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Getting Heavy, Literally

I’m about to whine a lot about my body, gaining weight, losing weight, and my issues with weight, so if that kinda thing is gonna bother you or make you uncomfortable might I suggest you stop reading after this first paragraph and come back another day.  Doesn’t mean I love ya any less if you do that. First though, I went to a real doctor last night who was appalled by the fact that I’ve been sick for six weeks.  He prescribed me two new drugs to add to my growing collection and if they don’t work I need to go back for xrays and blood tests.  Whomp, whomp.  I’m now taking a prescription steroid (MethylPREDNISolone) a variation of Prednisone, which for all you SMASH fans is what Ivy was taking in this weeks ep with all the fun side effects, yay, and an antibiotic.  Apparently the inflammation in my nasal cavity and ears was too much for the antibiotic to work effectively, so the steroid is to help that.  Fun stuff.

Anyway, that doctor’s appointment is what sent me spiraling down the stairs of self-hatred and depression because I had to get weighed.  I haven’t been on a scale since my hospital visit last Memorial Day, and I try to keep it that way because of the effect it has on me. Well yesterday, I was 10 lbs up from that weight, bringing me up a total of 25ish from where I was in 2009.  That means every single pound I worked hard to lose three years ago has crept back onto my body, and I’m not ok with that. Now, for some photo comparison.

2009, about 1 month before I starting trying to lose weight. Excuse the douchey ex bf pic, photos from that time are hard to come by since I um, deleted them all.

Then, about 8 months later, post training for a 10 mile race and a break-up that devastated me, here I am 25 lbs thinner.

Sept. 2009 at what was probably my lowest weight

It’s not attainable for me, at all to be at that weight again, and probably not too healthy either, and I only had about 1 pair of pants that weren’t too big, but there I am.

August 2010, where I'd like to be

That’s about a year and 8lbs heavier, and where I’d like to be.  Those jeans haven’t really fit me since I moved to VA and it makes me cry.

Feb. 2012

And finally last month in Wisconsin, and about where I am now. And well the picture I posted yesterday was from Wednesday. I like to think I don’t look the same at all as I do in the picture from Jan. 2009, but I don’t really know.  I had previously accepted the fact that I’d gained weight since our trip to Jamaica, and I tend to hold it in my ass and thighs and my paints are tight.  My waist measurement has gone up about an inch and a half as well though.

After last night’s doctors appointment I got home and went for an hour and fifteen minute walk/run just to calm myself. I covered about 4.8 miles and instantly felt slightly better.  I have huge issues with restriction that started way back in high school and have reared their ugly head in college and post-grad, and all night I fought the thoughts in my head telling me to alternately skip dinner/drown my sorrows in a bag of chips. It’s a struggle and I don’t like feeling like this crazy person controlled by a number and food.  The truth is, for the past two weeks I’ve been really on track with nutrition and working out, I eat my cereal for breakfast, enjoy a sandwich and yogurt for lunch, sometimes a Z-bar before or after a workout and a normal dinner.  Last week dinner was a piece of chicken and some rice, this week it’s been chicken and pasta and chicken and a sweet potato.

Back when I was at the weight I’d like to be I was running 3-4 days a week and working out for six, so I guess that’s what I need to start doing again.  I realize I’ve but on a significant amount of muscle in this last year, which I know contributes to the scale jump, but I’m still not happy.  If you stop reading 300 words ago, that’s cool, but I really just need to write about this shit or I drive myself insane in my own head.

Sorry for the downer Friday post, maybe I’ll try to make up for it over the weekend.