So it's happened. That time that comes during my summer break where I start to lose track of my days, and have no idea what day I wake up in. I've only been off work, technically, for two weeks. I didn't finish teaching summer school until June 27th and that time has flown by. Yet here I am, getting up and making plans and realizing I can't do certain things because it's not the day I thought it was.
Today, for example, I got up and decided this afternoon I would run by the bank and stop by the library to get some more books. My lazy butt didn't get up until 11AM, so I need a cup of coffee (or four) before I can get started with anything. Then, I sit down and see on my iPad that today is Saturday. The bank and the library both close at noon.
Sure, I could rush around and make it to both places before they close in 25 minutes... but I'm not going to. Because that's not what I want to do. I don't want to have to rush around to do anything.
I do have to cut down my patio sitting time today to go and do some grocery shopping. We've been home from vacation for two days, so that's just enough time for the kids to clear out the cabinets of all food left in them. So, a restock is in order. Which is good timing for me. After being at home for two days and doing nothing, I'm ready to get out of the house for a while. It doesn't take long before I start getting bored and antsy.
This evening, I'm going to a birthday party. I'm excited about that. Dinner, some dancing, good time with friends. An excuse to put on something other than shorts and a t-shirt, fix my hair, and put on a little make-up. It's just what I need, really.
I've been in somewhat of a funk since the whole I can't get on a roller-coaster because I'm too fat ordeal. I mean, I know I'm a big gal. I know I've got several pounds to lose. I know I don't like the size of clothing that I wear, or how certain outfits make me look. Yet, up until that day, when I looked in the mirror I didn't see a ginormous woman staring back at me. I saw an overweight woman. One that had too much cushion, but could still get around and do everything her kids were doing. One that could still run, climb, get on giant roller-coasters, and walk miles and miles around a theme park without even breaking a sweat.
Yet, one stupid lap belt took all of that away from me.
From that moment, my image has changed quite a bit when I look in the mirror. Now, I see every bulge, every layer of fat, every piece of fabric that holds on to me in a way that is far from flattering. I scold myself for letting myself get this way. I scan through recent pictures of myself, and cringe at what I see. I have hit the "Delete" button for several of those pictures, because I just can't bare to have them out there for the world to see.
It's amazing how one tiny situation can make my whole outlook on myself change.
It takes me back to the days when I was hovering around 300lbs. That was such a long time ago, and a place I swore I'd never get to again. And, I'm not there. Yet. But, if things keep going the way they are... it's a strong possibility. I don't want that to happen. It can't. I won't allow it.
I want that other girl back, the one that ran 3 miles a day, got a taste for shopping in stores that sold "normal sized" clothing. I worked so hard to get myself there... for what? To throw it all away.
I spoke to an old friend, the other night, on Facebook. We haven't seen each other since high school, and we joked around as if it's only been a few weeks that had passed. We were close. Best friends, in fact. Which is why it wasn't difficult for us to speak as if the 14 years apart were nothing. Yet, when a comment was made about how I looked back then, I couldn't help but cringe at the idea of what it would be like if we saw each other again. I am twice the girl I was then. Literally. The pictures I looked at on my friend's profile shows the same person, just a little older. My pictures? The same person, wearing a fat suit.
So, I have an important decision to make.
I can sit here and wallow in my self pity. Beat myself up for letting myself get this way. Stare at myself in the mirror and hope that I can learn to love who I am, and just get over it.
I can do something about it. Again.
I remember the literal blood, sweat, and tears it took for me to rip 80lbs off of myself just a few short years ago. I'm older now, it'll be harder... but there's no reason I can't do it again. I have the willpower. I have the desire. I just need to make it happen. And remember that if I don't hold on to that person, and keep the hard work up... I'll be right back at square one. Again. And again. And again.
I have already made up my mind that the weight has to go. I'm dubbing my little challenge as Operation: Outlaw Run. The name of the roller-coaster I couldn't get on. My short term goal is to lose enough to get on that ride without any problems. My long term goal is to stay that way. Not allowing temptation and laziness to take hold of me, anymore.
I love being active. I love doing stuff I didn't think was possible. It's time to break that girl out of her shell, once again, and beat all the odds.
And that's exactly what I'm going to do.