Posted on

5k a Day… Every Day

To run or not to run, that is the question.

I used to like running.

I’m not sure where memory ends and nostalgia kicks in about running, but when I was a kid there was nothing better than a full out sprint through a field or cutting through yards to get to a friend’s house. Running so hard it felt like your chest would pop, and then to keep going knowing it wouldn’t. Playing games in your head: How fast can I get from streetlight to streetlight? How many seconds to the end of the street. The next block. The park. Back home.  Can I go faster than last time? It was exhilarating. Continue reading “5k a Day… Every Day”

Posted on

Success & Roadblocks

First Things First

At just over one month into this process, I’m down 25 pounds and I feel great! I’m getting into a groove… and by groove I mean routine. While my plan is for this routine becoming a way of life, I need to make sure it doesn’t cause me to become complacent.  Eating much better and exercising is transforming the way I feel and the focus I have. It’s pretty cool. I have more energy than before and I feel as if I’m in a better mood more often. However, it appears as if I’ve hit my first obstacle.

Continue reading “Success & Roadblocks”

Posted on

Percentages and Happiness

What in THE HELL did I do?
How did I get here?
What happened?

I ate… a lot.

Not long ago I had an epiphany. I eat every meal like it’s a special occasion.

You know that feeling you get when you’re out to dinner for your birthday or an anniversary? That one meal your family makes and you all look forward to? Thanksgiving dinner? The anticipation before the meal. Having a little more than you probably should. Indulging until you’re uncomfortably full. I eat every meal this way. All of them.

The result of having done this for years is that it has now become my normal. This is what I’m used to, and not having a large meal every time I eat feels inadequate, almost like I’m doing myself a disservice. Logically I know this is super-backward and not all all true, but, more often than not, another helping sure does seem like the right thing to do.

This week I declined an invitation to play soccer with my daughter. Because I’m so out of shape I was terrified that I’d be an embarrassment to my kid. This is, easily, the single-most humiliating thing that I’ve ever experienced*.

I honestly don’t care what I weigh and I’m not terribly concerned with what I look like, but having to miss out on making a memory with one of my children because I’ve failed to take care of myself isn’t something that I’m willing to have become “normal” for me. Continue reading “Percentages and Happiness”