Tag Archives: determination

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NEW DAY 168: Fuckin’ nuts

It’s easy to notice certain behavioral changes during weight loss. At some point in the last 5 months, I started wearing dresses to accentuate curves instead of to disguise my whole body as an amorphous blob (and fooling nobody). I’ve become more comfortable putting my hair up in public and exposing the neck I suddenly have, which sometimes even sports a necklace. I now invite people to walk places with me in the absence of fear I’ll be panting for breath beside them the whole time, mortified. I no longer deflect positive remarks on my progress, and instead fully embraced my brother, along with his beaming exclamation when he saw me on Thanksgiving for the first time since early August. He’d had that look in his eye from the moment he saw me walk in that screamed I noticed!, and he couldn’t wait to tell me with full eye contact before he hugged me: “[Sister]! You’re so little!”

Other changes are harder to catch in action. Paradoxically, the biggest behavioral change I’ve made during my New Days is the one that completely failed to register until just a few hours ago: I’m no longer an emotional eater.

This is beyond monumental. It enters the realm of straining credulity.

Without going into a whole thing, I’ll state simply that the past month or so has been stressful, exciting, anxiety inducing, fun, sad, healing, deeply frustrating, and tiring. In short, it’s been taxing on the more-extreme ends of multiple points of my emotional range. I’ve felt it all. It’s shown up as tension in my arms and shoulders, a shorter fuse, and heightened restlessness, all exacerbated by insufficient sleep rooted in the intensity of how life is right now. How it has not shown up is in destructive behavior.

I cope by using my lunch break for a tour on the walking pad at my desk. I cope by venting my feelings in writing. I cope by commiserating with people in my support network. I cope by singing loudly while taking scalding-hot showers. I cope by running faster, or longer, or both.

I do not cope by consuming unhealthy things. (Anymore.) I don’t even have that impulse. (Anymore.)

When this realization struck me today, I froze in place. It had not occurred to me how much must have changed not only for that fundamental habit to have fallen out of my coping repertoire, but for me to have not even noticed that it had.

As if it’s not the biggest of deals.
As if it’s always been this way.
As if it was just that easy.

It is.
It hasn’t.
It was.

But here I am, reconstructed from the inside out. Because 168 days ago, I made a choice that created a chain reaction of subsequent choices that led to a change in me at the cellular level. In that tentative moment on that June day, without grasping the magnitude of what that one choice was setting in motion, I changed my life.

I am not the sad, broken, grayscale person I was for the first half of 2025. I am the centered, recovering, technicolor person on my way to becoming the happy, integrated, vibrant person I want to be.

Strength is a slow burn. You’re strong when you act on any choice you make, but it’s not until you one day realize how far you’ve come that you understand your strength now is only because of your strength then.

Anyone can make a choice: Stop eating the sugar. Train for the half marathon. Throw your hat in the ring for the opportunity. It’s every choice you make after that first one that will either honor that initial strength or not. That’s how you rebuild. That’s how you renew. That’s how you reclaim.

That’s how “never” becomes “maybe some day”, and “some day” becomes NOW.

Fuckin’ nuts.

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NEW DAY 162: Thankful

Here’s a sentence that February-Me did not think my fingers would be typing in 2025: there are a lot of things to be thankful for this year. When it was my turn to share one of my points of gratitude around the Thanksgiving table this year, the one I went with was, “I am thankful that this year will be ending so much better than it started.”

It’s the healing emotional and psychological wounds from those violent first 3 months. It’s the tangible incoming changes I went after and earned in later parts of the year. It’s the exciting events on the horizon for myself and the people I care about. It’s the ability to believe in more good to come because of the good that is already here. It’s the way it all feels as a composite.

To keep the focus on health and weight loss, I took two grueling walks while staying with my parents for this holiday. The first was around their very hilly neighborhood: a 3-mile circuit I used to power walk in my late 20s that took about an hour, with some amount of difficulty. The last time I attempted it was on day 4 of 75 Hard this past summer. With the extra 48 lbs on my August body, it was a struggle; I truncated the distance to about half the full course and had to take frequent breaks to negotiate some of the most punishing hills, just to get through it a puffy, sweaty, depleted mess.
On Thanksgiving Day, I walked that full circuit without a single stop, including the final 20 minutes when it was lightly snowing. It was challenging and it demanded full cooperation from every muscle below my waist — and as a team, we met that challenge.

The second walk was from their house to the nearby park for a shorter but steeper set of hills. It’s been at least a month since I last trifled with the path that goes through the park, but more than 10 years since I tried to walk to the park from their home, which is also a hilly (and not super pedestrian friendly) route. This one’s total distance is about 2 miles, but takes about as long as the neighborhood one because of the unfavorable footing conditions and sharp inclines.
Today, I not only managed it in less than an hour — also in light snow — but I remained energized throughout the trek, which was not the case 5-6 weeks back when I last trudged that path.

