Time I Finish What I Started

Some good, some bad. First, I’ve been able to knock off 5 pound in these last two weeks. However… I went on a trip to Chicago with my fellas this past weekend and put it all back. Thankfully I know it’ll be off quick and I’ll be back down those 5 and can keep rolling.

Now that that business is outta the way, I want to get to something that happened in Chicago. Something amazing and different and new and old and scary and exciting.

For the first time since 8th grade, I went swimming.

Swimming people.

And without a “swimming shirt” or other shameful tool of denial.

We were looking for coolers when we got to town to put our beers in for the weekend and decided to all pick up swimming suits. The next morning I woke up early and went to the hotel’s gym. I ran on the dreadmill, then knocked out a few sets in the weight room while I saw my buddies come into the pool area. I thought about it for a moment, worried what they (and others. and myself.) would think of me in a swimsuit. Then I realized, “hey – I’m denying myself my life. I’m not allowing myself to live.” Eff that! So I strapped on the new suit, then went down and just jumped right in. Splash!

Dude. I was so happy. So frigging happy. Swimming! I was allowing myself to enjoy life, and while I’m still working to slim down, I’m not going to let my obesity run my world any more.

I’m lost. I’m struggling. This “journey” that I am (was) on, seems to have shifted into a full-reverse. And I don’t know how to stop that.

I can barely write this stupid post. It’s been on my mind for days. However, when I first thought of it, the title was going to be Twenty, as in the twenty pounds I’ve regained since losing 85 to begin with. But as of tonight, I’d have to retitle that post Twenty-One.

Twenty-one fucking pounds.

Do you know how long it took me to lose that? How long I was stuck on 263, then on 256? How thrilled I was when I broke into the 240s, with a personal-best 247? That was *so hard*. Nights of sleep cut short. Miles and miles run. Thousands of pounds lifted.

I’m scared to go back there. Scared to try and go in the other direction. That momentum is a killer. I don’t know what to do to stop my current trend and reverse course.

Oh sure, I mean I KNOW what to do. Drink water. Get rest. Go to the gym. Lift weights. Do some extra cardio. Cut out the soda, the pasteries, the high-fat foods like pizza. Doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. So why can’t I? Why can’t I do it like I could a year ago? What’s changed?

I don’t know. Nothing. Everything. This shouldn’t be this hard. This could be lots harder. Why could I find the willpower to fight before, and I no longer can?

God, I’m such a hypocrite. I wrote in my last post how to set goals. Know what I didn’t write? How to ACCOMPLISH them.

I’m still not sure just yet. Not sure what to do/say/write. I know that this week will be very hard. I’ve got a stressful couple of projects at work. I’ve got a trip out of town for four or five days.

This can’t become 25. It just can’t. I’ve worked too hard to lose it all to my old self.

I have to fight again. I have to get back up and swing. Keep swinging. I can’t give up.

Please, let me find the fire to win again. Please.

268.7