I talked about my weight again this week at The Stir. Weight-talking is apparently my new thing. How many times can I awkwardly tell you how much I weigh? Turns out, many times! So, if you read my post over there or follow along with the MamaPop Biggest Loser Challenge, you'll know I've lost 19 pounds since January 1st.
(Whoo, right?!)
The last few months have been so normal. Or, at least what I always imagined normal weight-loss to be like. I've worked out, eaten less, pushed myself outside of my comfort zone by running, cooking interesting and healthier things, and replacing all that champagne with water (fine, Diet Coke). I've become more conscious of what I eat and why and I actually enjoy sweating off the stress of the day (ahem, most of the time). This is how you lose weight, no-brainer information, I know. But. Well. See. I've never really lost weight normally, without hang-ups or obsessions or full-blown throwing up my meals in empty parking lots because my mom took the locks off the bathroom door.
I can joke about eating disorders, that's how distanced I am from my own, but it still makes losing weight normally and healthily such a damn novelty to me. I think that's the coolest part of all this: I'm actually doing this the right way, without going crazy along the way. See, it really isn't about being skinny. I've been skinny. I've been really skinny. I've been intervention-from-people-who-care-about-me skinny. I know what losing weight and being skinny feels like, but I usually let it cost me my sanity.
For a long time my sanity seemed like such a small price to pay.
I'm finally doing something I've always wanted to do: I'm losing weight but keeping myself.
I run my first 5K next weekend and although I'm just terrified -- will I be able to do it without stopping? will I enjoy it? WILL MY LUNGS POP OUT MY MOUTH AND RUN OFF? -- I'm also proud, thrilled, humbled.
There's only one person I'll run for next weekend and that's the girl who spent six years trying to hang onto a waist size even if it killed her, who actually thought it killing her would prove she was good at it. The girl who didn't care about the words "healthy" or "strong" or "goals" and only cared about the word "thin." Maybe the words "too thin," actually. She was lost and she was broken and she was crazy, and she finally deserves someone doing something just for her, even if it's seven years too late.