackers, etc., and just let it go. Then Saturday night I went out to Red Lobster, made good choices, no butter etc, but then had a wonderful raspberry margarita. No guilt, no shame. Just had one and it felt great.
Yesterday I was home all day and ended up running more out of pure boredom because I wanted to kill time and I was having fun, not because I felt pressure to. I did 2 workouts during an awfully boring 8 hour day and finished with close to 2 hours, 13.3 miles, around 1500 calories burned. Honestly, this is the most intense workout I’ve had in months. This is the first time I’ve exercised for more than an hour in a day for a very long time. Usually it’s just my standard 60 minutes, somewhere between 6 and 7 miles. It works for me. Sure, I could tweak my efforts to get myself to 140 pounds but I’m not exactly sure what for at this point? I’m happy, I’m living my life, I’m eating well, I’m exercising, I get to indulge when I want. Things are good.
I do feel like the national spokesperson for Subway though. I swear I have a subway sandwich for lunch 3 times a week at least. It’s good, it’s healthy, and it’s filling. It gives me energy and keeps me going. That’s what I’m going to have today.
I feel like when I turned 30, or perhaps it just the passage of time coinciding with my turning 30, I just feel calmer about my life, or a smidge of acceptance with who I am. Sure, I still have breakdowns, or moments of weakness where I hate my body or think it’s not good enough. But they are few and far between and I am happy and at peace with who I am. I knew 193 pounds was unhealthy for me, I felt unhealthy and unhappy. If I get to 140 pounds great, it will happen naturally as I’m living my life and that would be fine, as then it would truly be something I could maintain. But I won’t force anything this time. I am who I am.
I think the best evidence is the photographic kind, so here are some photos of me today that I just snapped. I could make some comment about what I don’t like about them, but the truth is, they aren’t too bad. I’m okay with the image I see. It’s not perfect, but how boring would that be anyway. I am who I am.
