In 2010 I started my weight loss journey and over the next 3 years I proceeded to lose 6 1/2 stone, in May 2013 I was 5lbs from goal. I got featured in magazines for my weight loss, gained followers on Twitter and Instagram for "being inspirational" I made myself, my family and friends proud. Since then I have put 5 stone back on. And until now haven't admitted in to any one, not even myself to some extent. And for my friends and family reading this it is probably the first time I'll have admitted to them how much I have put on. Although they obviously already know as you can't really hide a 5 stone weight gain can you? And my mum well she has a sixth sense and probably knows the exact numbers, plus has put up with my tears and tantrums (literally) over it! Thanks mum!
It's strange how you don't see the weight creeping on and how easy it is to kid yourself that you haven't put anything on. Squeezing into your clothes that are now too small for you.
I have been praised by my friends and family, been in magazines for my weight loss, have followers on social media because of my weight loss and here I am lying to myself at how much I have gained, and feeling like I shouldn't have all these followers and friends I have made through weight watchers, through twitter and Instagram because I'm not really that person any more am I? It's funny how I'm the only one judging myself for this - in my eyes I feel like I have failed, like I'm a fraud. And I know all of those people still love me (or at least I hope they do!)
And I guess by writing this down I'm drawing my line, moving on to the next stage of my weight loss journey.
The last 2 years have been tough, I guess in my heart of hearts I knew the weight was creeping back up, especially after I had run the marathon. I stopped running which again I kidded myself that "having a little break" would be ok... I did a few runs here and there but nothing compared to what I was. Timehop is a killer sometimes reminding me how quick I used to run!
I used excuse after excuse. Being in a relationship, losing a baby, moving in with Jon, having a breakdown, the anti depressants, even the marathon I used as an excuse to eat! All of these happen to each and everyone of us but I chose to eat my way through the tough times and that has got me here now.
This reality check for myself has been coming for a while - I went shopping with my mum for an outfit a month or two ago, had a melt down in the changing room and had a strop like a 5 year old because I refused to by a certain clothes size! I hate how much more I care now - hell when I was 18 and a size 22 yes I didn't like that I couldn't walk into any shop and by anything but I don't remember crying almost daily about it.
I guess the difference between now and then is what I know. As cliche as it sounds I didn't know any different then. I didn't know what it was like to be healthy, I didn't know what it was like to run up the stairs without wanting to die at the top, I didn't know what it was like to run, I didn't know what it was like to walk into any shop and pick up whatever I wanted and know I wasn't going to look like a sack of sh*t. All I ever knew was being fat. And I want to be healthy again. And I will.
Everything culminated after a rather large melt down I had caused by a swim suit and a pair of shorts! First of all the swimsuit was a size 16 whereas all my other holiday clothes were a 14 and then the shorts were an 18! Now I know that all shop sizes vary blah blah blah. But it hit me, hard. I had put the weight back on and in my mind I was back to square one. Yes I'm not the size 22 I used to be and yes I know it's not all about a clothes size but running. Running I used to be able to run a 9.30/9.45 mile. Now I'm dying running a 11.30/12 minute mile. That hurts a lot. Mentally and physically its tough, knowing that I had worked so hard to get to where I was and in what seems like a blink of an eye I am back to square one.
It's tough going out, I'm no longer the confident bubbly person I was. I can blame that on the depression, the anxiety or the weight gain. But as hard as it is staying in bed and crying isn't going to get me to where I want to be. I want to have fun again and I want to be proud of myself.
I needed to stop kidding myself. It's time to stop making excuses. It's time to be healthy. It's time to be happy again.
Here's to the next stage of my journey. As the title of my blog says "you haven't failed until you quit trying" and I certainly haven't quit.