Weight Loss Wednesday-The Post Where I Get Candid...

As I'm sure you can tell from the title, Weight Loss Wednesdays are back!

Here's the deal, the nitty gritty, the down low, the truth.

Weight Loss Wednesdays had been a thing of the past. 

I started gaining weight and instead of getting my tush back on the band wagon, I completely threw weight loss to the wind.

And then I gained, and gained, and gained until my fat clothes didn't fit anymore. 

I gained until I had to rock back and forth to get off the couch.

I gained until my older brother looked at me and said "why do you take up so much space? Didn't you have surgery for that?" 

I gained until my knees cracked every step that I walked up and down the stairs at work. 

I gained until I hated the sight of myself in the mirror. 

I didn't realize how much I had gained until I stepped on the scale at my parents house. My scale battery died and I never got around to replacing it. 

I was 45 pounds heavier than my heaviest. If you remember the past posts you can do the math, but I'm not ready to share that number yet. 

I was trying to fall asleep when I tripped over one of my kids toys and I swear it almost killed me! I started thinking about my babies. 

The best sound in the world I hear is when they run up to me when I return home and they squeal "You came back! I'm so glad you came back!"

My response is "Of course I came back, I'll always come back for you!"

That night I realized that if I don't stop on the path that I am on, there will come a day when I will lose my life, and my babies will be waiting for me to come back and I simply won't. I will break that promise to them. It scared me. 

My older brother is on dialysis. It looks miserable. He looks miserable. I was scrolling through facebook the other day and my friends husband is also on dialysis. She has been trained to hook him up to the machine. It dawned on me that if I don't change, that is right where I'm headed. The misery of dialysis, the stress of whether or not I will be put on the kidney list to have my life saved through a transplant. 

I don't want that for my babies. I don't want that for my husband. I don't want that for me. 

So I decided to get my act together. I have started Take Shape For Life and have an amazingly supportive health coach. If you want her info, I will gladly share it. I am about halfway through my first week and it has been hard. 

I'm a junk food junkie. Hangry doesn't even begin to describe it. 

But then...something clicks over. The cravings aren't as bad. They are still there, but bearable, most of the time. The headache goes away and the energy starts to come. 

I'm no where near being perfect on the plan. I have slipped up a few times due to stress or being ill prepared for work. But I'm developing coping strategies. I will share those next week as I apply them more. 

Today we celebrated my dear friends' birthday. I had a cheat meal. It was delicious. And I REFUSED to feel guilty for it. Why? Because I had a plan. I would enjoy my meal and then I'd work out afterwards to earn it. This isn't something I will do everyday, I'd rather work out to lose the weight instead of make up for cheating. But I knew that if I felt guilty I'd end up right at the beginning again. I'd think "Well, I already blew it for the night...somebody pass me the chips!" But I didn't. 

I went home and was greeted by my sweet little man. You know what he said to me? I bet you can guess. He said, "Mommy I'm so glad you can back for me!" He then threw his arms around my neck and gave me a bear hug. I spent some time loving on him and enjoying his company and then I popped in one of my Leslie Sansone Walk Away the Pounds DVDs. Can I just say I love her? When I first dropped a ton of weight after my mission, I would do her DVD's until I lost enough weight where it didn't hurt anymore. And then I started running and I LOVED it. Then I hurt my knee. That's a story for another day.

While doing the workout, as soon as I hit mile 1, I cried. 

I cried because I was so happy that I followed through with my plan. 

I cried because it hurt. Moving that much weight around is physically painful. Don't believe me, strap on 200 pounds of flour and go for a walk. 

I cried because I missed running, I missed the runners high, I still do. 

I cried because I was proud.

I cried because I have treated my body so badly. 

I also cried at miles 2 and 3. 

I cried because I did it, at my weight I walked 3 miles. 

There were several times that I wanted to give up, but there were a few things that kept me going. 

My favorite playlist "kick assphalt" that I put together years ago, kept me going. 

My body allowed me to keep going because I promised that if it would carry me through this work out, I would take better care of it. 

When I really wanted to quit, I would close my eyes and picture myself fit crossing the finish line of my first marathon, my babies running up to me cheering me on saying "You came back!" 

And ultimately I know it was Heavenly Father who kept me going. 

I know that I have a LONG road ahead of me. I know with God anything is possible and I know that just like one of my songs on my playlist it's one step at a time. 

It's gonna happen when it's supposed to happen.

One step at a time. 

I will make mistakes, I will mess up, I will fall. 

But I know that I can get back up. I just did. 

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