Inner Demons

Today I am struggling with my inner demons, fighting with them really. We all have them. Some days we are on top of the world (see the past couple posts for that) and some days we have moments of weakness and doubt (re: today). I’ve actually been thinking about this post since 3 AM when I awoke and had to pee and consequently could not return to sleep successfully for far too long. I did eventually make it back to slumber land but not before formulating part of this entry in my head.

This is what happened at a little past 3 AM this morning. My stomach was grumbling at me, as in it was hungry and asking me to feed it. I was instantly mad. Yes, I was mad at my body. Mad because I had eaten a sufficient amount of food already. I truly had. I had a great healthy dinner even at like 8 PM. I had fresh chicken breast, corn on the cob, a plain baked potato and bread. I followed that up with a quest bar for dessert and then a little while later when my sweet tooth was nagging at me I had 2 Lindt White Chocolate truffles. So yes, I am eating. A significant amount of food so I was mad that at 3 AM I was hungry. Oh, not really mad exactly just frustrated.

I am frustrated because with all this extra strength training comes this hunger that I have not experienced probably ever. Mostly I only ever ate out of boredom or when I was hungry but I overate to full. I never experienced a constant hunger. And then I am frustrated because I am feeding it all the things I should be and I’m still hungry. Okay, I’m not going to lie to you guys. I might lie to people in real life but this is the place where I come to confess my sins. This is my Catholic School Girl Confessional Booth. I am mostly frustrated because I feel like I have zero willpower and I feel like I am losing control and we all know this is a lot about control. I have not been happy with the route I’ve been taking lately. I feel like I have not been nearly as dialed in with my eating. I have not been entirely proud of all my food choices. I am no slacker when it comes to physical activity but my food has always been a point of contention. Especially when I see statistics and completely believe that this whole process is like 70-90 percent about nutrition and only 30-10 percent exercise. It’s not good when the nutrition portion is bothering you.

Of course in the wee hours of the dead of night aside from feeling frustration over my food choice and my growling stomach I tried to consider what was at the core of my frustration. Was I really this upset about being hungry? No, not really. What was eating at me? These are much harder concepts to fully evaluate. It occurred to me after another night at the gym that I think I’m slightly disillusioned with my body.

Let me explain. I do love me and all the progress I have made. I love the changes that are occurring in my body. I am proud of everything I have done. I really am. BUT… because there is always a but in life, I am also fundamentally frustrated about the realities of the situation. No matter what I do, no matter how hard I work or how much effort I put in at the age of 34 there is irreversible damage done to my body. I can work my ass off but I cannot get rid of my stomach or my thighs, that extra skin and sag. And yes my arms are getting strong and I notice lots of strength in there, there is still a drop of saggy skin on my lower arms that drives me crazy.

In fact, while exercising in the group fitness room and doing Turbo kick, I am throwing these punches around and all I notice is the giggle of the lower arm that won’t go away. And at this point, for whatever reason it just pisses me off. It pisses me off that I’ve worked this hard and I will never really be able to get it all right.

And then something else happens. That ugly word we call jealousy. Yup, it starts to creep into my head. It is not fair to compare any part of yourself to anyone else. You really are only doing yourself a huge injustice, I know this. But how do you turn off a crazy overactive brain? How do you breach the fine line between admiration and jealousy? It’s a very slippery slope. I wish it wasn’t. I wish I could just admire someone and be inspired and not have the insecurities creep in that lead to jealousy. For the most part I have been able to maintain things in positive land. Not let it go there but then on days when your body chemistry is off or you’re feeling a little down about life it’s easy for your brain to go to that land.

Last night I was thinking about all the young women who frequent the classes at my gym, the trainers included. And I had a thought which was pure weakness driven. “It’s not fair. They have never known what it’s like to struggle. They have perfect bodies and don’t have to worry about drooping skin as a result of the damage they’ve done to their bodies. It’s not fair that I can work every bit as hard as most of them and never get the same result.”

I was mad. I was sad. If you’ve never actually had to struggle with weight than there really is no way to really understand. Both the trainers leading the classes last night are wonderful and I love them to death but they are perfect. I am beyond certain that there is something about themselves that they don’t love because they are women after all, but they have no drooping skin. They have flat stomachs; they have shapely legs that don’t have giggly bits hanging out from under shorts so that they can actually wear little shorts. You will NEVER catch me in a pair of spandex shorts at the gym. I have inner thigh skin/fat giggle that would leave me insecure in a ridiculous way. I don’t wish them my pain, I don’t. But I also think life is such a bitch that I was given this life where I can have every bit as much passion or drive and work my butt off and still come up short.

I found myself envious of what it must be like to have lived a life where perhaps you weren’t always so interested in health and fitness but you also didn’t do any damage to your body that you can’t undo. The trainers are one thing but then there is a certain group of gym girls who are actually training to do “shows” and on the weekends on occasion they are in the group fitness room practicing their poses in bikinis and I want to hurl. Not because they don’t look good. They look really good, but I want to hurl because it makes me so sad. I cannot ever be that. Nothing on me will ever be tight and firm. Perhaps that is also a sign of my age. These girls I’m talking about have got to be in their early twenties. I am 34 now so perhaps my body wouldn’t be that anyway.

I’m just having a struggle jealous moment. An epic fail if you will. I know I should be much more grateful for the reality that I could lose 80 plus pounds and have my body look as good as it does. I am lucky I can feel comfortable enough wearing sleeveless tops and not feel too self-conscious about my arms. More importantly I am grateful for all that my body is actually capable of. The physical demands that I put on it and it allows me to do. I do not take that for granted.

It’s just hard that some people are blessed in the areas you want to be blessed in. I know that ultimately means they are probably not as lucky in other areas as no one is perfect. The grass is always greener on the other side. I am not perfect. I struggle. I have days where I fight very hard with my inner demons. Let’s face it; I would never end up 220 pounds if I didn’t have very profound inner demons that influence my life. I’m working on them. I am always working on them actually. In the end I won’t let this be a road block. I will pick myself up and keep going because that’s just what I do.