Tag Archives: lifestyle change

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NEW DAY 146: Too fast?

Last week, when I was weighing out for a Kickstarter, I got an email from DietBet saying that their algorithm had “flagged [my] account due to unusual weight loss patterns.” At first, I was kind of offended. How dare they impugn my integrity! Then I paused and realized… yeah, dropping 45 pounds in 3 months is a reasonable thing to raise a non-sentient eyebrow over. And that’s only the weight loss they can see; from late February to the time of my composing this sentence, I’ve actually lost 80.4 lbs.

It made me step back and ask myself if I’m doing this right. I’ve been operating from a standpoint of prioritizing mental health, and treating the weight loss as secondary (although actively encouraged). Is it healthy to see this kind of change this quickly? My Transformer progress chart, updated as of this morning’s weigh-in for round 3, is pretty staggering. If my weight loss continues at this clip, I could lose more than 30% of my body weight within the DB’s 6-month window and wind up disqualified from winning. I crunched, re-crunched, and even snap-crackle-popped the numbers because I couldn’t believe it — but it’s a very real possibility unless I slow down. (I know you can’t see any pounds in my screenshot, but you don’t need them to understand what’s going on here. For reference, the final 2 diamond points on the chart represent the overall target goal of -10% of my starting weight. I am well below that line already, and we’re only halfway through as of this moment.)

The answer to that question is yes. I have not done anything unhealthy in service of my goals. I have prioritized my exercise time and treated it as sacrosanct. I have honored my nutritional needs so that I am fueling my body, not poisoning it. I have been cognizant of getting proper rest and enough sleep so that I don’t tear myself down. I am taking in enough calories and macros. I am not engaging in obsessive behaviors with the scale or at the gym. And very importantly, I do not have any disordered eating habits pointing to bulimia or anorexia.

The biggest change I’ve made is quitting sugar. Rapid weight loss is what happens when you quit sugar after a lifetime of ingesting every crystal of it in sight. Period, the end.

I expect my weight loss will slow, and it will be maddening when that happens — this quick progression has spoiled me. I don’t mean to suggest it hasn’t come with effort on my part; it certainly has. It’s very difficult to cut out sugar entirely, and it takes me a lot of time to meal prep every week even with just trying to keep my sugar intake low rather than zero. I spend a good amount of time each week on physical activity, too. But as the truism goes, you can’t outrun a bad diet. Never has my body been so grateful as it has these past few months that I’ve let it detox from the white stuff. I’d choose this feeling over a decadent dessert any time, every time, over and over again.

So I feel ok that I now have to submit to an extra level of scrutiny during my DietBet weight checks until they remove the flag on my account. It turns out that it’s not any more annoying to record a video of myself getting on the scale than it is to take 2 still photos. In fact, I may actually prefer the video method. It’s hard to complain when my body is this happy.

Over the weekend, I had two other affirming experiences that underscore the positive ways my body is reflecting the changes I’m making. First, I had a haircut on Saturday — my first since the very first week of this whole NEW DAY chapter of my life. My stylist, not having seen me since 58 pounds ago, not only remarked on how great she thought I looked and nearly jumped out of her skin when I answered her question about how much I’d lost, but she also said my hair looks healthier than ever. It’s gotten a little thicker and is growing more quickly. That’s not something I expected to be possible after a certain age, but she couldn’t get over the difference.

The other experience was going for reflexology massages with a friend. We were unexpectedly made to strip down to the waist when it was time for the deep tissue massage, which we were having done in the same room. In the past, I would have lobbied to keep my clothes on, thankyouverymuch. Not this time. Bye bye, shirt and bra. It’s not exactly a smoke show under there, but it’s not a paralyzing source of shame in front of a bunch of other women anymore. And hey, I have had so much relief from that massage in the days since: greater range of motion in my neck, no stiffness in my ankles in the mornings, less soreness in my shoulders. Worth it.

I also found 2 pairs of pants on clearance over the weekend which were a size down, but I bought them anyway because I keep pantsing myself when I walk. My best estimate was I’d be about 2-3 weeks out from wearing either of them, and I’d fill the gap with skirts and dresses (brrr!) until then.

About an hour ago, I tried one of the pairs on.

They fit.

I cried.

Happy body, happy tears. And none too soon.

Last night was the first night of my half marathon training. It went well, but this is gonna suuuuuuuck.

I came right home and officially registered for the event.

I can’t wait. 😁

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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 101: Happy trails

One of the things I appreciate the most about 75 Hard is its requirement for an outdoor workout every day. Sure, it’s a hassle if there’s inclement weather that either throws a wrench in my planning or forces me to get attacked by the elements if bad conditions hit during my session, but getting outside has been wonderful for me. The daily dose of sunshine, fresh air, scenery, increased vitamin D, and exposure to nature combine to form a powerful mood booster that has helped stabilize my emotions, allowed me to clear my head, and and given me a prescription to get out of the house to shake up my stale surroundings.

