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So, for the first time ever, I have managed to work out every day since I last saw Terri. Hated every second of it, but I did it, and it was actually only slightly more exhausting than thinking about whether I was going to do it and then not doing it, so there you go. But, for the record? I still hated it. Maybe in a couple of weeks I’ll get to that Lifetime movie kind of place with it where I actually see all the hating it as part of the process of coming around to like it, but I doubt it. For now I’m going stay with hating it, but still doing it, which is still progress.

Oops!  here’s post from last week that i guess I saved rather than published!

So, I’m coming off of a pretty bad week food-wise. The big lesson is that until I better understand my relationship with food, I am always only 1 parental visit, or one fight with the husband, or one too-long wait at the spa away from complete self sabotage. At this rate, one too many stressful days will leave me wallowing in potato chip crumbs and self-loathing. Now clearly, this is not the way forward. But the way out is, sadly, a bit elusive as well.

For the moment I’m keeping it simple. Eat. three. healthy. meals. Get. to. the. gym. Keeping my mind on those things is so far, keeping my hands out of the baked Lays bag. Fingers crossed.

So, it’s 10:30 on Saturday night and the only place I’m getting ready to go is to sleep.  Because I just got back from the gym…you know, where all the cool people go on Saturday night.  I could have avoided this perhaps by going to the gym earlier in the day, certainly, but instead I did just about anything else while silently obsessing about when I would go, how boring that hour might be, and then of course,  how terrible I would feel if I didn’t go at all.   And guilt is a powerful motivator for me, but maybe just this once once it’s serving me well.  So I went to the gym on Saturday night, but most importantly, I went to the gym.

So it’s amazing how quickly I can get in a bad place in my head with food and exercise.  And once that happens, fridge-grazing can never be far behind.  And so much of it comes from wanting everything to perfect, and not just perfect, but perfect right this second.  And the drive for perfection in everything has always been such a disaster for me — whether it was keeping me skinny on a diet of rice cakes and coffee, or keeping me fat on a diet of well, anything/everything.  I’ve definitely seen both sides of it, and neither one are any good.  Terri has a great way of reminding me that it took a long time to get from my old level of fitness to where I am now, and that I should be kinder to myself while I claw my way back.  The first day that I met Terri she told me that I had to be willing get get ugly with this whole process.  She was definitely right.  Everything about this journey is about so much more than shrinking my waist.  It’s not easy, and it’s definitely not pretty, but even on the worst day, it’s still good.

So this week has been a struggle with keeping my own appointments.  Working out on my own without Terri’s encouragement has been an ordeal.  It’s clearly the next piece of the puzzle, and every day that it doesn’t happen feels like I’m letting myself down a little bit.  On the days that I actually make it to the gym on my own, I enjoy feeling stronger than I used to be and leave with a clear head and sense of calm that I didn’t walk in with.  But on the days that I don’t?  I dunno…I end up transfixed in front of Bravo’s latest reality confection, on the phone, out with friends, or whatever, instead.  The number of diversions I’m open to is ludicrous.  And yet, the lesson in all this is clear.  Terri’s gym is an amazing space where all the barriers to working out are removed.  She has a great way of pushing me further than I could go and keeping my thoughts positive.  But I have to find my own way around all those barriers on the days I’m not working out with our favorite drill sergeant.  And it’s just about getting it done really — just as simple, and as hard as that.

Ever since I can remember I’ve been obsessed with the numbers on the scale.  Whether they were low or high, or going up or down, they’ve always had a significant space up in my head.  No matter what I have been doing, for as long as I can remember, some part of my brain has always been thinking about them.  As I’m typing this out right now, trust me, I’m thinking about them.  Walking the dog?  Out with friends?  Thinking about them, thinking about them.

The thing is, since I’ve been working out with Terri, I’ve started to think about a couple of other things as well.  Like being smaller and stronger than I was when I started.  And the importance of just turning up.  Because Terri has a great way of getting the best out of you, even on the worst day.  And it’s great to know that as long as I get myself to her door, I’ll feel a lot better in an hour.  Movement cures everything, as Terri says.  And go figure, she’s right.