Tag Archives: life

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NEW DAY 217: Walk on

Today was my prescribed rest day for this week of Power 11. It came at a good time; each ankle had its own special little tantrum at different moments last night, so it was a well-timed moment for a break. I did end up doing 20 minutes on my walking pad at home after work, though, to make sure I hit my daily steps goal for the day. While doing that, I had a realization: my balance has crazy improved.

My first foray into the world of the walking pad was back in the fall when I was doing 75 Hard. My first walk, and all those I did subsequently, were unsteady. It wasn’t so much a walk as a stagger, like that fool at the office holiday party who had more than one too many trips to the spiked punch bowl and is in no way pulling off the ruse. I had to hold on to my raised standing desk just to make sure I didn’t tumble off backwards or sideways, even for a short walk at a low speed.

Today, for the first time, I didn’t have to hold on. I walked briskly (3.4 mph) for 20 minutes with zero contact — and, more excitingly, zero swerves or stumbles.

It’s not just that my balance has improved; my stamina and strength have, too. I am no longer the spitting image of a failed DUI traffic stop when I take to the walking pad; I’m a woman with purpose.

Fitting, after a year of staggering through uncertainty and hoping — and then working hard — to regain my footing.

Speaking of fitting, I used my lunch break today to take a tour of my “before” pieces. These relics of my most-enormous size are the equivalent of snacking on grapes when what you really want is M&Ms: because I am only weighing myself once a week on Power 11, I can’t sneak a peek at the scale on days when I’m feeling curious. (There’s a reason for this: I’m trying to break my obsession with that number so it won’t become my whole worth. I say this while actively working towards a rather aggressive goal with a deadline that’s precisely 3 weeks away, but I digress.) Instead of indulging my curiosity, I try on the couple of articles of clothing I’ve held on to that remind me of where I started, so I can see how far I’ve come.

Today, I fit into one leg of my size 24 “before” pants. And after stepping into it (still zipped) through the neck, my “before” dress slid off my shoulders and right onto the floor.

Funny how that instantly killed any interest I had in what the scale might have had to say.

And so I walk on… with purpose.

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NEW DAY 214: Power 11, week 1

Hello from Power 11, day 8! I just completed my weekly tasks and am taking a beat to catch up on some chores while my lunch digests, before I head to the gym for my half-marathon training session and then an early dinner with a friend. Since I started this challenge last week, I have lost 5.25 inches and 6.4 pounds. This may seem high, which is why context is important: I had period bloat when I weighed in last Sunday, as well as a cold — so that likely artificially inflated some of my starting numbers. There’s also a known phenomenon that the first week of any major diet and exercise regimen shows a huge change that typically levels out in a lower second week. The true reflection of what may be “normal” typically appears in week 3. That said, I put in the work this week and my effort mattered. I feel encouraged by these early signs of progress and am looking forward to continuing to chart my progress for the remaining 10 weeks.

I’ve kept on track with the rest of the challenge, too. Separating the selfies and metrics into a once-weekly task has been a notable plus for me so far, and I’ve had a manageable time with hitting my daily goals. Since I’ve been getting over a cold this week, it hasn’t been the most favorable moment to do any extra workouts, but I look forward to feeling more energized so that I can incorporate a few bonus outdoor walks into my days here and there; I found the fresh-air activity so beneficial to me during 75 Hard. Winter is wintering pretty hard out there, but I enjoy time in the elements, irrespective of the season (albeit with more whining involved during summer months)! My recovery should be complete pretty soon thanks to some extra rest I’ve been able to get, which I would not have been able to get on 75 Hard.

It hasn’t been easy to come up with the motivation to get my ass in gear every day, but I’ve found ways to do it. My commitment is firm, and it helps to know that I always feel good after a workout.

I’m excited to see what results this challenge yields on day 78! Until then, it’s go, go, go.

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NEW DAY 207: Power 11

Inspired by true events, I have developed a spin-off series for the next 11 weeks of my life: Power 11.

The idea for this type of project came from a need I’ve felt to reset after my end-of-year travel. It was a vacation not just from real life, but from responsibility, routine, and regulation. I didn’t go crazy by any means — in fact, I continued to exercise most days while visiting people overseas whom I haven’t seen in years, even setting a new PBR in walking speed (3.7 mph) and continuous treadmill running (20 minutes) before 2025 was out. However, I did allow myself to not obsess over nutrition, sleep cycles, or half-marathon training. I decided instead to trust myself to respect my body’s limits by simply remaining attuned to its signals, knowing that I would be able to resume my regimen when I returned home.

