So I weighed today. Mark it down. May 21st, 2019 (happy birthday Nate). One hundred sixty eight pounds. 1-6- 8. Ouch. Like ouch, ouch. I knew it was going to bad, but man that is bad.
I understand weight is just a number. When I was pregnant I topped out at 172. I’m 4lbs away from that and so not pregnant. I know to some people 168 isn’t a lot, but I’m 5’2, so according to Google and the BMI chart I found, I’m not just overweight, I’m obese.
Again, weight it just a number and it should matter more about how you feel. But I feel terrible! I am tried all the time. I have zero motivation to do anything and I am so uncomfortable. I hate figuring out what to wear because my “go to” outfits don’t even fit anymore.
I was taking Mya to the splash park last week and it was hot! So I went to put a pair of shorts on before we left the house. One by one I emptied my dresser drawer and not ONE pair fit. Talk about a wake up call.
Weight gain and eating becomes so mental. Here is what I go through constantly:
Thinking and realizing, holy crap I’ve gained so much weight. This has to change. Eating healthy and going to the gym will start tomorrow. Which seems easy. Obviously I know why I’ve gained so much weight; eating bad and not working out. Actually fixing it is the issue. Every time I try something on that no longer fits it is like a slap in the face to wake up. But again, I do nothing to change it. I just keep eating and keep not working out. I think okay, this is rock bottom, you are buying new clothes because yours don’t fit. WAKE UP! But I don’t. I actually think about food and eating more. It is like the more I realize I am gaining weight the more and worse I eat. Makes total sense I know. To me the concept of losing weight is simple. Move more, eat less. But if it was that simple, I would have done it by now.
When I got to the bottom of my shorts drawer and realized I didn’t have one pair I could wear that was my rock bottom.
I don’t want to be unhappy and think about my weight constantly. I don’t want to literally be uncomfortable in my own skin. I don’t want to constantly tug at my clothes. I don’t want to stress about the thought of getting in a bathing suit. Every year we have an adult weekend with all of our friends at the lake. I should be thinking about how fun it is going to be but I can’t get over the swimming part. What am I going to wear? All I think about is the looks I’m going to get when people see it all out there with how big I have gotten. It is different when you can cover yourself with clothes, but a bathing suit will expose it all! I’ve literally thought about not going so I don’t have to be exposed. Or thinking we could show up later so I miss the swimming part. HELLO Tiff, this is now affecting your life. So here I am, May 21st saying I am going to make a change. I guess in a way me putting this out there is a way to hold myself accountable. So this could, no should, be the start of my weight loss journey.
Stay tuned to see if I fail miserably or if I actually get my shit together.
Oh and can we all give a big fat middle finger to Timehop for all the reminders of when I used to be in good shape?
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