Tag Archives: life

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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 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 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.

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NEW DAY 108: Hearty fatigue

I sound like a broken record, but I can’t believe how tired I am. I was so drained on Thursday that even after a pair of sweaty workouts during the day, I had insufficient energy to even take a shower before I went to bed. Yet my body is so accustomed to a certain rhythm that it won’t let me sleep any more than I’m sleeping.

I’m realizing that it’s not only my body that’s tired, though. Or my consciousness. It’s mainly my heart. (Metaphysically speaking, of course.)

After a rough event about a year ago, I said to a few friends that I felt like a balled-out melon. It was like someone had sliced me in half, scooped out my insides, and given away the good parts of me, leaving a discarded rind for me to somehow regenerate enough human essence to fill back up if I wanted to keep going.

In February of this year, I felt that same way. I’ve spent the intervening months trying to make myself whole again. I’ve had some success: I’ve produced creatively, I’ve landed a new job, I’ve re-established a few interpersonal connections, I’ve given myself a vacation, I’ve tried new things, I’ve had new ideas, and I’ve made huge strides towards improving my overall health. But underneath it all, I’m still feeling a lot of sadness and loss and hurt. I’m still grappling with a lack of answers that I know I’ll never get. As I’ve said to a similar arrangement of friends, it takes a lot of energy for the body to quietly run depression.exe in the background of everything else.

This isn’t to say I’m consciously miserable or actively struggling, or anywhere near the same spot I was stuck in 7-8 months ago; I’m not thinking about this all day, or even fleetingly every day. I’ve put a great deal of effort into recovering, and I have made progress. The full process simply takes an unknowable amount of time, and there are reminders in my life that are both animate and inanimate which keep some of the deeper cuts feeling fresh. Even the more superficial wounds aren’t healed; they’ve just entered a different phase of scabbing.

Hard things are hard.

I am certain that I’m focusing on the right stuff to restore my quality of life. It’s not — and can’t be — to the total exclusion of all else, though, so the dark stuff is going to creep in sometimes. Learning how to make space for that without allowing it to become consuming is another challenge for me to figure out. I will. I am.

But my non-anatomical heart could use some caffeine.

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NEW DAY 52: Vacation (all I ever wanted)

I got home yesterday from 2 weeks of traveling. I saw new places with familiar faces, spent a lot of time outdoors, and truly got away from things that I needed an escape from. I am back feeling recharged and still committed to healthy living. I actually missed the gym while I was away — and I continued to have no interest in tasty treats. The scale rewarded my consistency with a 4-lb loss.

Part of my travels was with a friend I hadn’t seen in a decade. In the time since, she has become very outdoorsy and athletic: she’s an avid hiker, jogger, and rock climber. When I say she’s athletic, I mean she’s climbed Mt. Kilimanjaro. Recently. (Yeah, that’s right, my people are freakin’ cool.) So uh, I did have some concerns about whether I’d be able to keep up with her while we were roaming around our leg of the trip. I’m not saying I was matching her pace, but I was matching her energy level, and I wasn’t all out of breath and incapable of doing the things we wanted to do because I was too overweight and out of shape. Of all the high points of my trip — which was made up of almost exclusively high points — this is the one I may be happiest about.

I took myself on a bucket-list trip to Australia back in October for my birthday. I had always wanted to make that trip, but hesitated not only because of the expense and the fact that it would be a solo trek, but perhaps most of all because I knew there would be things that my size and (lack of) fitness would preclude me from doing, which I would have wanted to do. Sure enough, there were activities I had to opt out of for those reasons. The things I did do, I found took a lot longer for me to do and required a lot more energy to do than they should have. It was perhaps the worst shape I’ve ever been in on a trip like that, which is regrettable. I’m still glad I went, but I can’t pretend I feel no disappointment from the overall experience. I look forward to going back on a redemption trip there at some future point.

