Skip to main content

Losing weight is like a day at the beach...

So the other day as I was running along in my neighborhood – my brain was spinning in its usual 1,000 directions. Anything but thinking about the physical torture I was putting myself through. One of the spinning topics were this picture: Losing weight is like a day at the beach. You look around, the sun is shining, the surf is calm, people are laying around in swimsuits just relaxing and enjoying themselves. But your beach chair, your swim suit, your cooler of beach refreshments are all buried under the sand…and you’re faced with a choice. Live life on top of the sand – a little uncomfortable and with the knowledge of all that awaits you if you DO the work … or just do the work. Shovel the sand. Reach your goal. But it’s not easy. You dig and dig and you rarely take time to step back and recognize the progress you’ve made. You only know that you haven’t reached your goal. That the chaise lounge, the fuzzy warm towel, the tropical drinks…they’re all below where you are. And you can’t stop digging. The sand will collapse, you feel like you’ll end up right back where you started. Maybe even worse like in the past. You NEVER get a break. You’re not even sure you’ll be able to stop digging once you reach your goal. That terrifies me.


I’m on ‘vacation’ right now. My husband’s business has a booth at the Portland Swap Meet every year and we come down here, hang out, work, and generally have a nice time. It’s no “vacation” in traditional terms but it is not our usual chaos. My ‘vision’ was based on the fact that I had to pack for 4 days away from home. Clean underpants for the duration and the usual assortment of clothes for spring in the Northwest (that means a little of everything – and layers – lots of layers). But now – since I’m trying to get healthy, since I’m training for the half marathon – it means a LOT more. I have to pack all my running stuff. I have to pack a cooler full of foods I can eat. And I have to pack willpower by the ton.

It starts with a 4 hour road trip. And I brought some Laughing Cow light cheese and crackers, some apples, carrots, and bread thins sandwich makings. And I said a little prayer that I could avoid ‘road food’ and the insatiable munchies that represent a road trip. I also packed some other food to try and save money and stay on the healthy track while spending 12+ hours a day at a venue with only fair food. Burgers, fries, pretzels, kettle corn, chocolate covered ice cream, and bratwurst – OH MY!! ALL my favorite foods (at outrageous prices) and no way to go anywhere else for food.

So my vision was stress induced, but accurate. I wish I were in the position to just call “truce” for a short time; to just stop digging for a few days and relax on the beach. But that scares me too much. I’m scared that if I let up for even a day that all my progress will just *poof* be gone. And I WANT my chaise lounge – my fuzzy towel – my damn tropical drink. I want to lay back and enjoy the accomplishment.

But I’m not there yet. I’m still digging. And I may lay down my shovel a little bit this weekend. But I won’t give up. I can’t. There’s a chair on the beach with my name on it!! Who’s going to meet me there??!

TTFN,

LauraLynne

Comments

Sandy said…
That is such a great post. I had never thought of it that way but it makes so much sense. Hope you get the lounger first. Or maybe the cold drink. Or maybe...

Keep strong-and think of all the money you will save by not getting that Bratwurst!

Popular posts from this blog

day 1 no sugar...again.... and finding an OA meeting

Today I read a blog that really finally pushed me over the edge.  In a good way.  I NEED OA.  I went to the meetings with my church group, got started, really had some good break throughs, but I can't do this on my own.  I need to quit dinking around and find a meeting to go to.  It won't be a quick fix, but I'm really struggling with the food addiction part on my own.  And recently I've been lecturing a friend about their husband's addiction.  His addiction is gambling - and he's stooped to stealing from family it's that bad.  And he goes to meetings but - as she tells me - they don't HAVE 12 steps there, it's "too complicated with all the religion stuff."  So I've been preaching the 12 step program to her...hypocritical of me since I haven't followed through on my own meetings.  Today I find a meeting and by this time next week, I will attend a meeting. I am powerless over sugar.  Last night after I blogged about day whatever ...

PHEW - She's a Brick....hoooouse....no, wait.

Ok.  So tonight I planned on running.  Came home, sat down for  little while.  Forced myself to get up and put on my running clothes.  Went out the front door...was NOT feeling it.  Came back inside disppointed.  Sat down.  Got up, changed shoes, pulled out the spinner (stationary bike) and put a scary movie on.  Biked for 1 hour 3 minutes.  about 1 hour 2 min. in I decided I was going to put in a mile run afterwards - in triathalon training it's called a "brick".  It's meant to simulate the transition from one event to another.  From swim to bike or from bike to run.  Doing a brick teaches you just how it feels - in this case my legs were JELLO from the biking.  But I ran.  One mile.  in 12 min. 42 seconds - not too shabby!!  But better than that - I broke my streak of "nothing".  And I had a good dinner, one piece of flatbread pizza and a large tomato salad (no pictures, sorry).  About 200...

Yes, I'd like some cheese with my whine!!

I'm so frustrated.  No matter what I do, the nagging binging voice will not go away.  I feel like I struggle with it more than 'normal'.  This IS addiction.  I recognize that.  And sometimes I win the battle, I silence the voice.  But lately, and especially after this weekend, the voice is loud and obnoxious.  And convincing.  Today it was a box of Fiddle Faddle.  I mean come on.  Not even chocolate.  Fiddle Faddle.  I don't really even LIKE Fiddle Faddle, not really.  But that was part of the binge.  At least I wasn't binging on something I love.  That makes it ok, right?  Jeez.  I see progress on the scale - at least mostly.  And I'm wearing smaller sizes.  And I friggin' ran SEVEN MILES tonight.  Could I have done that in December?  Not even with a gun to my head.  Then why can't I feel proud.  Feel progress.  Feel the effort?? I'm frustrated.  All of this fe...