This is a wee bit painful to write.
Because after almost 43 years on this earth, I thought I had solved my issues with food. After losing excess weight a few years ago, and becoming very fitness focused, I thought I was there.
So my excuses…
I got anxiety – crippling anxiety – I stopped eating and felt miserable.
I said at the time – I’d rather be fat and happy (and I still stand by that)
I’ve worked longer hours than ever before.
Time is always an issue…
This list can go on for a while.
The point is, I stopped caring about what went in my mouth and how that made me feel.
On the base of it, I don’t worry about the number on the scale, but I worry about the fact that I can’t pull my own body weight up any more. I am very happy in myself, but I get embarrassed when I tell people I am a shareholder in a Crossfit box, but I have a waistline that says exercise is not my friend.
After a year since anxiety crammed itself into my already full life, I am finally at the point where I am not comfortable with my fitness, which inadvertently relates to my weight.
And it is a long way back down.
Motivation is harder to find as I strike through the peri menopausal years (next excuse); but find it I must.
The point of this post? I am going to lose weight, not for how I look – although I know from the past that will be a look I prefer on me. I ain’t losing weight because society dictates I should – I am exceptionally comfortable in my own skin. I am losing weight because this isn’t healthy and I want to workout without my own personal weighted vest.
Its about health and fitness, not fad diets.
Its about finding a solution, again, that works with both my mental and physical health.
Let the journey begin.