In my last post, I let everyone know that I am down 30+ pounds so far.
I’ve been feeling pretty good about myself. I’ve kept it up and been able to do it without struggling too much. Sure, I don’t eat as well as I could every single day, but I certainly am keeping it as close to 1800 as I can, and I’m not going too overboard when I slip. I do my walking pretty much every day, and almost every day I make a minimum of 10k steps.
I’ve even got plans to get started on some resistance training after my vacation. I’ve got some resistance bands, a medicine ball, some dumbbells and a fitness ball that I can use to accomplish these tasks.
At any rate, I was feeling pretty good about myself. I’ve come a long way, I know that I have a long way to go, but I was still feeling pretty good.
That was, until, the ‘incident’.
My family and I were in Sears, getting some new shorts for the boys for vacation. I knew that my pants size had to have come down a little, because my shorts will basically fall to my ankles without my belt as tight as it can be.
I got the stupid idea to try on some shorts to see if I could fit into something smaller. I was bordering on a size 44 waist when I started this journey, so a rational person would have gotten a 42 to see how that would look. Obviously, I didn’t do that, because, well, I’m stupid. I grabbed a 38! I have no idea what I was thinking, but as you can probably guess, they didn’t fit at all. So here I am, in the dressing room, feeling like a tool because I got shorts that would obviously be way too small for me, and somehow expected them to fit fine. That’s when it happened.
I had the shorts about 3/4 up my legs, and I looked up. It turns out that there was a giant full length mirror in front of me. I looked absolutely ridiculous with the small shorts almost on, but I also noticed that I was INCREDIBLY fat. Not just overweight, fat. Obese. I looked terrible. I knew I had more to go, and although I weigh about 265 right now, I looked every bit of 300 in that mirror. I kind of wished at that moment that I had looked at myself in a full length mirror when I WAS almost 300 pounds, so I could mentally have made some sort of connection to the actual difference in weight.
I was thinking earlier in the day about how good I’d been doing, and then had totally crushed my spirits with a tiny little act.
The good news is that instead of making me dive into a pile of cake and cookies and ice cream and pizza, the ‘incident’ has really motivated me to keep going. If this had happened to me a year ago or more, I’m not sure I could have simply looked past it and continued on my journey. Just the thought of how big I looked has motivated me to lose the weight more than ever.
Have any of you been in a similar bad situation that you turned into motivation?