I’m so angry I could cry.
I just finished a 6-week nutrition challenge. In that time, I worked by butt off with eating things that either had eyes or grew from the ground (think super clean, whole foods). I drank a gallon of water daily. I tracked everything I ate and hit my macros within a few percentage points every day. I stayed under my calorie limit.
The first week, I lost 6 pounds. The second week, I lost just over a pound. Somewhere in the next week I lost my final pound. I stayed at 242 for the rest of the challenge, not once breaking that agonizing number.
I was frustrated, for certain, but I remained hopeful. I tried to tell myself as the weeks went on that if I averaged the amount of weight lost over the number of weeks I was still at a decent pace. I worked out five days a week and always did my best at the gym. Then the end of the six weeks came, and I jumped up 4 pounds. I ended the challenge, with all that hard work and effort, at a whopping 2.5 weight loss.
What this means, is that over the course of a year, I have lost a total of 2.5 pounds.
Let that sink in. One whole year gone by, and no matter what I have done, no matter what diet or exercise program I have tried, I am stuck. I still wear the same clothes. I haven’t had that bliss-filled moment where the next pant size down slips on easily. I feel like I am trapped in a body that just won’t give and it is heartbreaking.
I was handling this all a bit better before I read about the girl who was in the same challenge I was, who did the exact same program I did, and she lost 10 pounds. She weighs more than 100 pounds less than I do and she shed 10 pounds off an already slight frame. When I read that, the hope I had for my physical future evaporated. How can I do the same thing someone else does and see such a small, insignificant difference? What is wrong with me?
Well, clearly something is wrong. This is not normal. This defies physics. I called a dear friend to breakdown. Why is this so hard? Why does nothing work for me?
She reminded me that the naturopath I am seeing is helping me figure all this out. She reminded me that I have to find what works for me, and that isn’t going to look like what works for everyone else. Indeed, there is something wrong with me. But that doesn’t mean there isn’t a solution. I just have to stay the course and keep the hope alive.
With a crushing day beneath my belt both at work and in my personal battle of the bulge, I wanted to go home and sulk. I wanted to skip my workout. Frankly, I wanted to wallow.
Instead, I pushed myself. I thought about all the compliments I’ve gotten lately about how I look trimmer. I thought about the strength I’ve gained at the gym. I thought about how I sleep better, feel more rested, and have more energy. It occurred to me that while the scale is the devil and it will probably be a long, long, time before I see the results I want, I am reaping benefits in other areas.
I got over myself enough to go to the gym. I mean, I got there a half an hour early because I knew if I didn’t strike while I was feeling strong enough to handle it, I would eventually cave and stay home…but I went. Instead of defeat, I survived another one of Mikey’s brutal workouts. I was literally peeling myself off the gym floor in between sessions because it was hard and I was in it to win it.
Listen, I had a few tough moments. I will have many more, I’m sure. This game is not easy. This journey is tough as hell. It requires a thousand times more mental endurance than physical stamina. My goal right now is just to get my body to the point where I can have reconstruction and close the cancer door for good. I have 70 pounds to go. At this pace, I have no idea when that will happen, but hopefully my medical team and I will get it figured out soon.
Until then, I’ll be in the gym. I’ll be eating the good foods. I will be following the advice of people who know best. I will also sturdy myself against the doubt and fear and sadness in my heart and mind. I will be gracious. I will give myself loving patience and I will give those demons that arise hell. I won’t quit. This is just too damn important to give myself anything less.
Give ‘Em All Hell