As some of you may know, we’ve undergone an eight-month process called “moving.” It started back in the summer of 2014. A duo of discerning realtors, three home inspections, and one failed contract later, we closed on December 22.
In the final weeks before the move, I ate more fast food than I care to recall. I didn’t fully grasp how that affected by body at first. I joked that my bridesmaid’s dress was tight in the bust on December 13th (“How awesome! Bigger boobs!”) but the rest of the dress flowed away from my body so I didn’t pay attention to other places that may have grown.
By the time that I finished the Christmas Eve and Christmas Day feasts, I was the heaviest that I’ve ever been in my whole life. I hadn’t made time for a decent yoga session in two weeks so aside from feeling lethargic and bloated, I also felt stiff and knotted.
Then came the wake up call during a shopping trip for an upcoming party. I picked the sort of dresses that I would normally slay in (so fierce!) and I got slayed instead. I felt like a blob with toothpick arms and calves sticking out of it. I stood in the dressing room mirror, staring at my unfamiliar body, simultaneously dumbfounded and irritated.
I’m usually body positive and I avoid judging others’ appearances. That’s not always the case for my own body. There were a few factors that didn’t help, such as:
- knowing that I hadn’t gained weight for a good reason. Health conditions, medications, babies–all good reasons to gain weight. Eating crap food and not taking care of myself is not a good reason.
- feeling like poop on a stick. When I first started taking birth control I gained five pounds–all in my boobs and butt with a dash of weight in my thighs for good measure. I felt voluptuous! (Curvier chicks are laughing at me, I know.) But this new weight didn’t go where I wanted it. It sucked.
- my Caribbean cruise looming in the distance. It’s the dead middle of winter, the worse time of year to try to find new warm weather clothes. If none of my existing clothes fit well, what would I wear and feel good in during my vacation? I certainly didn’t want to buy clothes just for the trip that would hang off of me when I got back in shape.
Add those irritants to these scenarios:
- I got leggings for Christmas. My brother took one look at them and said, “Are those going to fit?”
- I sat down at the table in my favorite pair of jeans and felt my stomach bubble out over the top button. What in the actual hell!?!
- My sister casually looked up from her computer one afternoon and asked, “Don’t you need to get back to doing yoga? How long can you go without it before losing your flexibility?”
- The damn dressing room mirror…
I sprang into disaster management mode. Calculation: I’d have to eat 800 calories a day or fewer to get back to my normal size before the cruise. Not happening. I needed more time to lose the weight properly or replace it with muscle.
The conclusion: do what I can within reason and accept that my six pack would not make an appearance in my bikini. That sucked but I could live with it.
But what about yoga? I already felt alien in my own body. I had made so much progress before the move and in two hectic weeks I felt like I’d backtracked by 5 months.
The conclusion: Stop whining and start over. What’s the better alternative?
It’s hard to accept that things can get out of control but it’s not worth beating ourselves up, torturing our bodies or neglecting our social lives to look a certain way by a certain time. We’ve got to deal with the consequences of life, pick up, and keep going.
For anyone that skipped one (or several) workouts during the holidays, please be responsible with getting back on track. Keep loving yourself and know that your goals are still within reach!