This sparked my realization that there are tons of parallels between this recent trip and the one I took in the summer. In both cases, I:

  • Made long-overdue reconnections with people I love in places I know for 2+ weeks
  • Was heading out with a job offer I’d be starting a few days after coming back
  • Felt the importance of needing to cement a structure for myself that would continue prioritizing my mental and physical health while allowing me to adjust to a new professional setting and schedule

I started 75 Hard on a lark with barely 24 hours’ lead time to prepare back in August. In spite of the suddenness of that decision, the challenge not only served me well structurally, but it was also an unqualified success overall. With that knowledge, I figured the time was right for another program — but this time, with modifications that make more sense for my purposes without letting me off the hook for what makes 75 Hard, hard.

Here’s what I came up with:

DAILY TASKS

  1. TRAINING
    I will follow my half-marathon training plan to the letter every day. Each week includes 4 days of run training, 1 day of strength training, 1 day of cross-training, and 1 day of no training (rest). I tweak the plan at the start of each week and/or as needed in response to things like schedule changes, weather, injury, etc. There has to be reasonable flexibility because life be life-ing. The important thing is that I stay committed to building my endurance so that I will be ready come race day.
    Differences from 75 Hard: Only one workout per day. If I do another movement session because I feel like it, that’s fine, but it is NOT a requirement. It is likewise not a requirement for any additional daily workouts to be 3 hours apart from the other(s). There is no mandatory outdoor exercise stipulation as part of this plan, but my half-marathon training plan will start to include outdoor sessions as the race approaches.
  2. MOVEMENT
    I will meet my daily steps goal, including on rest days (more on that below).
    Differences from 75 Hard: This is not part of that program.
  3. DIET
    Instead of observing a zero-tolerance policy on added sugar*, I will follow a refined — pun mostly intended — sugar restriction plan of no desserts, no sweetened drinks, and no simple carbs. In foods I prepare myself, there will be NO added sugar. In all other cases, I will consciously choose options with as little sugar as possible, to the best of my ability to ascertain it. (I would prefer to do no sugar at all, but it’s simply too restrictive to be practical.)
    “Sugar” includes sugar substitutes, which are just as bad, if not worse.
    Differences from 75 Hard: This component of 75 Hard is customizable, so different people create different rules.
  4. WATER
    I will drink at least 1 gallon of water every day.
    Differences from 75 Hard: None.
  5. ALCOHOL
    No alcohol consumption. This almost goes without saying since all alcohol contains sugar, but as I’m doing **restricted** sugar, I’m keeping it as its own rule.
    Differences from 75 Hard: None.

WEEKLY TASKS

  1. REST
    In a total deviation from 75 Hard, my program requires one day off from exercise per week. Bodies need rest, especially bodies training for long-distance runs while aiming to avoid and prevent injuries. Recovery is just as important as getting after it.
    Differences from 75 Hard: 75 Hard allows zero rest days throughout the program, and any day off constitutes a failure of the challenge.
  2. READING
    I never fully understood the reading component of 75 Hard, but I did come to appreciate the enforced quiet time to focus on something other than “toughness”. In addition to trying to incorporate more stillness into my life, and as a nod to the 2026 Book Bingo challenge I am participating in, I’ve included a reading task in my Power 11 challenge.
    Differences from 75 Hard: I am only requiring it once a week rather than every day. I must read, uninterrupted by phone checks or randomly getting up and wandering around, for at least 30 minutes at some point during the day. “Uninterrupted” also means “not while on an exercise machine” — the point is stillness, and that means dedicated time with undivided attention. I can read more than once a week, but the time commitment and focus rules are only required once a week. Finally, I can read any genre I want; it doesn’t have to be non-fiction or have a self-improvement bent.
  3. WRITING
    I will make at least two blog posts per week. This gives me positive reinforcement for my mental health and fitness efforts while also providing an outlet for my always-buzzing brain.
    Differences from 75 Hard: This is not part of that program.
  4. PROGRESS PHOTOS
    I found the daily progress selfies to be the most annoying part of 75 Hard — and complete overkill. I do like the idea of being able to track the physical changes through photographic evidence, though, so I’m keeping it as a weekly action. I’m also explicitly stipulating both a head-on pic and a pic in profile each week.
    Differences from 75 Hard: Weekly instead of daily, and with two different views/angles rather than leaving this unspecified.
  5. MEASUREMENTS
    I will record the circumferences of my ankle, calf, thigh, waist, hips, bust, neck, tricep, forearm, wrist, and ring finger. (Perhaps excessive, but what can I say? I like data.)
    Differences from 75 Hard: This is not part of that program.
  6. WEIGHT TRACKING
    I will weigh myself every Sunday and record that number as my official weight for the week. I will NOT weigh myself more often than that, unless I have a weigh-in or weigh-out for a DietBet that does not fall on a Sunday.
    Differences from 75 Hard: This is not part of that program.

