I am in a slump.
I don’t know if anyone else gets like this, but I always hit a point where I am unfit enough and tired enough and stressed enough that it just seems impossible to imagine that I could change things.
When you are unfit, it is SO hard to actually break the routine of being unfit and start to (re)set new, better habits.
I gained quite a lot of weight while away down under. Enough that I sailed right past my usual “Danger, Will Robinson, Danger!” alarm bells marker and hit a weight I haven’t been (barring pregnancy) for more than seven years.
I need to buy new clothes desperately, but I won’t buy them because I’m carrying more weight than I should be. So instead I am barely managing to dress myself (really- I do not have a pair of shorts that actually fit other than athletic shorts and my only pair of capris were bought in 2008 and are faded and also do not fit very well).
My face is better than it was, but it’s still not great, especially when I’m on the week between packs of bcps, but I’m struggling with the whole foundation thing because it’s summer and it’s hot, and how do you put on sunscreen if you are dealing with foundation, and why does it matter because I’m dressed like a slob and carrying too much weight around?
I need to get my hair cut, but I can’t see the point of doing that when I am carrying around this weight and my face is a mess that I can’t be bothered to cover up, and I’m grocery shopping in clothes that a year ago I had strict rules about not wearing outside of the house.
And so it spirals.
I feel like an absolute mess right now.
The saving grace is that when I realized how much weight I had gained while on vacation, my first thought was, “That’s not me.”
I’ve written on here before about the body image problems I have. How I always see the fat girl that I used to be, even when running and infertility and anxiety had whittled me down to a frankly unsustainable and probably unhealthy weight.
I have an unbelievably skewed self-image.
So it came as a bit of a shock to realize that somewhere along the line my image of my self has changed.
I think of myself as a runner.
In a way, this self-image is as skewed as my old one. I only ran regularly for a couple of years. I only ran seriously for a bit over a year. I haven’t run- regularly or seriously- since getting pregnant with E. four years ago this month.
But I still think of myself as a runner.
My goal for the fall is to find a way to make that image of my self a true one again.
I know how hard the first weeks will be.
I know how hard my inner critic is going to work trying to convince me that there’s no reason to do this because I’m not any good at it and I’m such a mess anyway it won’t make a difference.
I know how hard it’s going to be to set an alarm and actually get out of bed when it goes off.
But I also know I can do this.
I’m tired of being a mess.