I finished my last workout of Phase 2, Week 1 today and I gotta say, after six straight days of workouts I am REALLY looking forward to my rest day tomorrow!
Like I said here, it’s becoming more and more imperative to me that I give myself credit for my accomplishments.
This week was challenging. With the Adorables out of town, I switched my workouts to 6 a.m., and the workouts changed and became more complex. I had to start new on figuring out minimum weights for things I hadn’t done before, and work through the frustration of not being able to lift as much doing a different exercise. The supersets made even my normal weight feel more difficult and today especially, I was sweating like a pig!
But I stuck to my goals without letting life pass me by. I had flavored almonds at the NBA game last night, laughed my butt off all night, and cooked a delicious healthy breakfast this morning when I really wanted to just say forget it and eat a moons over my hammy at Denny’s. I am going out with some friends tonight, friends I would normally drink with, to a place I would normally drink at, and it doesn’t even phase me that I won’t be drinking.
Last night, matter of fact, as I watched people around me who were drinking, I found myself so happy that I wasn’t. This experience has really opened my eyes to how easy it is to become dependent on alcohol in social settings. It’s almost as if there isn’t an option NOT to drink when everyone else is. Tonight will definitely be a social experiment, as I have never gone out in a setting such as this one without drinking right along with everyone else. I’m actually pretty excited to blog about my findings.
(Did I just use the word findings?)
To celebrate the end of my first week, I decided to post what I consider to be the worst picture of the old me. Not worst because of the picture, necessarily, but worst because when I look at this, I remember how heavy I felt mentally and physically. This was taken a few weeks before my second daughter was born, after I promised myself I wouldn’t overdo it again like the last pregnancy. I would watch my food, continue to exercise, and make good choices. I didn’t.
It is hard to believe that six weeks after this photo, after a c-section, I was back in the gym walking on the treadmill at 245 lbs and it was the beginning of the new and improved me. Yes, all those stretch marks are still there, though not as pronounced, obviously. Yes, the loose skin that is inevitable when you gain that much weight, is still tucked into my jeans. But I rarely see that look on my face anymore.
(side note: people ask me often, men especially, if it embarasses me to post these pictures. Of course it doesn’t. BOTH of these people are very much me. While I might be a smaller version of this person, the struggles she had are still there, losing weight and feeling more confident just gave me the mental energy to deal with life better.)
And not seeing that look on my face anymore is the only form of celebration I need that I made it through another week of workouts, and one week closer to my goal!