I bet you're wondering how Operation Swimsuit is going. You're probably sitting there right now with your coffee in one hand and your leftover Halloween candy in the other, and pondering the vagaries of my most recent weight loss endeavor.
That's probably for the best, because here is where I have to admit that I'm not doing well. I haven't substantially gained any weight, so I guess that's the positive. I went another week without running at all, however. And the Halloween candy has got. to. go. I can't stop myself. Why is it magic candy that I must eat? Because it's there? No. I don't know. Maybe. And it's like a gateway drug. After I have that then I want more. More candy. Apple cider, caramel popcorn, cereal, cookies. Anything.
In some way or another, anyone who is overweight probably has a disordered relationship with food. I'm no different. I find that the more I try to restrict, write everything down, control what I'm eating, the more I spiral out of control. The more people know I'm dieting, the more I want to sneak eat. And I can't really explain why I didn't run for a week, but it seemed reactionary to the reduced food intake and the previous week where I exercised every day and twice on Saturday (true!).
So what is the answer? I've contemplated the intuitive eating concept, but I think I'm skeptical it will work for me. Intuitively I overeat. More exercise? I don't think there is much more exercise than marathon training, and that certainly hasn't worked. Different exercise? Weight training? Resistance training? Crossfit? Boot camp? Yoga?
I don't know if I'm setting myself up to fail, or if I'm just not trying hard enough. There are other things going on in my life that are a struggle right now, and that's certainly not helping. I eat my feelings. It's not an excuse, and it's bad behavior, but there it is. When I'm happy I celebrate with food. When I'm sad or angry I swallow it with food. (Actually, I'm not so good at swallowing those emotions--I'm more volcanic--but I try to swallow it.)
The fact of the matter is that weight loss is hard. It requires actual hard work, every day, all day. You have to focus on it. You have to keep at it. And you have to be really, really determined. There are days when I feel strong, when I know I can do this. That I have done it, so I can do it. But then there are all the other days. The ones with a difficult work situation, or a stressful inter-personal conflict. The ones where it's dark when you leave for work and dark when you get home, where you get snow trickling down inside your boot, or where your husband meets you at the door with a frown and a "What did you do with the..?" And all of my strength is fractured. You might not be able to fix any of the things that are going on, but you can medicate yourself.
The truth is that food does make me feel better. I feel happier, probably because of the blood sugar bump, or maybe it's just comforting. Soothing. If I could figure out a way to do that that didn't involve food, I'd be set. Er, as long as it wasn't alcohol, drugs, or cigarettes.
This post is kind of a downer and I'm not really sure how to turn that around, so I'll probably just end here. Every new day is a new opportunity. I'm going to try to do better tomorrow. That's all I can do, right?