This illustrates my notable progress on its own, but I also have to underscore what a big deal it is to have done so while still being a little cautious while still side-eyeing this bum ankle. Most importantly, though, I wanted to tackle those hills. I wanted to scale those steep grades. I wanted to conquer those paths.

A month ago, my attitude was still tentative, still hesitant, and still unconfident. Not anymore.

AND these exercise breaks were retreats and reward for myself, not annoying interruptions that I resented for cutting into my holiday family time and taking me away from an excuse to over-indulge in poor consumption choices. I looked forward to the walks for my mental recentering and welcomed the accompanying satisfaction and relief that came from completing them, and never thought about food at all.

Add to these little triumphs the experience of the meal itself, and it feels like a work of fiction. I had one normal-sized serving of each of the dishes I wanted rather than mounds of multiple helpings of sinful components at Thanksgiving dinner. When dessert came, I did opt for a little slice of my mom’s famous cheesecake — and I didn’t freak out. I spent zero seconds calculating calories or obsessing over sugar intake. Instead, I got to be present in the holiday moments with my family rather than trapped inside my head while I engaged in some sadistic battle of wits with temptation. And I got to go to bed feeling full, but not stuffed — and not at all deprived.

I had no temptation. I just had dinner.
And then dessert.

And then, no regrets.

Will I lose weight this week? I don’t know.

And for truly the first time EVER when I’ve been in Healthy Self Mode, I truly do not care.

What mattered to me this holiday was being able to enjoy it without the creeping anxiety of being surrounded by “dangerous” options.
Because I’ve spent the past 5 months learning how to trust myself, I got to do that.
And for that, I am deeply thankful.

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NEW DAY 159: Roller coastering

As much as last Sunday was unintentionally awesome, last Wednesday was unintentionally horrendous.

Between manufactured work drama (and the resulting stress), exhaustion from barely sleeping the previous few nights, and life life-ing, the day didn’t really stand much of a chance. Unfortunately, it culminated in an ankle injury when I tried to mitigate all of that by running outside before I was ready. So yeah, it found a way to get worse!

It’s my fault I tweaked my always-ready-to-act-up ankle. Having only myself to blame makes the thing that made it all worse, worse.

I’ll skip the part where I whine for several days about being sidelined and losing the centerpiece of my emotional regulation while my angry ankle threw its tantrum. I made a wise adult decision and gave myself the day off on Thursday to rest, in every sense. It was the best choice I could have made, and I am beyond glad I made it.

The week ended on a decisive upswing, but I had to continue to pause my half marathon training to ensure I wouldn’t aggravate my temperamental joint, which hurt well into the weekend. Today, I finally felt it was strong enough to tolerate an outdoor walk on the hilly trails, and it seems to be holding up well in the aftermath so far — even after walking the long path the fastest I ever have. If I have no protests from it the rest of the day, I’m going to take myself back to the gym tonight. I don’t want to push too hard, but I really don’t want to lose more training days than necessary, either.

I did get some good news today: I won my Kickstarter that ended yesterday, AND the DietBet scrutiny has been lifted!

It doesn’t even stop there for DB, although this next bit of good news is qualified:

This is my current progress for the Transformer that ends on February 10th. Looks pretty great, right? But here’s why it’s qualified:

It’s currently about halfway through round 4, and I’ve lost 20% of my starting weight as of this morning’s DB weigh-out for that Kickstarter. I am nowhere near the risk of losing 12% within a single month, but I’m looking out to that round 6 disqualification figure and seeing the very real possibility of exceeding the 30% drop limit by that point. The math maths.

HOWEVER…

It’s not a foregone conclusion. There are some major holidays coming up between now and then, as well as a 2-week trip I’m taking at the end of the year. There’s not so much a threat to my eating as there is to my normal activity level, but it could be enough to put the brakes on. Plus, this progress will naturally hit the skids at some point. When I start strength training, building muscle will slow the drops on the scale. And just generally speaking, this clip is unsustainable. Or at least, you’d think so — but bodies seem to REALLY hate sugar, and they party like crazy when it’s gone. With very little exercise between my Sunday-to-Sunday weigh-in days, mine still coughed up 4.2 lbs. I’m not saying I wasn’t still making an effort during what felt a bit like a lost week, but it was not the level of intensity I’d planned when it started, and still this big number showed up for me.

Anyway, I’ll be keeping an eye on all of this, of course. It’s a lot to manage, but hey — that’s life life-ing for ya.

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NEW DAY 151: Milestones update

Today was unintentionally awesome.

