but first, weigh in!
Loss this week: .8
It's still up a couple of pounds from the pre-race/vacation low but it's a loss and I'm happy with this week.
I did however come to a realization listening to my leader speak this evening of her family and her struggles with their food traditions: The biggest factor for me in relating to someone on this journey is the WHY. Don't get me wrong, everyone who is losing or has lost weight is a hero in my mind. They did the hard work and changed their lives and there should be medals that don't look out of place with a dress or suit so everyone will know at a glance. BUT The ones that inspire me are the ones that share my problem, an unhealthy relationship with food.
I was giving the leader that took over Nicole's Sunday meetings a fair shake. She seems to be a good person, smart, kind and friendly. Then she proudly whipped out an old saw of weight loss that I personally disagree with all the way down to my soul: Nothing tastes as good as thin feels. BULLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLSHIT! Every bite is a choice and even with full awareness of how horrible some foods are for me, how much of my good progress they dash and how much they hurt my running training...and I eat them anyway.
I won't bore you with my baggage and the why but I have come to realize that there are some foods I crave. More than health, more than achievement and previously, more than life. Let that sink in for a moment. MORE THAN LIFE. I know more than a fair bit about nutrition, health and exercises and I made the wrong choices knowing that it would eventually kill me. It was only my doctor giving me a fairly exact time frame that made me start to change.
That doesn't change who I am or the baggage that I will likely always carry. The smell, flavor and texture of fried chicken will always connect with home, comfort, love and family in my head and until I die I will always want more of it, even if I am so full that it is physically painful to swallow. This is a bull I have to fight every day to become stronger and more healthy. I'm getting fairly practiced at these fights and the vast majority, I win. To keep winning I can't ever turn my back on him and not for one instant can I deny his presence...he comes for me when I'm weak, tired or just not paying attention.
Bullfighting is not an accidental metaphor in this, I leave you with some Hemingway to think on: "To calmly watch the bull come is the most necessary and primarily difficult thing in bullfighting."