Tag Archives: motivation

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NEW DAY 260: Downsizing

In a past life, when I was having success with weight loss, I used to do this thing where I’d buy a few articles of clothing a size down from where I was, every time I reached a new smallest size. Staying on top of the sartorial demands of slimming down is an expensive pursuit whose timing is unpredictable, so it helps to be prepared for it; my little gimmick helped not only to keep me motivated, but to keep me clothed. My big move was rifling through the sales and clearance racks for off-season finds that gave me a comfortable cushion, to the extent that the season-bound availability allowed. Every time I purchased a downsizing garment, I wrote the date on the tag, which remained attached until that piece fit. Once I could wear it and it became an official part of my wardrobe, it was a cool way to track the time between size changes that weren’t always congruent with the scale — and it came with a fun little ceremonial act of snipping off the tag.

Last night, while I was laying out my attire for today (to save me time in the morning), I found one such relic from that bygone era:

I tried on this skirt and it fit. With room to spare. (So yes, I wore it today.)

Seeing the date on the tag as I cut it off triggered a memory of a couple of other items I bought around the same time: two pairs of… shorts. 😱

I found them immediately, folded together in a tiny stack on a shelf in my closet: one a size 14, and the other a quixotic size 12. The tags aren’t dated, but I’m reasonably certain they were from around the same time as when I bought the skirt I wore today, if not from the same shopping trip.

These are the two smallest downsize items I have. This means two pretty big things:
1) I have never been as small as I am now.
2) I am about to enter a new frontier that I am literally not outfitted for.

I set both pairs of shorts out in plain view for subtle thinspiration. It was too soon to try on either of those sizes, having newly sized down into 16s. Maybe in another month or two, I’d be up for trying on those 14s. For now, those two pretty big things are a lot to absorb.

So when I got home from work today, in the skirt I was wearing for the first time since purchasing it more than 9 years ago — because I regained all the weight I’d lost before I got the chance to shrink into it — I wanted to make sure it wouldn’t also be the last. I picked up those size-14 shorts from their spot and held them up in front of me. The idea of fitting into them suddenly didn’t seem so outlandish.

And it wasn’t.

Because they fit.

Not perfectly. Not as flatteringly as they will after another few inches disappear from my hips and waist.
But the fastener closed.
The zipper slid right up.
Those shorts were on me.
And I was floored.

It’s truthfully a little nerve racking; I have no blueprint for this phase. I haven’t “been there before”. I don’t know what I’ll look like the next size down. I don’t know what I’ll feel like when those 12s are sliding on. I don’t know how things will fit me at clothing sizes I’ve never bought ahead, let alone worn. Most alarmingly, I don’t know for sure that I’m gonna make it to the next size below. There’s no precedent for any of that.

But I made the major choice at the outset that every minor choice I make in this process will support my overall health. I do know I won’t deviate from that, because there’s nothing but precedent for it — and a trove of powerful results that have come from it. I believe in what I’m doing. I may not be prepared for the next step down, but when I get there, I will be ready.

This is where the real emotional work begins. In the interest of always choosing my health, I’ve been laying track for months to support my psychological journey that will go right through the heart of this thing. It’s already been exhausting, and it’s not even at full speed yet. The beautiful thing I have going for me is the physical activity that keeps me mentally regulated. And that’s a full circle.

So I might as well complete another circle while I’m at it. New frontier sounds pretty great to me.

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NEW DAY 257: Prescription plans

Today was my first doctor’s appointment in more than 7 years.

I told her about my 105+ pounds of lost weight. I told her my menstrual cycles have become regular again. I told her I’m training for not one, but two half marathons this year.

She told me I was doing everything right. She told me maybe I didn’t need to drink quite so much water. She told me to get lab work and come back at the end of the month.

We talked about my complex medical history. We talked about my current nutrition. We talked about my future goals.

And we began a conversation about one big thing that’s been on my mind for the past few months: skin removal surgery.

