It seems logical that we should all eat right and exercise. We all know this is the way to be healthy. You'd think given this simple knowledge we would all be fit and happy, right? It is simple, but not easy. Food is delicious. Exercise is hard. It seem that the better something tastes the worse it is for you. I find this irony of life to be pretty evil. I have said in the past that my dependence on food for reward, solace, etc. has led to my life-long struggle with my weight. In the past year I have been re-learning how to eat and figuring out how I can fit exercise into my insanely busy daily routine. I have had to decide what is more important to me, that mini high I get from eating something sinfully bad for me or the emotional well being I get from knowing I was strong enough to make the right choice.
I was honestly doing things half-assed for the better part of the past year. I started running, completed 3, 5K races and a half marathon with 12 weeks of training leading up to the half, and was only able to lose 1 pound!!! Why? I was still not paying attention to what I was putting into my body. You don't realize how much you eat until you start tracking it. It also puts it into perspective when you realize how much physical effort you have to put in to burn the calories you just consumed. I used to get a coffee roll from Dunkin Donuts all the time. They are 400 calories. I have to run almost 4 miles to burn those calories. That is close to 40 minutes! Is it worth it?? I don't think so any more. I am making better choices and it is showing in my physical appearance as well as my mental well being.
We embarked on Project 10 8 weeks ago. I weighed myself this morning and have now lost a total of 6.5 pounds. I am below 150 for the first time in 6 years! I did a little Lucky Charms leprechaun dance when i got off of the scale this morning. It was only partly because of the number I saw. The true happiness came from the fact that my hard work and restraint are paying off. I don't deprive myself. I eat ice cream and pasta and other delicious things. I just no longer let the want or perceived need of these things to consume me. I imagine, much like an alcoholic, food will always be my drug of choice. I will fight my internal battle, but I will keep getting back on the horse if I happen to fall. It can be done. You just have to want it. I want it, bad.