Getting Started: The Why

I initially started this journey because I was fed up with the excuses. I knew I was stuck and that something needed to change, but I dragged my feet.  I dragged them long and hard.

Why was I holding myself back?  What was I afraid of?  Was I afraid that I would fail?

The truth?   I didn’t realize I was in that bad of shape and hadn’t notice that I had gotten so big.  I thought that I hid my weight well and that the excuse of being a new mom was enough to keep others from noticing.  Boy, oh boy, was I wrong.  I was in flat out denial.

I didn’t think others would take notice because I was only within 12 lbs from my pre-pregnancy weight (not a healthy weight either).  What I didn’t realize was that my body wasn’t carrying the weight so well anymore.  I was lumpy fat, not fit fat.  This reality bomb really hit me after seeing photos from a couple of my friends’ weddings (see below).  Have you ever played the game “one of these things is not like the other”?  I was the “thing”.

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August 2012–218lbs+(we didn’t have a scale)

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October 2012

How had I let myself get to this point?  How did it happen?

Plain and simple, I justified every action with an excuse.  I could eat that extra cookie because I “needed” the calories to produce enough milk to continue nursing my son.  We “needed” to order take out because I was too exhausted to cook a healthy meal.  I couldn’t go to the gym or exercise because I would lose my supply.  The list was endless.  I would continuously set goals in my head and plan on starting next week, but the following week would come and nothing would stick.

Come January 2013, I didn’t even bother with resolutions, I felt defeated and figured I couldn’t stick to anything until I was ready to wean my son.  My number one concern (err excuse) was not being able to nurse him because of a lost supply.  I didn’t want to feel like I was neglecting my son.  Sadly, the truth was that if I had continued down the path I was heading down I would have been neglecting him.

By his first birthday he was well adjusted to walking (he started at 8.5 months) and had nearly mastered running.  I remember chasing him down our hallway (our very short hallway) and getting winded.  It scared me.  I had the realization that some day soon my son would be fast enough to get away from me.  What would I do if I couldn’t catch him?  What if he wriggled away and ran in front of a car because I couldn’t react quickly enough because I was too out of shape?  I needed to do something so that I could commit to being the best mom I could be.

I didn’t want to be the “fat mom” anymore.  I needed to be the healthy mom.  I wanted to be the healthy mom.  I wanted to get my life back.  I also didn’t want to plan on a second child until I had dropped the extra weight.  I’ve read too many articles about how moms who don’t lose the baby weight within the first 6 months were more likely to not lose it and to continue to gain with each subsequent pregnancy.  I could not fathom being any bigger than I already was and I didn’t want to become a statistic.  I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it for myself and for my family.

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