Well, here we are again. It’s been awhile. I regret that I have not been more diligent in my journaling (both public and private) over the last few years. Now there are precious moments lost to time and fading in memory due to my failure to write them down. I’ve actually been poking at this particular post for several weeks. Some of those old words (since removed) now seem presentient. Things I feared may have come true. It happens, I guess. Nevertheless, we keep going, one foot in front of the other, and try to do better in the future.

So, here’s the deal: I get wrapped up in my head. I like for things to be decided, to be settled in my mind, but it’s the actual implementation into reality that I sometimes have trouble with. I am more thought than action, and I suspect that has backfired against me recently.

Today, I want to talk about action and lack of action specifically as they relate to health, activity, and weight loss. (No, I am not removing the cinnamon roll picture at the top of this journal. Looking at it makes me happy, and I believe a full, well-balanced life can include the occasional dessert.)

I’ve maintained roughly the same weight and clothing size for at least the last 5 or 6 years, but I haven’t been happy with the way I look or the way I feel, especially recently. I’ve lost confidence, not that I had that much to start with (issues and insecurities, I have them), and in some ways I feel like a stranger who’s residing inside my own body. I’ve been disconnected from myself. Nothing has brought that home more clearly than attempting to play on a playground set with children and realizing how little faith I had that my body would perform the feats I wanted it to do.

I’ve made pretenses at action. I’ve made a few actual actions, but I haven’t tended to follow through and keep up with them. To give you some idea of what I’m talking about:

Things I Have Done That Constituted Taking Action in My Mind But Typically Required Very Little or No Real Action on My Part

• October 2013: Added the Runkeeper app to my phone (as an aside, I’ve been starting and failing to finish various Couch-to-5k programs since at least 2009; I know this because I’ve helpfully saved dated Word documents of my old browser bookmarks)
• October 2015: Joined Moon Joggers (have since logged 249 miles, not diligently or probably completely)
• April 2016: Bought the Supreme 90 Day DVD series from Goodwill (it’s like a stripped down P90X knockoff and I actually get results pretty quickly when I use them… but then for some reason I quit)
• May 2016: Bought a FitBit Charge HR (which I do still wear regularly, and I am tracking food in it again, too)
• July 2016: Splurged on three pairs of running shoes at one time
• January 2017: Paid to became an investor in From Fat to Finish Line (the idea being maybe I’d put my body where my money was)
• March 2017: Started and failed to finish (I dropped it four weeks in; I don’t remember why now) the FFTFL Run Your First Mile Training Plan; also bought several strength training books
• October 23-25, 2017: Conducted a comparison of local CrossFit boxes’ class times and membership prices
• November 2, 2017: Paid to join Nerd Fitness Academy (which I have recently requested to cancel because I’m completely uninterested in the whole quest module thing and I really won’t ever use it; I guess I’m not the right kind of nerd)
• November 25, 2017: Signed up for a free three-month trial of Slimming World (recommended by my boss)
• Et cetera, ad infinitum.

There’ve been other false starts, of course, probably lots of them, that are not as easily remembered or documented. So, now I’m trying to figure out where and why I become stuck, but unpacking baggage can be hard. There’s parts of myself that I don’t really like facing.

During the three times before in my life that I have lost significant weight, it was for a man, not for me. I didn’t do it because I wanted it for myself. I thought if I was thinner and more traditionally attractive, I would be more loved and more desired. It never worked out that way, of course, and I think part of my struggle recently has been being afraid to fall into that pattern again. I wanted this time to be for me, not for anyone else. I think it has to be for me if there’s to be any hope of sustaining it.

Meanwhile, my mind has always fought against me. It tells me that I will no longer be held in esteem, be liked, be loved, if I am seen to stress, to struggle, to–worst of all–fail. I know that’s not true. I don’t lose affection for other people when I see them struggle and try. If anything, it swells my heart and makes me love them more. But believing the same for myself is difficult. So, in large part, I’ve pretended not to try, let words go unsaid, because that way I haven’t had to admit that I’ve tried, struggled, failed. I’ve set myself up for rejection by being afraid of it, and I haven’t always been authentic and genuine with the people who’ve deserved it most.

But! I have been trying! Ahem, again. As you can sort of tell from the list above. If the scale is to be believed, which I’m not always sure it is, I’ve lost about 10 lbs since the end of October/beginning of November. I don’t think I look like I have, I don’t think I feel like I have (if anything I feel more squishy), but some items of clothing do fit a bit differently. Zippers that once “rode down with wear” now stay where I put them. Of course, how many times have I lost and gained that same 10 lbs over the years? Too many. It’s too soon to trust it yet. Also, I would prefer to talk in terms of health and activity, not just weight, but the scale is certainly the easiest marker of change right now.

This last month and some few days, I’ve been more active, and I’ve been more mindful about what I’m eating. It’s a work in progress. I only started tracking my food intake and exercise activities with anything like dedication this last week. It’s not that I didn’t do anything before. I just didn’t track it or talk about. It seemed personal, something to keep more closely guarded, but that’s how I’ve always end up failing.

I’m tired of failing. I’m tired of being a stranger in my own skin. I’m not quite sure yet who I’m going to be, but I’m stumbling down the road to get there. This is my journey; I have to move at my own pace, but I’m tired of doing it all alone. I can’t keep failing to turn up to my own life out of fear or discomfort. Will I suddenly be magically braver and over all my hangups? Probably not. Probably definitely not, but I’m self aware, I’m looking at the patterns, and I believe patterns that are known can be broken or reworked.

So, let’s say weekly, I get introspective, I get vulnerable, and I get you guys to help keep me accountable. I become responsible and accountable to my own words and thoughts when I share them. This is pretty uncomfortable (read: scary as hell) and in some ways feels like the ultimate in narcissistic, navel-gazing self indulgence, but what the hell? Let’s do it.