Since Zach was born on April 4, I’ve lost 36 pounds. That’s a lot! I know this! But I’ve still been so frustrated with how slow my progress has been, getting back to my Old Self.
I gained a lot of weight during my pregnancy with him. The most I’ve ever weighed! And it was all my fault. I ate a lot of pie last February and March. It was really awesome, I won’t lie. I was exhausted and huge and working and taking care of two kids (one of them was in a walking boot with a broken foot) and Dan was traveling a lot and I have a weird relationship with food where I reward myself with treats for surviving the days. All of that plus just normal pregnancy weight gain led to… this.
in labor, waiting for my mom to arrive so I could go NOT BE PREGNANT ANYMORE.
Zach was born and almost immediately, I felt better (aside from my emergency room visit the night we got home with him). I felt so much better that when he was about 3 weeks old, I started walking in the hopes that soon, I could start running again and start losing some weight. Then I gave myself a stress fracture and was in a boot all summer. So: FAIL. Between being sidelined with that injury, being exhausted from having a newborn, breastfeeding and not wanting to diet because it would kill my milk supply… weight-loss nearly stopped for a while. And that was frustrating. Some tears maybe were shed a few times while getting dressed and possibly while wearing a bathing suit on vacation. SIGH.
I’ve been boot-free since early August, and I’d love to say that I’ve been exercising 3 days a week ever since. HAAAAAAA NO. I did start walking again and doing yoga and some other random workouts. But after a few weeks of having the boot off, my foot started aching again so I panicked and did nothing for about 3 weeks. Except for eat. I was able to fit in a few haphazard workouts for a while, usually during my days where the kids are at daycare and I was “working”. But work has been getting busy (yay!) so I feel stressed using that time for exercise because a 20-30 minute workout also means a shower, so it’s easily an hour or more out of my precious alone time. Zach isn’t sleeping super-consistently yet, so waking early to workout is just NOT happening right now. And evenings are INSANE. The hours between 5-8pm are a blur of dinner prep, shoving food in front of everyone, cleaning up dinner, packing lunches, helping Maggie with her homework, baths, putting the kids to bed… by the time all of that is done, I just want to stare at the tv for an hour before faceplanting into bed.
I realize this problem is not a unique one. Finding time/motivation/energy for exercise is a challenge for all of us! So I’m trying to suck it up and figure out a plan. We have all the workout options I could want in the basement- a treadmill, an exercise bike, and a Bowflex! The issue is for me is that there are always 900 other things that distract me from going down there and DOING IT. Laundry! Cleaning up! Making dinner! Watching the kids! It may come to me just locking myself in the basement and putting in my headphones and letting the mayhem commence upstairs for Dan to deal with. heh. I had a cold last week so I took a break from thinking about it, but it’s time. IT’S TIME.
For now, until the clock magically gives me an extra few hours every day, I’m adjusting some things in my diet to see if that helps. The last two weeks have been motivating and my (fat) pants are sloooowly starting to feel a little big on me. So! Progress!
Anyway. I don’t really have a point to this whole thing, other than to just get it out there. I’ve been feeling Not Myself for almost 18 months. I was pregnant, had a miscarriage, got pregnant again, hurt my foot… for a while, I was actually ANGRY at my body. WHY DID IT HATE ME SO MUCH? But then I look at Zach and I’m like YAY, LOOK WHAT MY BODY DID! Such a weird dichotomy of thinking, right? I’m tired of feeling out of control with things, tired of seeing pictures of myself and wincing because… wow, that does NOT look like how I feel. There have been some dark thoughts and not good weeks for me over the last 7 months. Times when I felt guilty about ordering dessert or eating things in public because I could feel (imaginary) stares from strangers who were OBVIOUSLY thinking that lady does NOT need that pasta/donut/cake/ice cream with her kid, look how FAT SHE IS. And that thinking is horrifying and dangerous and ugh. So unhealthy. I hated my brain for a while. I also hated my new double chin.
Like I said, I HAVE lost 36 pounds so things are headed in the right direction. But I still have about 20 to go to be where I know I’m more comfortable in my own skin and confident and not feeling like I have to hide my backfat so much. (UGH. BACKFAT.) I’m not expecting to have my 20s body again, ever. I’m almost 35! I am trying to be realistic! And I know I have a LOT of work to do in order to get my body in shape again. I want to run. I miss it. I want to feel strong and have muscles and not feel weak and worn out and tired. I want to love my body for what it is- not perfect, but beautiful and strong and amazing for creating three babies and not something I feel embarrassed about.
Maybe I’ll fit in two workouts this week, in between diaper changing and work and errands and appointments and sleep.
Can someone send me a wife? That would help!