I started tentatively exploring the greenway near my house earlier this summer, well before 75 Hard was even in my vocabulary. One of my first visits there is when I took a spill and busted my knee, which triggered a weeks-long hiatus from going there again. Since beginning 75 Hard, though, that greenway has become a staple in my routine — but I haven’t spent much time on the actual trails that make up the greenway. On my normal trips to the site, I fast-walk (and sometimes attempt to jog) around — and stop for frequent dance breaks in — the large paved surface up a small hill from the parking area. Trudging into the sprawling footpaths has felt intimidating to me; there’s no area map, so I can’t tell where the trails go, see how they all connect, or get a sense of how long it might take me to complete a given circuit. Since the time I’m there is usually my lunch break, I’m hesitant to experiment with what could turn into a very long walk and then be scrambling for time, or late returning to work. On top of all that, the last time I did venture back into one of the trails this summer, I made it about 10 minutes in before I got too winded by the hills to continue, so I turned back and left. I’ve been reluctant to do a repeat of that, so I haven’t bothered.

Until today.

I wasn’t feeling particularly eager to get out there for workout #1 this morning. It’s overcast, I haven’t slept well in days, and I’m bored with the same old routine. I finally coaxed myself down to the greenway and decided today was the day I would mix it up by at last giving the trails another try. Armed with a clear schedule and dozens upon dozens of podcasts to catch up on, I headed into the great unknown.

It took exactly the 45 minutes I needed to count as a 75 Hard exercise sesh. And furthermore, the hills were manageable! Towards the end, when I knew I was completing the loop back to the parking area, I kept trying to identify the point where I had given up and about-faced out of the trail 3 months ago. I never figured it out, even though it was the same trail; I reached the exit in total confusion, lungs full of air and not at all out of breath.

I really enjoyed the different experience and feeling of exploration I got to have today, and I’m looking forward to doing more of that at the greenway. Changing it up can be a small risk, but it’s almost always worth it. Now that I have a variety of new paths to infuse some novelty into my outdoor workout options, I’m feeling a bit more energized about the remaining 26 days I have on 75 Hard.

Again, I’m so glad I’m obligated to get out there for exercise every day. It’s expanding my horizons while helping me become measurably fitter. This challenge has given me the opportunity to surprise myself over and over again, and that’s been priceless.

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NEW DAY 97: To heal, the six

Four days after I broke 5 miles for the first time in over 8 years, I hit 6 for the first time ever in my life. I hit 6.01, to be exact: that’s 6 miles and .01 to grow on.

My nasty hanger-on of a cold is still not all the way gone (!), but I’m putting nails in its coffin every chance I get. Breaking 6 miles tonight was not planned; I had a what-if spark early in my elliptical run and just felt I could get there — and then the feeling of what if and I could turned into I’m gonna make this happen. And I did make it happen! In 65 minutes exactly.

It was not as easy as that; I did almost stop at a few different points, and I did wonder if I was writing checks my body couldn’t cash. Would I potentially injure something in this mad pursuit? Would I be decrepit the next day? Well, to hell with the fear. There’s no place for that in this. Decide you want it, and then go get it.

I’m recovering not only from illness, but from trauma. The first half of this year was miserable, yes, but it’s deeper and longer than that.

I didn’t know if my legs — perpetually at high risk of ankle injury — could still do this.
I didn’t know if my lungs — 7.5 years removed from multiple massive pulmonary embolisms — could still do this.
I didn’t know if my mind — plagued by faltering, tentative confidence still in the process of rebuilding — could still do this.

Well… they could.

And they did.

With every step towards 6.01, I proved something critical to myself. It’s not just that I’m physically capable or mentally strong. It’s bigger than that. It’s that I’m healing. I’m learning to trust myself, to believe in myself, and to care for myself again. And even if it’s months before I see 6.00 on another gym screen, I will revel in the moment when I was still unsteady and took command of my story like never before anyway. Because I wanted to, I believed I could, and I decided to.

That’s fortitude. That’s resilience. That’s growth.

That’s recovery.

That’s what leads to peace.

I didn’t cry when it happened like I thought I would. Something even better happened: I got emotional, and I leaned into it. I let the waves of pride, surprise, impressed-ness, relief, success, joy, and accomplishment wash over me. I felt it all. After months years of self-preservation-based blunted feelings, I felt it all. It was the type of rush that is life-affirming. It was the type of rush I thought I was no longer capable of experiencing.

POSSIBILITY.

I may find a way back after all.

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NEW DAY 81: OMG, WHAT?!

Sunday is my weight tracking day. It’s the day I mark the end (NOT beginning) of my week and officially update my weight loss tracker. I try not to peek at the scale between Sundays, unless I have to for a DietBet weigh-in/weigh-out.