Because in several places on my body where there used to be fat, my skin hangs low. It wobbles to and fro. Before too long, it wouldn’t surprise me if I could tie it in a knot and tie it in a bow. God forbid I should wind up with enough to do what’s described in the lyric that comes next.

I’m not done yet. There’s no certainty about much more time it will take me to reach my “end state” — but it could be about a year, give or take. Starting the conversation with my doctor is the right move strategically for insurance purposes as well as for my own psychological and logistical purposes. My doctor gave me a referral for a practice that has done good work for a past patient of hers for an initial consultation, as a first step, which I look forward to taking. And, if I’m being 100% honest, it motivates me to keep going. Yes, I am interested in the aesthetics of this because I’m a person with deep-seated body issues and some (probably standard-issue) vanity to boot; no question it’s unsightly. But also, it is physically uncomfortable. Loose skin hanging from my arms, belly, and inner thighs is in the way. It chafes. It bulges. It gets irritated. And it’s not the kind of skin that just burns off when you lose more weight; it gathers additional mass.

This is just the beginning of a longer discussion, but it’s the right time. A surgical option is a big decision with a lot to think about, and I’m ready to start doing that in a real way with professionals who can paint it all in practical terms. My body isn’t finished changing yet, but the progression has been so rapid — 92 lbs since mid-June — that the finish line is going to get here fast no matter when that is.

I want to be prepared for it, not blindsided by it.

So, yes: today was a big day. It felt like the start of a new chapter. Not the exit from an old chapter, but the beginning of a concurrent one that has never been foreshadowed in anything that has been written so far. It’s as grounding as it is exciting, because for the first time, I’m looking at something that feels within my reach. I believe I have a doctor who is on my side and is invested in my health. I don’t have to do it alone.

Going forward is going to get harder because it’s going to demand more and more from me. I’ve already had to persevere through the slog of the 200s, sticking to my plan without taking drastic measures out of desperation to finally cross that threshold. I’ve already had to work around injuries and modify training sessions. I’ve already had to creatively reconfigure my schedule to ensure my workouts and meals didn’t fall off. It’s nothing I haven’t been able to handle, but it is the type of demand that tends to produce fatigue that compounds with time and demand. I’m trying to be prepared for that, too.

I heard somewhere, in a different context, perhaps the most affirming and applicable quote that fits my whole approach to my self-improvement work: “Motivation is fickle; discipline is consistent.”

I’ve shown up.
And I’ll keep showing up.
Because god damn if I’m not disciplined.

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NEW DAY 236: Stupor Bowl Sunday

Well, I had a pretty duh moment day yesterday.

Somehow in the past 2 days or so, I managed to tweak my back. It hasn’t been debilitating, but it did inform my decision to take a rest day yesterday, opting instead to spend it and most of today laid up on top of my heating pad. After taking it easy today to not only treat my back, but also to bank on a crowdless gym during the Super Bowl when I went to complete my half-marathon running session as planned, I hit a snag: I failed to remember that the Sunday gym hours are shorter than on weekdays. By the time I got there, as the employee at the check-in desk informed me, they were 18 minutes from closing.

There went my planned 45-minute treadmill session and strength training circuit.

For a split second, I considered taking a second rest day in a row. What was the point of a 15-minute workout?

Consistency. Showing up for myself. That was the point. That’s the entire point of all of this.

So I dutifully took my place on a treadmill in the nearly empty gym, making it my purpose to log a mile. My treadmill pace has been a modest 4.3 mph; in under 15 minutes, I was not going to be able to pull off the distance I wanted, even with a truncated 1-minute walking warm-up. So my pace tonight — and from this moment until the next increase — was 4.5.

I got 1.02 miles in 14 minutes.

Seahawks. Patriots. Whatever.
After snatching a victory from the jaws of defeat, I feel like the true champion of Super Bowl Sunday 😏

This coming week is going to be about some serious pushing of limits.

I can’t wait.

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NEW DAY 230: To beach their own

Six months ago, I was in the same vacation spot.
But everything was different.

Then: heat of summer.
Now: dead of winter.

