Walk the Nine

This morning, I cried.

I cried on my Coaches.

I cried, because yesterday, I tried to qualify why I was eating eggs and berries for every meal. And last week, I questioned why I wasn’t licking the icing off the spoon from the cake I was baking. I cried because I wondered why I can’t just have a piece of garlic bread, and how much carnage can a tiny cube of cheese really do. I ask myself, is there life outside of water? And who’s gonna know if I have one donut? Or, even simpler, a splash of creamer in my coffee.

I know all the answers to these questions. Because today, right now, in this program – I don’t get to try “everything in moderation”. I spent almost 40 years trying that on for size until it ravaged my body, and I lost control. Now, I have to dial back the damage. I have to stop “eating everything in moderation” until I learn how to eat within limitations, and then grant myself the permission to see if I can eat without gorging, without bloating, without over-indulging. I have to relearn the mechanics of food. And can I?

I sure the fuck can.

This program has taught me discipline through reward. I have scrimped and avoided, and conquered, and created for the last two months. Tomorrow, I lean into Week 10.

Cardio doesn’t have to be treadmills. It can be a two hour walk around the corn maze, followed by apple picking with my girls.

And “treat meals don’t have to be pizza. In fact, growing confident in the program has given me the incentive to learn how and when to take my treat meals. It’s taught me the maintenance my body requires after a turkey meal this size. The eggs and I berries I ate yesterday? A natural, lean way to get my stomach back on course.

Might I add – if you’re still not sold on Greek yogurt, try the Mio flavour water trick. Having cherry yogurt and banana for snack has saved the live long day.

Food this week:

I messaged Jan first. And then my sisters. And my person. I messaged them. And I used curse words, and tearful words, and singy-songy silly words. Obnoxious words. I could feel the words come out of my like word vomit, as I splayed my success onto the lives of my support team.

As Week 9 folds to a close, I have annihilated my first goal. To see the scale shimmy down to 200lbs. I wanted to know what the 100s look like again. And today, I hit that milestone. Today, I weighed in at 200lbs, officially 30lbs down. A total 4.75″ off my bust, 11 inches off my midsection, and 7″ off my hips.

When you’re ready to commit to yourself, you will. When you give yourself permission to fuck up and fail, you’ll reward yourself with success. When you’re prepared to tackle bowel movements that don’t make sense, or your head pounds and you can’t figure out why since you’ve had buckets of water. When you start to give yourself the flexibility to be irritable, because change is scary and different and hard and intimidating then you’ll be ready to jump in with both feet. Because you deserve it. You have to be your best friend. You have to be the one responsible for your own happiness. It doesn’t lie in anyone else, but you. And that’s the most we have control over. Everything else is consequence and circumstance.

So choose you.

— c ☆

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