I had a new DietBet to weigh in for, and a gym session planned for later, so I figured I’d get into my workout clothes and do the weigh-in right before it was time to head out. With my weigh-ins under more scrutiny these days, I wanted to make sure what I was wearing wasn’t too baggy. Since all of my go-to tops are laughably loose these days, I went into my workout shirts drawer and found a top that I remember fitting when I was last around my current weight many moons ago, although it seemed unlikely to fit when I held it up in front of me. I tried it on, and… to my complete and total shock, it not only fit, but it was also roomy! This top is more hanging off me than I am wearing it. I think that has to do with the way my weight loss has been working this time around: my shoulders narrowed at a much greater clip than the rest of my torso, so tops are a bit of a challenge right now. Work-out tops in particular tend to slide off my shoulders and feel flowy around my midsection, while somehow still also kind of fitting in that area. It’s tough to explain, but suffice it to say, nothing really fits at the moment. Anyway, even with that all going on, it was a fabulous surprise to have blazed right through the time when that top would have mostly fit, and right into looseness. I’ll wear it until it, too, becomes an almost-dress. (And good news: my DB weigh-in was accepted. Two more video weigh-ins to go!)

Then, it was off to the gym. Today’s workout in my half marathon training plan was scheduled to be cross-training, so I went to my old friend, the elliptical. I don’t know what had me all fired up, but I was immediately hitting the pace that it usually takes me the first 20-30 minutes to work up to — and I sustained or exceeded it for the entire time. Now, when I say “the entire time”, that wound up being far more than the 45-60 minutes I’d budgeted, because I had one of my classic evil elliptical thoughts within the first 5 minutes. And I fulfilled that evil thought by making today, the day I broke 8 miles.

To add some personal WOW to that, I notched those 8(.02, to be exact) miles in 76 minutes, which is a 9:29 pace. This is a personal best pace, elapsed time, AND distance.

I have never run a 10-minute mile on flat land, let alone under 10 minutes. As I am discovering through my treadmill trainings to work up to half-marathon-level endurance, what happens on the elliptical has virtually no bearing on what happens on an actual surface: the motion is different, the muscle coordination is distinct, and speed does not translate at all. Even with all that being true, it’s a BFD that I did this. That I can do this. Because 5 months ago, I couldn’t even keep the elliptical moving — at any speed — for 5 minutes, let alone 5 miles — or 8. I’m only now working up to sustain a full mile-run in one go on the treadmill. But my elliptical history tells me that when the half marathon is almost upon us 5 months from now, I’ll be ready for it.

The type of run I do on the elliptical may be dissimilar from the type of run I do on the treadmill, but the perseverance, self-coaching, and physical stamina apply across all types of fitness training. The beginning was slow on the elliptical, and I approached it intentionally and methodically, knowing it would take whatever time it would take. The result? I couldn’t hit a full mile for a while, and I unfortunately wasn’t recording these milestones yet — but I got there in a few hard-earned weeks. And then, it wasn’t long until I hit 2.
I hit 3.5 — breaking 3 for the first time — on August 19th, which was 2 months after I started my NEW DAYS.
I broke 4 just 2 weeks later, on September 2nd.
My goal at the time was to break 5 by the end of this year. Instead, I did it on September 19th.
Then I broke 6 later that same week, on the 23rd.
I thought that’d be plenty; I’d proven my point.
But then, on October 28th, I hit 7 — just a little over a month later.
And now, just under 3 weeks beyond that, 8.

Progress has a way of being self-perpetuating and exponential. I had no plan for hitting a certain mileage on the elliptical, and certainly no targeted date for doing it. I let the rhythm carry me, responded to my bursts of energy, and was realistic about checking in with my body and its radical ideas about taking me farther and faster. It hasn’t steered me wrong yet.

While I do have a training plan for running the halfer, I am still being agile and adjusting as necessary. I’ve already ratcheted things up a little here in the first week of training, but not in any kind of unrealistic or unsustainable way. It will still take me a while to be able to run an uninterrupted mile, and the pace will be unimpressive; but I’ll get there.
And then, it won’t be long until I hit 2.
Then 3.
Then 13.1.

I didn’t think I’d be genuinely excited about training for a half marathon, but… I am genuinely excited about training for a half marathon.

I missed the 50-day milestones update yesterday, so I’ll rattle off a few here:

  • Since February 20th, I have lost 80.4 lbs.
  • Since June 18th (the start of NEW DAYS), I have lost 60.8 of those lbs.
  • I’ve gone from being able to run barely 5 minutes, to 76 minutes (on the elliptical).
  • I’ve dropped from a snug 26 pants size, to a loose 18.
  • I’ve gone down 2 underwear sizes and 1 sports bra size.
  • I’ve dropped from a 3X shirt size to — depending on the manufacturer — L or XL.

But the most exciting stat is unquantifiable: I feel better. Actually better. In every way a person can feel any kind of way.