As with 75 Hard, any missed task for the day or week, for any reason, constitutes a failure and ends the challenge immediately. If I want to complete the challenge after a failure, I will have to start over at day one the next day. This is the same as 75 Hard.

You may be wondering: why the fixation on 11? Well, it wasn’t exactly intentional — but it also wasn’t exactly coincidental.

Something that bugged me about 75 Hard was that the first day post-challenge couldn’t mathematically fall on the same day of the week as the starting day. That means that the timeline for the full dataset of the final “week” of the challenge is 29% shorter than every other week. As I said, I like data, and this inconsistency is super annoying. In order for my program to comprise full weeks for a comparable duration, it would need to be 70 days or 77 days long. I went with 77, because why lower the bar? But I didn’t want to name it something based on the days; I wanted it to be based on the weeks. And that’s how it hit me that what I created is an eleven-week challenge.

I had also already planned to begin with day one as today: the 11th of January — because I want to start on a weigh-in day (which has always been Sunday for me), and have a weigh-in day also be my first post-challenge day when all the results would be locked. The number 11 has become significant in my autobiographical mythology this past year, so this seemed like a powerful connection. And that’s how Power 11 got its name.

From there, I noticed that my program had a list of 10 to-dos and 9 body measurements to track. Full disclosure: I did add one rule (no alcohol) and two measurements (hips and ring finger) to get to 11 of each. Hokey? Sure. Too hokey? Not for this girl.

And now that I’ve blogged (✅), it’s time for the official “before” measurements and selfies! See you back here again at least once more this week, like a good little rule follower.

Here we go again!

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NEW DAY 206: Hindsight is 2025

Last year was easily one of the worst of my life.

I spent the first few months of the year navigating sudden change, loss, and pain. I had concurrent health setbacks, financial hardship, and broken confidence that were exacerbated by that situation. I was completely demoralized and in absolute misery. It took months of hard work to get back on my feet, both figuratively and literally.

It was ugly.
It was painful.
I struggled through it.
But I did it.

Finally, in June, I had my turning point. I had put enough distance between myself and the traumatic events — as well as enough effort into recovering from them — that I was ready to take my power back. I embraced the idea of saying yes and dedicated the rest of the year to the things I wanted to reclaim: my story, my happiness, my strength, and my agency. The key to this was my mental health, and the key to that was my physical health. That’s how, just a little more than 7 short months ago, I found myself tentatively skulking back into the gym and telling myself I needed to make it through just 5 minutes on the elliptical. At the time, I could scarcely trek the distance from my parking space to the gym without getting winded, so that seemed like a tall order. And it was.

It was ugly.
It was painful.
I struggled through it.
But I did it.

And I kept doing it. For the rest of the year.

That has enabled me to experience a normal quality of life again. In the past 3 weeks alone, I have traveled internationally (via airplane in an economy class seat whose seatbelt I easily buckled for the first time in over a year), run 20 continuous minutes while on vacation, and completed a hilly outdoor 5K (walking). To say these things would have been impossible at this time last year is so true that it feels like it could somehow be an understatement. But in the here and now? It was a breeze, and I didn’t have to think about it at all in real time.

I can’t imagine myself ever being grateful for what happened to me as a result of others’ decisions in early 2025. None of it was logical, fair, or deserved. Part of me is still in disbelief about it. But I am grateful for what I ultimately decided to do about it. And I fully intend to continue along that path in 2026.

If the theme of last year was Reclaim and Recover, this year is about integration. All of the lessons I’ve learned and strides I’ve made for my health have been important, but isolating that progress from the precipitating events is not sustainable. I have to make peace with the past in order to advance towards the future I want. The only way to do that is by accepting and processing it all — not just from last year, but from all the years that came before it that I’m still carrying in the remaining extra weight on my body.

It’s time to really heal.

It might be ugly.
It might be painful.
I might struggle through it.
But I will do it.

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NEW DAY 169: 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.