Then: north side beach.
Now: south side beach.

Then: could barely walk through the sand.
Now: daily runs on the sand.

Then: 70 pounds heavier.
Now: less than 70 pounds left to lose.

Those are just the easy-to-spot distinctions. It would take a lot more time to go into how very fragile, wobbly, unconfident, and ginger I was Then. Promising things were awaiting me at home after my summer trip, but I wasn’t feeling steady about them. I had lost trust in the universe, while slowly clawing my way out from under the pile of collapsed rubble that had been my worldview, and bargaining with myself to keep going.

I didn’t know why to keep going. I had taken the part of my brain that asks and tries to answer that question, offline. I just… did.

Running on the hardened sand at the very end of January was a much more meaningful experience than sunning on the gritty sand at the very beginning of August. It’s hard to compare two experiences that are so drastically different, but what makes it possible is me. I’m more different than any side-by-side pictures of the coast separated by seasonality. My seasonal changes are also visible, but it’s the ones only I can see that are the most pronounced, the most powerful, and the most profound. But the best part of all of that is the ownership I feel. I have rebuilt and reclaimed all of it, and used it to propel me forward.

That’s why in the Now, I had to frequently pause during my oceanside jogs. It wasn’t to catch my breath. It wasn’t to rest tired legs. It was to let the waves of months of emotion wash over me as I involuntarily recognized how far I’ve come.

I can’t wait to see what further developments come about by the next time I find myself on a beach.

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NEW DAY 222: It’s an ice day for a run

It’s not the most glamorous way to blog, but I’m propped up on a pile of pillows topped with heating pad #1 resting against my lower back while heating pad #2 hugs my neck and shoulders. Shoveling 10+ inches of snow from a driveway that seems to magically expand with each Herculean scoop can apparently have this effect. I’ve only gotten about 30% of the snow cleared after 75 laborious minutes today, and there’s more of it on the way tomorrow! God rest my s(h)oul(ders).

As much as I’m very much not loving doing this exhausting chore in sub-freezing temperatures, I’m finding motivation from a surprising source. It’s not because I’m the only one who can do it. It’s not because I’m coming up with clever rewards for myself for making progress. (I’m not, but damn, that probably would have been smart.) It’s not even because of my supreme abhorrence for feeling trapped, which I quite literally am so long as my car has no means of egress from this house.

It’s… because I need to run.
Not want.
Not feel like.
Need.

Yup. My running addiction is officially so serious that it is now the driver for me to dig out untold cubic feet of heavy snow for hours. I am compelled to exert myself physically by the promise of more intense exercise.

^I saw this on Instagram the other day and instinctively screen grabbed it. As unhinged as the sentence that preceded the above image sounds, it’s true — and it’s because running has saved my sanity this past year. That’s not an overstatement, an exaggeration, a hyperbole, or a dramatization; it’s a fact. I owe everything that finally started going right last summer, to running.

Excavating the snow between me and the nearest treadmill is going to take a lot of time (and heating pads and Advil) across a stretch of 2-3 days, but I’m not the least bit deterred. I’m too eager to get back to the gym to resume my training sessions. Who knew that could even be a thing?!

I’ve been reluctant to claim the title “runner” for myself; runners are lean and fit and proper athletes. The half-marathon I’m participating in selected exclusively people who meet that description as their official ambassadors for their race events, so this is not a definition I’ve invented; it’s societal. Runners look the part.

But you know what? Runners are also chonky and awkwardly built and accident-prone messes with bum ankles. They are tentative and unskilled and constantly sore. They are learning and graceless and quick to sweat. They are hopeful and resilient and tough self-coaches who are stronger than they look.

I read somewhere that if you run, you can call yourself a runner.

I’m a runner.

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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 163: Thankful

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then, no regrets.

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

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

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

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NEW DAY 151: Milestones update

Today was unintentionally awesome.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So I’ll just keep going.

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NEW DAY 129: 75-Hardened

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

MY TOOLS FOR SUCCESS

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But first: rest.

by

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.