My theme for this chapter of my life is Reclaim. I am nowhere close to being done, but I am so proud of how well I’ve done with honoring that theme without wavering for the past 5 months.

I actually truly believe I can do this. I can see myself crossing the literal half marathon finish line, and the figurative finish line of this mission I have set for myself to reach a healthy size. It’s just… incredible. It’s a feeling I’ve never had before, and it has me absolutely floored. I don’t know what to do with it.

So I’ll just keep going.

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NEW DAY 132: For seven’s sake

I hit 7 miles on the elliptical tonight. 7.18 miles, to be exact — in an hour and ten minutes.

This wasn’t planned until my “what if” voice spoke up somewhere between miles 2 and 3. And then I did it.

My legs are already feeling it, but after a MUCH needed stretch of rest days after 75 Hard, it felt phenomenal to let my body do this.

For those keeping score, 7 miles is more than half the distance of a 13.1-mile half marathon. So.

I guess this is happening…!

AAAAAAAAAAH, WHAT?!

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NEW DAY 129: 75-Hardened

I am officially 75 Hard verified.
🎈I did it!🎈

75 Hard truly lives up to its classification as a challenge: it is challenging. For me, it was not consistently so for the duration, but it had some distinct hallmarks of difficulty that really put me through my paces. The general breakdown was:

First third (days 1-25): Acclimation blossoming into excitement
The early days of adjustment were a little tricky. Day 4, I remember, was my hardest day. I barely slept the night before on top of trying to adapt to the rigor of twice-daily workouts while still living in an extra-obese body. After I made it through that day, I felt unstoppable. The remainder of this third after that was actually fun for me; I looked forward to both of my workouts each day, put tons of thought and care into my meal planning, and found pleasure in reconnecting with my Kindle even though what I was reading wasn’t particularly inspiring. I felt motivated and full of energy. I even remarked to my co-participant friend that I was glad we still had 50 days to go, because the normal 30-day length of most challenges seemed insufficient for experiencing any meaningful changes on this challenge. This was the honeymoon phase for sure, and in retrospect, it’s pretty great that it went on for a full third of the 75-day runtime.

Second third (days 26-50): Excitement converting into routine
As the novelty wore off, building my days around the essential aspects of 75 Hard became second nature to me. The luster of “OMG, I’m doing a beastly job of owning this thing like a badass!” gave way to more of an automatic process with no fanfare. I still embraced checking off my daily to-dos, but with a little less enthusiasm. In terms of the unexpected, this was the hardest part of the challenge for me: I got sick for a seemingly interminable duration (actual time: 14 human days) and felt completely drained from the resulting lack of sleep. However, this was also my most productive and milestone-laden third: I broke 5 miles on the elliptical for the first time in 7 years, and even hit a new personal best record of 6 miles while nearing the end of my sickness. It’s perhaps no wonder that the final third was so energy sapping.

Third third (days 51-75): Routine devolving into slog
It wasn’t a daily internal struggle to force myself into action, but I rarely welcomed workout #2 and found it harder to get energized for those early-morning outdoor workouts in the dark (and increasing cold) on my commuting days. I loved the way being 100% sugar free felt throughout the challenge, but the work required to keep it out of my way by some incidental contact was tiresome, and I resented how difficult it was (and the fact that it shouldn’t be — sardonic thanks to the SAD). As strongly as I believed 30 days wasn’t enough in the beginning, I believed 75 was pushing towards the “too long” side of things by this stage.

In terms of the 75 Hard components, my takeaways go a little something like this:

READING
This was my least-favorite part for the majority of the earlier days of 75 Hard. The problem was that I used the reading requirement as a way to force myself to read things I “should” rather than things I was truly interested in. I finally started reading what was truly of interest in the waning days of the second third, and it (unsurprisingly) made all the difference. My obvious advise to someone considering doing 75 Hard? Pick books you really want to read.

WATER
From day 1, this was the easiest part of my challenge. I’m a freak of nature who has been guzzling water at a high quantity for more than 20 years, so incorporating this aspect required zero extra effort from me; getting a gallon’s worth every day was already part of my life. I know what an advantage that is, because this is the part of 75 Hard that I’ve heard the most people complain about. It was certainly nice to have a piece of this be easy! If I had to give any advice to someone trying to adapt to consuming a gallon of water each day, I’d say try to get the first 25% out of the way before you even have breakfast — or at least before you finish breakfast. (I say 25% because I drink 4 32-oz bottles of water each day, which equals exactly one gallon; your mileage and calculations may vary depending on the size of your receptacle.) You’re dehydrated when you wake up, anyway; this will do you the favor not only of rehydrating yourself, but also of curbing your hunger early on and setting the tone for the rest of the day. Plus, it makes for lighter lifting on the water front as your day goes on. Oh, and get a bottle with a straw. Lack of straw makes life harder.