Come Monday, my daily routine will be changing and I’ll have to figure out how to reconfigure my schedule to include exercise time. I’m beginning 75 Hard with the friend who knows about this blog (hi!) tomorrow on something of a whim (for me), so I’m really locking in some hardcore stuff to take shape over the next 2.5 months! It seems like fortuitous timing to sync with my return from vacation and pivot into a new chapter with the start of a new job on Monday. Someone remind me on day 23 that I did this to myself. 🙃

That about covers it for now, but I trust there will be a lot of content in the coming 75 days or so!

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NEW DAY 16: Time capsule

In the spirit of self-(re)discovery and commitment to getting healthy, I’ve been overindulging in a very specific activity today: re-reading my entire blog from the beginning.

I became a weight loss warrior in 2015. I lost over 100 pounds and was on track to get to my goal weight. For reasons that aren’t worth getting into right here and now, I didn’t reach the finish line. But I did some amazing work.

I’m not the most cooperative person sometimes when it comes to unsolicited — hell, sometimes even solicited — advice from others. I want to ensure I stay motivated and focused, though. So maybe I’ll listen to past-me as she blazed the trail all those years ago.

It’s effective. It’s strange, nostalgic, and bittersweet to read back… but effective nonetheless.

This morning, I took a friend out to a belated birthday breakfast and pedicure splurge. I didn’t feel super energized to go for a workout when I got home around midday, but I took myself to the gym and logged a 10-minute jog on the elliptical and a 5-mile ride on the stationary bike.

Accompanying me at the gym this go-round is another relic of my old working out life: my iPod. I know, I know: ring the outdated tech bell! But there’s a method to my madness. Gym time is my time. I can’t be giving in to the distractions of texts and emails and videos and doomscrolling. Sure, I could stream music from my phone like a functional member of 2025 society, but I don’t trust myself to do that without caving to the temptation of all those other apps. So iPod it is, for as long as it continues to live.

As you can imagine, my old Move! playlist hasn’t been updated in several years. As with my blog re-read, scrolling through its contents was similarly strange, nostalgic, and bittersweet. But props to some creative choices I made while I was keeping it current. Here for your amusement is a selection of the (sometimes surprising) additions that make for good cardio tunes, several of which are from very bygone eras. Come for the BPM, stay for the lyrics that (sometimes rather inexplicably) fuel my movement.

  1. Right Here (Departed) – Brandy
    When your tears have dried from cryin’
    And the world has turned silent
    And when the clouds have all departed
    You’ll be right here with me

  2. Scandalous – Mis-teeq
    Hot stuff head to toe
    Where you go, no one knows
    Cute smile, plenty dough
    And we ain’t even close yet

  3. Hold My Hand – Jess Glynne
    I’m ready for this, there′s no denying
    I’m ready for this, you stop me falling
    I’m ready for this, I need you all in

  4. You Can Do It – No Doubt
    You can do it, you’re gonna do it
    Jumpin’ through it, you’re gonna do it
    You’ll get through it, you’re gonna do it
    You can do it, you’re gonna do it
    You can do it, you’re gonna do it
    You can do it, you’re gonna do it
    You can do it, so get to it

  5. I Did Something Bad – Taylor Swift
    They say I did something bad
    Then why’s it feel so good
    Most fun I ever had
    And I’d do it over and over and over again if I could

  6. Get Back – Ludacris
    Hey, you want what with me
    Imma tell you one time don’t fuck with me
    Get down, cuz I ain’t got nothing to lose
    And I’m having a bad day, don’t make me take it out on you

  7. Freedom РBeyonc̩ ft. Kendrick Lamar
    I break chains all by myself
    Won’t let my freedom rot in hell, hey
    Imma keep running
    Cuz a winner don’t quit on themselves

  8. Scream – Michael Jackson & Janet Jackson
    Stop pressurin’ me
    Just stop pressurin’ me
    Stop fuckin’ with me
    Make me wanna scream

There are a few other interesting nuggets on there, but I’m pretty sure I mentioned them in other blog posts (I haven’t made it the whole way through my re-read yet, and am not sure if I will). Gotta love the little trip down musical memory lane — and these songs are still doing their job for me! I almost don’t want to add anything to the playlist… but I know I will have to eventually to keep a fresh rotation and variety.

