Some Days It Is All About Putting One Foot In Front Of The Other
I hate to run, but I need to run. This statement may seem contradictory, but I think it is a common sentiment when it comes to exercise. My journey to weight loss and exercise began four and a half years ago when I went to the doctor for my annual physical. Sure I knew my pants were getting tighter, but I was the mother of four. My youngest was a year old. I still had some of my baby weight (OK, all of my baby weight).
After stepping on the scale I was shocked as reality smacked me in the face. I had to do something to get this under control. I went home and formed a plan. I decided the only way I was going to take this weight off was to run. The problem was I HATED to run. I had tried it in high school cross country and thought I might die every time I went out. However, in high school I weighed 100 pounds, so I didn’t have the motivation to run. Now was a different story.
I ran a daycare and time was limited, so the only way I was going to get this done was running on the treadmill during nap time. Thank goodness for Bravo network. Running to Top Chef, The Real Housewives and their other reality shows kept me entertained as I trudged along. And I mean trudged along. It was slow going at first. Run a little, walk a little, run a little, walk a little. Slowly though I began to build up my endurance. I would set goals for the week. Some weeks I would run a little longer. Some weeks I would up my speed. A funny thing began to happen along the way. I began to need to run.
During my hectic days of childcare, I began to look forward to my time on the tread mill. I began to pound out the miles and clear my head. Running was my escape. Don’t get me wrong, I was never excited to go run in the classic sense of excited, but I looked forward to the energy release. I knew that I would feel better afterward, so I forced myself to lace up my shoes and go.
There were days I would feel miserable while I was running. Those days it was literally put one foot in front of the other. Over and over again, I kept my goal in mind for the day. Most days I met my goal, and the days I didn’t meet my goals I was proud of myself for trying. Next I added weight training to add to my workout regimen. After a couple of months I could see results in my arms and chest and that felt good. For the first time in my life, I felt strong. I felt like I could do anything.
My weight loss was a slow process. It took almost two years to lose 25 pounds. It probably would have gone faster if I changed my diet more drastically, but I didn’t want to do that. I tried to eat less and cut back on high calorie treats. I never denied myself a treat. In fact, I would schedule them into my day as something to look forward to in the afternoon.
Four years after I started my journey I have kept 20 pounds off. Would I like to lose another 5-10 pounds, of course I would. Who doesn’t want to lose a little weight. For now I happy with my weight. I am at a good place knowing I am taking care of myself both physically and mentally. Even now, some days it is putting one foot in front of the other, but after I do that for 30 minutes I feel pretty good about myself.