SELFIES
The dreaded confrontation of your seemingly changeless physical appearance. I didn’t love doing this, but I got used to it — and learned not to look at the pic again once it was safely saved. My guidance about this is to do it exactly this way. Also, wear workout clothes in each photo so it’s easier to see the body beneath them; wearing street clothes makes you look different every day as it is, and those clothes hang on you differently depending on cut, style, etc. Athletic clothes are form fitting, so when you actually do finally go back and review your progress photos, you will have an easier time seeing the changes. The one thing I wish I’d done that I didn’t was take pictures in profile as well as straight on, so I’d add that to my recommendations for this aspect.

FOOD
This is the element of 75 Hard that is customizable: you choose your meal plan at the beginning and never stray from it. I chose to consume no added sugar. I had been doing this inconsistently in the days leading up to my early-June reawakening to physical self-care, but got away from it during my 2-week vacation at the end of July and wanted to firmly commit to it. It was tough chiefly in terms of logistics, as I’ve already lamented plenty of times. I feel GREAT not having that toxic chemical in my body: I have no wild energy spikes and crashes, my teeth never feel filmy, everything has a greater depth of taste, I am more in control of my emotions (which are more naturally regulated without that grainy white poisin coursing through my veins), and my skin looks and feels amazing. I would sincerely love to be sugar free indefinitely; I’ll continue to avoid it as much as possible. To anyone considering starting 75 Hard, I’d encourage you to follow a diet that you’ve always wanted to try — but that only has one element to it: No carbs. No eating after 7 PM. 100 grams of protein a day. No added sugar. I would strongly discourage trying something like Whole 30 for 75 days; it’s both far too long for that madness, and far too many dietary requirements to manage, which is the last thing you’re gonna feel like doing when you’re already juggling multiple components of 75 Hard.

WORKOUTS
There’s not much more I would say here that I didn’t mention above. Keeping variety in my exercise made it sustainable and predominantly enjoyable throughout my experience. It’s exactly what I would advise for anyone doing 75 Hard. That also forced me to push myself past my comfort zone and try out different exercises. There were still plenty of days when I really had to harangue myself into doing my workout at least once — and I mean, I really didn’t have the drive to do it some days — but I did it. It’s well worth adding that I always felt good after every working, not least of all those I was resistant to doing in the first place. My body absolutely needed a rest by the end, and I felt that all over, but I never gave in to that feeling. Sticking to the twice-daily workouts is the proudest part of my success on this challenge for me.

MY TOOLS FOR SUCCESS

  • Daily checklist. At the very beginning of the challenge, I used a blank 2-page spread in an old date book to create a task tracker for each day of 75 Hard. This was an instant staple of my daily routine, ensuring that I never missed completing any of my daily tasks. There are tons of templates online, but I enjoyed making and using my own.
  • Accountability. I started the challenge with another person, and also made it known to people I see/spend time with often that I was doing this. That made it easier to stick to my routine, especially my meal plan.
  • “No excuses” mentality. I made a commitment to do this challenge, and to finish it. I entered it willingly and with full knowledge that it would require a lot of time and a lot of planning. There was no reason I couldn’t hack it; I am responsible for myself, and no one else depends on me. (People with family members who rely on them or seriously overfilled dance cards, I don’t know how you manage to do 75 Hard. Truly.) With intentionality and organization, there was no problem that a little organization couldn’t solve. That doesn’t mean it was easy, but my zero-tolerance policy on copping out was iron clad from the beginning. I whined sometimes, but I never sought a way off the hook.
  • Insisting on fun. Sure, it’s a challenge, but that doesn’t mean fun is off the table! In fact, amusement becomes all the more important when you are pushing yourself to do hard things. When the grind got stale, I did what I could to infuse novelty. Finding new places to do the same outdoor workout, trying new types of exercises, listening to new playlists — the experimentation was all worthwhile, and ultimately necessary.

You may be wondering about my actual results from 75 Hard. I was really eager to see them myself! So, without further ado…

THE STATS
Workouts: 150 (4 rainy)
Progress pics: 75
Gallons of water: 85+
Days sick: 14
MPH increased, treadmill walking pace: .5 mile (from 2.6 to 3.1 mph)
Minutes on elliptical without stopping: doubled from 30 to 60
Books read: 7.5
Rest days: 0
Alcohol consumed: 0
Added sugar consumed: 0
DietBets won: 6 kickstarters and 2 rounds of a transformer
Weight lost: 38.8 pounds

THE OVERALL/FINAL THOUGHTS
I’m not going to say that I can’t believe I did it. I can believe it, and I knew I would. It was hard and I did it anyway. It got harder and I toughed it out. That feels flippin’ great.

