The Slap of Reality

I mean, I knew I'd gained some weight in the last year.  I could feel it.  And I knew I'd lost my mojo when it comes to working out and living healthy.

But I was not prepared for what hit me tonight.

I went shopping for an Easter dress.  I went to four different stores.  The story isn't about the fact that spring time dresses this year are at an all time low point in fashion.  The story is that everything I tried on had to be a size 14.

I have not been this size since junior year in college.
I swore I would never return to this size.

HOW DID I NOT SEE THESE POUNDS BEFORE TONIGHT?!

I felt terrible.  Nothing looked or felt cute.  I felt like a marshmallow trying to squeeze into a straw.  My self confidence hit an all time low.

And although I've already begun dieting (well, healthy eating) and better exercise habits (and even seen some positive changes on the scale), I was shocked.  I have had enough.  I cannot live like this any longer -- with no energy, no drive for life, no confidence, and nearly no clothes that fit.  If I weren't already on a new way of living, I would have changed tonight.  But tonight only cemented in my brain that I can no longer make excuses and "let it slide."

It's do or die time.
Because if I keep going down that path of no sensible living, it could very well kill me.

The Starting Line

Good grief.  How far down this black hole of increased pounds (and we're not talking muscle here -- we're talking good ol' fluff) and decreased self-confidence am I going to allow myself to fall??  How much further am I going to go before I throw my hands up in defiance and begin to rebel??

I pray that I am at that point.  I am officially at the heaviest weight I've been in 5 years.  And I hate it.  I feel awkward, unattractive, miserable, not confident, somewhat depressed, "less than," and bloated.

I have most definitely lost my "workout groove."  I used to love to workout, and was able to challenge myself to the point where I would be sore the following day.  Now?  My workouts are sporadic and although I am breathless and sweaty, I am not sore.  Not to mention I know that I am choosing the easier modifications and I know that I am cutting my workouts entirely too short to do myself any good.

I have also most definitely lost my love of healthy foods, appropriate portions, and smart choices.  My diet is full of rich foods -- read: high in calories, high in carbs, high in sugar.  My portions are out of control.  My addiction to sweets is back with a vengeance. I eat so quickly I barely taste what I'm eating and then am so hungry for taste that I eat more.

I've had the breakdown that usually ushers in change with Daniel.  (Poor guy had to witness my breakdown on the phone and bear with me through it)  I've begun tracking my calories and tracking my weight.  I've switched from my sugary sodas to water 90% of the time.  I'm trying to figure my workouts out...

But this is not enough.  And these images are imprinting the importance of getting myself straightened out NOW:

So.... Tomorrow... It's a new day.  I'm no longer on vacation at my grandparents.  I have no excuses anymore.  I have my lunch pre-cooked and in the fridge.  I have a fancy new water bottle to use (it has a straw!).  There's a Zumba class tomorrow evening at the gym (I go because I have so much fun with it!).  I even have the ingredients for my filling (but light) breakfast.

Tomorrow will be a good day.
I can do this.

Because I can't keep doing what I've been doing -- not a moment longer.