This particular moment in Mission attempt #countless.0 has me feeling a bit precarious. It’s been simultaneously tough and surprisingly easy to get back into exercising so far; my body wants to do this, and my mind wants to do it just as much. I’ve been at it with intention since June 18th, and I have lost around 10 pounds since I last weighed myself before that date back in mid May. This year so far has (re)taught me that I can at least trust my own judgment, intuition, instincts, etc. In full honesty, my confidence is still very shaky, and part of what I’m trying to reclaim with this endeavor is that. It will take time, but every droplet of sweat goes directly into that bucket. All I can do is keep at it.

I will eventually believe [I] Can Do it – No Doubt.


*I may be wrong about some of the lyrics, but this is how I hear them!
**Yes, this is some true… shall we say… musical eclecticism. ðŸ™ƒ

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NEW DAY 15: It’s aliiiiiiiiiiive!

Forgive me, blog, for I have sinned. It has been **checks notes** 7 years (🤯) since my last post.

Every spring, I have to decide whether to renew the annual cost of owning this domain name. Every year since 2018, I have come very close to hitting cancel. It’s only out of sheer laziness that I haven’t. I finally figured that I’m paying for this thing — I might as well use it. There’s plenty to write, and if all goes well, there will be plenty more.

To say it’s been a strange ride since I last wrote in here would be a laughable understatement. To try to do any kind of meaningful actual update on those intervening years would be equally ridiculous. So I’m picking up here at this time code without concern for what was missed in the fast forward. The plot had its twists and turns, but the ending is still on its way and TBD by plenty of other factors.

What I will say about the time since February 2018 is that it can be characterized by a few choice words. The one rolling around in my mind right now is “almost.” I came close to realizing a lot of my priorities. Some of them, I did realize, only to see them crumble.

Frustrating. Sad. Wasteful.

In the past now.

This year has been particularly challenging, in a way that no year since 2018 has been — not even those pandemic years. I’ve been staggering through events in my personal life that have toppled the structure I had built atop what I believed to be a sturdy foundation, and which have left me questioning core pieces of my worldview. Everything about this time has been erratic. I’ve been emotionally volatile, my energy has been virtually non-existent from the simmering anger and sadness always coursing through me, I have been getting nowhere near enough socialization, my eating/sleeping/activity/bathing/general adulting habits have been all over the place; there has been no routine to speak of.

I’ve felt wronged, insulted, tarnished, judged, abandoned, unimportant, forgotten, betrayed, mistreated, and rejected.

I’ve felt stressed, alone, scared, confused, hurt, angry, stupid, hopeless, devastated, nervous, useless, mournful, and exhausted.

I thought more than once about giving up entirely.

I knew incorporating exercise into my life would make a difference. When I think of the time in my life when I was most emotionally, psychologically, and physically healthy, it was when I was disciplined around being physically active. The two-pronged problem standing in my way for months was a total lack of motivation alongside deep apathy.

Then one day — if you’ll forgive the facile, cryptic, and highly suspect jump cut (again) — everything in the space around me was suddenly batshit crazy. That’s coming from someone who was pretty sure she was the dictionary definition of crazy at this point, so to see that things around me had out-crazied me to the batshit level was… something. The abrupt intensity filled me with a new kind of restlessness that was frenetic, and HAD to be released before I exploded into a million pieces. And so I found myself back at the gym for the first time in years.

For the past two weeks, I have been sticking with my plans and commitments to self to prioritize my overall health.
I am running again.
I am preparing thoughtful meals for myself and not consuming meals from restaurants again.
I am managing my finances responsibly again.
I am writing to detangle my thoughts again.
I am making an effort to keep a social life again.
I am getting out of bed in the morning again.

I am trying again.

**deep breath**