Doing this did teach me a lot, though, and not just about “mental toughness”.
The rigidity of the challenge’s parameters forced me to be flexible when unforeseen events disrupted my plans: I learned to tap into my patience when that happened.
The inevitability of discoverability of my doing this because of my crazy schedule and highly conspicuous nutritional needs necessitated that I share my endeavor with those around me: I learned to show a little vulnerability by allowing people in on this adventure, and also learned that this is a form of support that ended up benefiting me.
Working out so much doubled my daily opportunity for stress regulation AND for the flow state that comes from that mental clarity: I learned cleaner ways of problem solving, and also learned that this is a conduit of creativity for me.
Eliminating sugar got me hyper-focused on diet and nourishment: I learned a ton of scientific and historical information that made me a better-informed consumer and minder of my own health.
The list could go on.

And stats-wise? Ohhhhh, yeah — I’m very pleased with my showing. I had hoped to hit a nice round 40 pounds lost, but 38.8 is nothing to sneeze at. Being clean of sugar feels outstanding, as does having read so many books and completing 150 (!) workouts. What feels best, though, is seeing the difference on the face of Day 13 Me and Day 62 Me. Yes, there’s a lot that’s noteworthy in the comparison between my progress pics from day 1 vs day 75, but the stark contrast and the unexpectedness of seeing it for the first time when I happened to look at 13/62 side by side while the challenge was still on, was a key moment of 75 Hard for me — and, truthfully, of my health journey overall. I hope that as my hard work continues, I will continue to see a discernible shift in my natural expression that indicates a positive adjustment in my mental health. That’s the real prize in all of this, and the one I’m most eager to wrap my arms around.

So, I can now say for the rest of my days that I am a 75 Hard finisher. No technicalities. No exceptions. No loopholes. No ifs, ands, or buts. Just earned bragging rights for life. I almost typed “And that’s enough — no need to do it again!” Then I remembered I’m half cracked, and I should never say never.

Because another thing I never thought I’d say is, “and now, I turn my attention to training for a half-marathon!” But here I am. Saying that.

But first: rest.

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NEW DAY 125: Body armor

We have this idea that armor makes you stronger. It means you’re constantly ready for battle, and you sure don’t intend to lose. Suiting up with impenetrable metals to block attacks from deadly weapons sure does sound like a power move.

Or does it?

I’m not so sure.

True toughness requires vulnerability. True strength means not yielding to and masking your weaknesses. True power demands the risk of losing it.

Loading up with body armor isn’t a show of force. It’s a projection of fear. I know because I’ve done it all my life: I’ve worn my extra weight like a protective layer to prevent anyone from getting close enough to hurt me.

The problem with this approach — and the inherent irony in it — is that being heavy does precisely nothing to shield anyone from hurt. It only invites a different kind of externally inflicted pain, and the internally inflicted kind, too.

Loneliness.
Conspicuousness.
Mockery.
Rejection.
Othering.
Embarrassment.
Ostracization.
Discomfort.
Shame.
Isolation.
Regret.
Self-disgust.

That’s great insight to have in retrospect. Cruelly, having no consciousness of it until it’s damn near too late is perhaps the most painful consequence imaginable.

Now that I’m in the process of removing a lifetime of body armor, exposing myself to the potential for the type of pain I’ve hidden myself from since before I was old enough to recognize what I was doing feels like a scary move. But what is it they say about true courage? It’s feeling the fear and doing it anyway. Not just to prove your dominion over fear — but to prove something even deeper, even bigger, and even more meaningful to yourself.

I’m discovering a whole other person beneath the physical, emotional, and psychological layers through my weight loss mission. This is a veritable existential excavation that was not the intended goal of prioritizing my health, but it’s by far the most important one. I’m giving myself something no one else can give me: another chance at living the life I want, the way I want, as the person I want to be.

True fortitude, it turns out, is learning to live without the armor. It in itself is hard work that not everyone is cut out to handle without some grit.

I’m learning this lesson more profoundly every day — one pound at a time.

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NEW DAY 122: Where it’s due

A funny thing happens when you start saying yes to things. You become your own best friend.

Going straight to “yes” is not my factory setting. I overthink and overanticipate everything. It makes me an excellent planner, a cool-headed navigator of emergencies, and a strong leader. In equal measure, it also makes me an inadvertent self-saboteur of my own enjoyment. I not only look before I leap; I look towards the landing zone the whole way down, so much that I miss the full experience and thrill of the leap itself.

Or at least, I was that type of person.

My true nature isn’t suddenly erased and replaced, of course. I will still instinctively mentally map out every possible outcome in the name of contingency preparation for even seemingly inconsequential things, 90% of the time.1 The difference is that I now know that even if consequences other than the most-ideal ones happen as a result of my decision, it’s probably worth that bit of messiness for the trade-off of feeling enjoyment during the leap. Why should I turn everything into stakes-based choices full of weighted consequences? If it sounds good, why not jus say yes and trust myself to figure out how to go from there no matter what? Nothing is guaranteed; all my scenario planning is only a best guess, anyway. It makes more sense to believe that it — whatever it is — will work out as it’s meant to regardless of my decision, and know that I am capable of managing that — whatever that is — when the time comes.

