"And you know it don't come easy"
- Ringo Starr
So, I was watching a Weight Watchers commercial last night and this woman was all excited because she'd lost over 100 pounds. And I'm sitting there watching the commercial, drinking my stupid water, and so far I'm with her. I get it. Losing 100 pounds is a crazy big deal. But then she starts talking about how easy it was. "The first 20 pounds just fell off and then I went to sleep for a week and woke up skinny!" I might have taken some artistic liberty with that last part, but honestly, that's the sense you get from the commercial, and at that point I was thinking...
I'm not knocking Weight Watchers. It's a good program. What I'm knocking is the way they portray the journey, as if changing the way you live your ENTIRE life is a piece of cake. (Mmmmmm, cake.)
What they need to show is the real story. Show us that same woman at 1:00 in the morning, cupboard open, in a death stare with a bag of Cheetos like she's Wyatt Earp at the O.K. Corral. Show us that same woman in a Zumba class at the gym, flailing like a blind baby bunny with no motor skills or muscle control, sweat pouring from places in her body she didn't even know existed. Show us that same woman, standing on her scale after a week of meticulously counting points, uttering profanities under her breath so foul it would make a truck driver blush because she only lost half a pound. That, my friends, is the reality of this journey. In short, it's hard and it sucks.
If I've learned anything in the last couple of weeks, especially in my Crossfit workouts, it's how far I truly have to go and how much work it's going to take to get me there. My body is unreliable, it's cumbersome and it's weak. And don't even get me started on my boobs. Ugh. Someone please invent a way for us to detach/attach them with Velcro or something. I see all you ladies nodding. You know what I'm talking about. I challenge all of the men out there, who think bouncing boobs are sexy, to lash a couple of huge water balloons to your chest and work out with them. Not so sexy now, are they?????
I don't want to give the impression that it's all bad. It's not. It's a relief to be doing this, to feel like I'm heading in the right direction. I'm digging my Crossfit experience. But every day, every single day, I fight to make the right choices. I fight my willpower. I fight my self-confidence. I fight my fear. I fight my frustration. I fight the urge to just quit, because that would be so much easier. I'm angry. I'm angry at myself for letting it get this bad. I'm angry at myself for not respecting my body enough, for not loving it enough and allowing it to get this weak. I'm angry at myself for waiting so long to do something about it. But it's a good anger, it's a productive anger, it motivates me to keep going.
I have months and months and months of work ahead of me. It's the hardest work I've ever done because it involves willpower on every level; physical, mental and psychological. I still doubt myself everyday. I'm scared of failing everyday. I'm physically in pain everyday. I've resigned myself to the fact that I will constantly be sore for the next year or more. And I soooooo want that bag of Cheetos, but I soooooo want to run a mile without doing my flailing blind baby bunny impersonation even more.
I'm not knocking Weight Watchers. It's a good program. What I'm knocking is the way they portray the journey, as if changing the way you live your ENTIRE life is a piece of cake. (Mmmmmm, cake.)
What they need to show is the real story. Show us that same woman at 1:00 in the morning, cupboard open, in a death stare with a bag of Cheetos like she's Wyatt Earp at the O.K. Corral. Show us that same woman in a Zumba class at the gym, flailing like a blind baby bunny with no motor skills or muscle control, sweat pouring from places in her body she didn't even know existed. Show us that same woman, standing on her scale after a week of meticulously counting points, uttering profanities under her breath so foul it would make a truck driver blush because she only lost half a pound. That, my friends, is the reality of this journey. In short, it's hard and it sucks.
If I've learned anything in the last couple of weeks, especially in my Crossfit workouts, it's how far I truly have to go and how much work it's going to take to get me there. My body is unreliable, it's cumbersome and it's weak. And don't even get me started on my boobs. Ugh. Someone please invent a way for us to detach/attach them with Velcro or something. I see all you ladies nodding. You know what I'm talking about. I challenge all of the men out there, who think bouncing boobs are sexy, to lash a couple of huge water balloons to your chest and work out with them. Not so sexy now, are they?????
I don't want to give the impression that it's all bad. It's not. It's a relief to be doing this, to feel like I'm heading in the right direction. I'm digging my Crossfit experience. But every day, every single day, I fight to make the right choices. I fight my willpower. I fight my self-confidence. I fight my fear. I fight my frustration. I fight the urge to just quit, because that would be so much easier. I'm angry. I'm angry at myself for letting it get this bad. I'm angry at myself for not respecting my body enough, for not loving it enough and allowing it to get this weak. I'm angry at myself for waiting so long to do something about it. But it's a good anger, it's a productive anger, it motivates me to keep going.
I have months and months and months of work ahead of me. It's the hardest work I've ever done because it involves willpower on every level; physical, mental and psychological. I still doubt myself everyday. I'm scared of failing everyday. I'm physically in pain everyday. I've resigned myself to the fact that I will constantly be sore for the next year or more. And I soooooo want that bag of Cheetos, but I soooooo want to run a mile without doing my flailing blind baby bunny impersonation even more.
I am so proud of you!!
ReplyDeleteThank you, my sweet friend.
ReplyDelete