Well.

I just had my weekly 1:1 meeting with the scale, and…

Ho. Ly. WHAT.

I lost 7.2 pounds last week.

No, like… actually.

This goes a long way to offsetting some of my disappointment from last week, when I only dropped 1.8 pounds after powering through some truly torturous workouts (and other situations) while on a sinister period — and I highly suspect that a non-negligible portion of this 7.2-pound loss was really from last week, but masked by residual water retention. All the disclaimers aside, it doesn’t matter when the scale decided to show the change; I worked for it, I earned it, and it’s my win!

I had been feeling and noticing differences throughout the week, but I never imagined I would lose more than 4 lbs at the absolute max. I have NEVER lost this much in a single week. I am absolutely mindblown!

It feels even better knowing it’s not from doing anything but truly healthy things. I’m consuming zero processed sugar, drinking at least a gallon of water every day, and working out twice a day. Importantly, I’m also spending time outdoors and getting enough sleep to sustain the physical demands I’m making of my body. And boy, did my body reward me for it this week.

Seven. Point. Two.

LET’S GO!!!

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NEW DAY 80: Label it

In a past weight loss life, I did a few rounds of the Whole 30 diet. One of my favorite foods and staples each time was Aidell’s chicken and apple breakfast sausage, because it had zero added sugar. In my current tango with 75 Hard, I’ve been looking for reliable sugarless foods I can easily incorporate as the healthy eating part of my challenging. My meal plan for next week’s breakfast included those sausages. So imagine my shock when I flipped a package of them over in my hand when I was grocery shopping this morning and discovered they now contain 2g of added sugar! 😱

I’ve had the Aidell’s sausages many times since I last did Whole 30; they’re delicious and simple to make. I have also checked those labels in the time since and am certain that they remained free of added sugar until as recently as earlier this year. When did this happen?!

Needless to say, I dropped the Aidell’s like it was hot and was fortunately able to find a different brand of chicken breakfast sausage that did have no sugar added. I’m so glad I thought to confirm the nutrition facts on the package before throwing it into my bag! Simultaneously, I’m so disappointed about this change. Granted, 2 grams of added sugar is negligible in most cases, but zero added sugar means ZERO added sugar. Close call — phew!

I am on day 28 of 75 Hard and holding strong. I did all of my meal prep for the upcoming week today after my grocery run, and my second workout of the day was a walk/dance in the lightly falling rain. I’m feeling so good about having the energy to get through everything I’ve planned and then some each day, and to know that I’m taking good care of myself.

I’m also becoming more invested in this half marathon idea. On Thursday night, I put together a training plan of 25 weeks that would begin in early November. My plan right now is to complete 75 Hard, start a less-rigorous workout routine (twice a day is simply not sustainable forever) and allow my body to adapt to things like weight training and rest days, then begin the program. I built it from a great deal of research, combining elements of plans designed by a couple of sources and creating something that will meet me where I’m at to start and allow me to work my way up in a gradual yet demanding fashion. I’m actually looking forward to this! It’s going to be incredibly tough — I am NOT a runner, nor am I built like one — but I want to trust my body to rise to the challenge and level up in fitness. 75 Hard is definitely greasing the wheels for it, too: I’ll have lost a helpful amount of weight by the time early November rolls around, which will make it easier on my joints to adapt to running.

This is a lot of change in just a few short months. The person I was at the beginning of this year would never believe what she would be capable of a little later that year — and in spite of the shitty things that would happen to her before that.

Doing this will avenge her. If I could, I would hug her and tell her she’ll be OK. And if she could, she’d high five me and tell me to go prove our point.

What a team 🙂

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NEW DAY 71: I’ve been thinking…


The past 3 days of 75 Hard have proven far more difficult than expected thanks to some very uncomfortable menstrual complications. In an effort to recast my misery into some form of positives to focus on, I’ve landed in potentially dangerous territory.

Here’s what happened.

I reminded myself how lucky the timing was with my hybrid work schedule, so that my peak suffering days have been wfh and, fortunately, not onsite.

This triggered the memory of the fortuitous timing of how I landed the job in the first place. If not for the exercise and weight loss starting when they did, I wouldn’t have had the confidence — or anything interview-appropriate to wear — while moving through the hiring process. If not for the precipitating chaos that led me to snap into action, I never would have started. If not for… I mean, just how far back do I take this?

It got me stuck in a loop of replaying key moments from the past few months and examining the importance of when they happened. What if the timing had been slightly different? What if just one of the things that led to another, hadn’t happened at all? Where would I be today? How would I be?

And while in this dubiously philosophical pseudo-meditation, a lightning bolt struck: what if I trained for the next city half marathon?