This was not a choice I actively reflected on and then made, but rather my analysis of how my mindset shifted and my lived aftermath in the time since. I can honestly say that my life has improved as a result of it. I wasn’t consciously aware that I needed this change, but circumstances conspired that pushed me into it, and I’ve never looked back. I talked about it in elusive terms here and here, but as I’m feeling kind of wistful today, I’m going to expound just a little on some of those pieces now.

While I was aggressively job hunting this summer, I got to the final interview stage with what seemed like a good prospect. Unfortunately, that stage was a rather ludicrous task-based presentation I needed to prepare and then deliver to a 7-person panel before a Q&A. Concurrently, I was taking inventory of my relationships and re-evaluating their places in my life respective to the effort it required to maintain them. This was not unrelated to how people showed up (or not) for me when I was going through a very difficult time that had begun in February and from which I was still very much reeling. On top of this, I was plagued with self-doubt born of that struggle, and of my lifelong subpar but worsening physical health (and appearance) at a time when I desperately needed confidence to surmount the various hurdles on my path to a safe landing.

Enter: the external forces.

I found a professional support group of people who saw through my shaky veneer, to my true self. They supported me, they reminded me who I am, and they commiserated with me — but more importantly, they did so without coddling me and letting me avoid doing the work. They pushed me to tap into my strength, which wasn’t as inaccessible as I had made myself believe. Being a part of that community helped me rediscover my brand of personal inner magic that I needed not only to get through that season, but also to present to outside entities that needed to see it in order to find me an appealing candidate.

When I first started my tentative return to the gym, I was unsure of my ability, weak on my commitment, and hesitant to push myself in the way I needed to. Early on, I got an injury that worsened when it got infected, and the necessary pause from high-intensity workouts forced me back into my head when I had finally gotten back into my body. Knowing the risks that this presented, I took control by returning to playing instruments and starting to venture back into unstructured creative writing again. It kept things under control when my physical outlet was temporarily unavailable.

I gradually started getting out of the house more. I intentionally spent productive time in cafes on weekdays with a then-acquaintance who has a wfh job, who has become an actual friend as a result. We helped each other not only stay focused during those sessions, but we also encouraged and supported each other as we both grappled with getting through our respective tough situations.

There were also plenty of constants who were by my side throughout that wobbly chapter of my life. They checked on me, they lovingly imposed kind gestures on me, they found ways to give me space AND make sure I knew they were in my corner. I would be remiss to not mention that. I am, and have always been, as people-rich as it gets.

I finally found an insightful, competent therapist with true professionalism but also an actual personality, whose care and commitment I have never questioned. Working with her and being able to tell her things I have not talked about with anyone else has been a huge relief, not to mention a huge help in keeping a clear head. It’s the first positive experience I have had with therapy after several attempts over the years, and it came along at exactly the right time.

And finally… the doorstep deliveries. Not literal ones. Ones that showed up on my phone. In the form of completely unexpected and out-of-the-blue texts. Which were total context shifts from platonic to very much NOT that. From two different guys. Within the same week. The, um, charge of that got me going — interpret that however you want and you won’t be wrong — and gave me good distractions (enjoy the leap!), made me feel desirable when on my own I was feeling the opposite, and provided enough of an energy boost to kick my workouts into high gear. I almost don’t want to give this kind of credit here, but keeping it 100, it’s correctly placed. My motivation skyrocketed at the moment that turned out to be the most essential. Doorstep deliveries set the energy bar , which became the pivot point that has originated my inarguably successful recommitment to my health for the second half of this godawful year — and let’s just say the porch light is still on.

That all being said, the biggest share of the credit ultimately belongs to… me.

Saying that is not selfish. It’s not even bragging. It’s just true.

The universe could have lined up this same set of circumstances for anyone, and they might have done different things with them — or they might have done nothing at all with them.

I said yes.2

At every turn, I chose myself. I chose my actions and I enacted my decisions. I stayed on my own side. I respected my needs and what would give me something positive in the moment, promising myself to capitalize on it and bank on a high-yield ROI. Was it perfect? Of course not. Was it without hiccups, bumps in the road, weirdness, or twists and turns that produced entirely new challenges of different proportions? I mean, obviously not; that’s way too specific a list for the answer to this (clearly rhetorical question) to be anything but no. But the point is, I saw things clearly and for what they were, and did not let any undesirable potential or real outcomes deter me from my priorities. When I got stuck in my head, I knew how to get myself out safely. When I felt apprehension, I believed in my abilities to handle it and coached myself through it. When I caught myself wondering if I should have done something differently, I shrugged it off as a pointless internal debate because I was where I was; the only thing I could do now was move forward, with a little more insight and wisdom. And, importantly, when presented with any new challenge, I continued to say yes.

That’s how I wound up on 75 Hard. I’m currently on day 70. I’ll do a whole other long-winded post after I successfully complete the 75 days, so I won’t veer off in that direction now. What I will say is that it has not only solidified my path forward, but it may very well have helped me change my life.

I will end with this: being your own best friend isn’t sad. It’s a necessity. By saying yes to things outside of my head, I was actually saying yes to myself. That’s the true choice I am making every day. I choose fun. I choose joy. I choose quality interactions over quantity of friendships. I choose health. I choose laughter. I choose trying. I choose failure as a possible option, and I choose to not be afraid of that. I choose a fuller life. I choose me.

I say yes.

  1. Not including vacations. I am somehow a free spirit when I’m traveling. ↩︎
  2. The only “rule” I’ve set around this that it can’t be with the knowledge that anything I say yes to might be hurting someone — myself or anyone else. ↩︎
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NEW DAY 119: It’s all write

Sometimes when I have nothing to say, I end up saying the most.

I generally prefer to keep the parameters of this blog limited to weight loss, weight management, and physical fitness, with the occasional foray into related areas like mental health that directly connect to the experiences I have along my path. I’ll (perhaps annoyingly) refer, in vague terms, to parts of my personal life that have an impact on these things, simply because they inform my thoughts and/or feelings around a given topic — but without straying too far from the crux of Life Can’t Weight or revealing too much about myself. And to be completely honest, that can be really hard at times.

One lesson I have (re)learned this year for the gazillionth time is how absolutely essential it is for me to keep a good balance of systems in place that help in my overall picture of self care. Wellbeing is about the delicate, interconnected components of life and how they affect us as humans existing in our time and place. Precious little is within our control when you stop to think about it; how we manage our immediate environment is in many cases the extent of it for a given person.

My special combination that keeps me feeling in check is quality nourishment, meaningful socialization, productivity (through professional or personal work), creative output, physical activity, reflection-based expression, and sufficient sleep. When any of those things is absent or underrepresented for too long, the whole system breaks down. Lately, managing my physical health has been so overrepresented that it has dominated my schedule and, consequently, my thoughts. Although each day is still different, the routine and my thinking are more or less the same.

The effect this has is that it makes me less inclined to write here or anywhere else, and particularly when I have too much time between therapy sessions, my reflection-based expression time suffers. Because I’m not operationalizing that release valve, my sleep suffers. With less energy from a rest deficit, I have no interest in creative pursuits. Without a proper channel for my creative drive — on top of the lacking energy and sorted-out emotions — I feel ill-equipped to socialize; I’m less patient, more taciturn, and in the mindset that I’m poor company and should spare other people from that type of interaction.

You can see where this is going. One by one, the dominoes fall, and the whole structure topples. And that’s the state in which I currently find myself. I’m writing here right now because I have nothing to say — and that says it all.

There are so many thoughts constantly racing through my mind, it would stand to reason that I could simply grab a hold of one of them and use it as a writing topic, or a real-life conversation starter, or even an opportunity for creative expression. Instead, what happens is I fall through every mental trap door that leads to some tangential thought that spirals into something else entirely, and I get stuck in an endless web of overthinking that allows zero peace. The only time my brain is quiet is when I’m doing a challenging workout that requires my full focus. As much as that sucks when I’m not pushing myself through intense exercise, it’s such a gift that I can count on that time to convert the ceaseless frenetic nonsense into a physically healthy endeavor while also expelling it from myself, even if only for a brief period.

The story of this year has been just get through this. First, it was just get through this bad news. But before that could happen, it became just get through this loss. Concurrently for part of that, it was just get through this sickness and just get through this financial drought.
Just get through this uncertainty.
Just get through this horrendous job market.
Just get through this emotional pain.
Just get through this physical pain.
Just get through this relationship strain.
Just get through this boring book.
Just get through this unpleasant conversation.
Just get through this adjustment period.
Just get through this self-doubt.
Just get through this waiting for a response.
Just get through this waiting for an initiation.
Just get through this 75 Hard challenge.
Just get through this day.
Just get through this night.
Just get through this sentence.

Until what?

When does it get better? When is it enjoyable and not just an impediment on the way to something that is? More importantly, how do I activate enjoyment instead of just getting through waiting for it to happen?

There aren’t answers to these questions. As with many things, the only way out is through. I can decide one thing: whether to keep going or not. For now, I choose to keep going.

When I’m out of survival mode and my brain space frees up again, I can commit seriously to reclaiming my agency beyond that flimsy choice.

I have to just get through this first.