Uh…

Here I am, only 19 days through 75 Hard, and entertaining the possibility of running 13.1 miles just 8 months from now. Ummm, excuse me, me! I would like a word!

That word: HUH?! 😲

One of my coworkers mentioned the other day that she signed up for the halfer on a whim after her doctor told her to get more exercise. Most people would start taking causal walks; this absolute legend decided that the appropriate response was to go from never having run a single mile, to conditioning herself to run half a marathon’s worth in less than a year. And evidently, this airborne insanity has infected me.

But will I actually do it?

Honestly… I might.

Rationality says to make it through the rest of the current challenge I’m just barely 1/4 through before leaping off the next cliff.

Dubiously philosophical pseudo-meditation says that this seed was planted at this time for a reason, and I might as well start training even if I don’t want to take the step of registering for the event right away. After all, I have two guaranteed dedicated workouts a day for at least the next 56 days. Why not incorporate training into those slots?

I’ve found several feasible training programs ranging from 12 weeks to 20 weeks to 6 months. If I started training in September, that would give me 8 full months to coach myself up to half-marathon shape — and be a longer term goal that would have the additional benefit of keeping me focused on movement during the winter months.

There’s a good chance this is happening. Stay tuned.

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NEW DAY 60: Seeing is believing

Another metric is in: restaurant booths.

The last time I went to a certain fast casual chain was July 4th, which was about 6 weeks ago. I had been doing my frantic gym sessions and abrupt sugar detox for roughly 3 weeks at that point, so not much had noticeably changed for me physically yet. On July 4th, I struggled to squeeze into the restaurant booth and my body was touching both the back of the bench and the table throughout the meal — a reality I’d become all to familiar with, in spite of the discomfort.

Fast forward to yesterday when I returned to the scene of the ongoing crime. Several inches separated me from the edge of the table. I can comfortably fit into a booth again.

I had noticed the gradual changes over these past few weeks: more space between my belly and the steering wheel when I drive; less incidental contact with things like walls and furniture; roomier workout shirts; getting into tops that haven’t fit in several years. While my drops in weight haven’t been monumental, the slow slimming down of my figure has. In addition to fat, I was surely carrying a lot of bloat that has finally taken a hike.

I am falling into the trap of feeling frustrated that the number on the scale doesn’t seem to fully match what I’m observing off of it, and I’m trying to temper that as I continue my progress. I will say that the pounds lost aren’t obsessing me the way they used to in previous iterations of this. That tells me this is the healthiest approach I have ever had to getting healthy.

That beats every other metric, every time.

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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 20: Running scared

What if I can’t do it… again?

There’s so much I can’t do. I’ve failed at what feels like innumerable things in my life, and so much this year in particular. Today, I suddenly realized I am having imposter syndrome about everything. EVERYTHING.

My mind is very unhealthy right now. The only thing that has acted as a release valve has been movement.

My current situation is bad, but one luxury I have is that I can go for a workout whenever I want. It’s become a crutch to the point that I wonder if it’s actually problematic to be creating this type of likely-unsustainable precedent for myself, but it’s extremely helpful to me right now, so I’m gonna punt that potential problem to a later time.

The feelings of inadequacy, the fears that things will never get better, the preoccupation with how much I’m doing wrong, the outsize concern over rather trivial matters, the involuntary “what-if” thinking… they’re consuming. They’re suffocating. They’re draining. They’re LOUD.

But not when I’m running. Thank goodness.

I’ve had a long history of fitness attempts, all of which had notable success before ultimately failing. There were big similarities between the trajectories each time. I don’t remember this apprehensive state being part of it before. I know it’s because the stakes are at their highest now, and that this shitty year is casting a very long, very dark shadow over everything I do. It’s one more inner demon to combat in my very noisy mind amid the deafening silence of the faltering existential landscape around me. The discomfort from working out gives me something to feel other than sadness, and the challenge of keeping myself going when it feels too hard gives me something to think about other than how much I’ve fucked up my life. I kind of remember experiencing those benefits before, when the stakes were lower.

One thing I know I’ve never experienced in my past attempts is a total absence of “bad” cravings. It’s like I woke up one day and had zero interest in consuming anything that isn’t a healthy choice. It almost feels like cheating; as hard as physical conditioning and exercise are, especially in the beginning, the diet part was always harder for me. Temptation lurked around every corner, threatening to derail me in a moment of weakness — even in my dreams. This time, that’s a foreign concept. I doubt it will last forever, but for as long as I have this unexpected and incredibly valuable tool in my arsenal, I will be grateful for it.

While I’d love for the total disinterest in crappy food to be a lifelong friend, I’d welcome a change in the rest of my mentality. Fear’s ability to power my workouts is a tarnished silver lining, but feeling powerful in my workouts on my own is what I’m running after.

I hope I catch it soon.