April 30th was my two year anniversary of the day I decided to get fit. I had big plans for the month of April:
- I was going to weigh 150lbs.
- I was going to be in the best shape of my life.
- I was going to run a marathon.
None of these things happened because little did I know, I was no longer going to have a mother. Just four short days after my half-marathon on October 4th, my mother became ill. She was already ill–heart disease, kidney failure, dialysis, but she became hospital-ill. In January, she became gravely ill. A month later, she passed away. And it was awful. All of it.
I am a binge eater. A stress eater. An emotional eater. A drinker. Bad, bad combo. From October-January, I ate a little extra. When I came to visit my mother at least once a week, I would also visit my favorite restaurant and order a burger and booze. On occasion. Infrequently. Once in a while. I put on a few pounds, but no big deal.
In February, my world blew up. I dealt with her death well. I stayed composed when everyone else crumbled. I made arrangements. I printed pictures for the tribute table. I made a video slide show. I composed a beautiful obituary. I contacted family members. I lovingly chose the last outfit my mother would ever wear. I sifted through jewelry, found her dentures, located her glasses. I chose flowers, signed papers, wrote thank you cards, and closed bank accounts.
I barely got to say goodbye.
There was no still, quiet moment with a single streaming tear in a solemn room alone with the woman who gave me life.
There was just busyness followed by emptiness.
To ease the pain, I drank. A lot. And I ate. A lot. I binge-ate, binge-drank, and binge-watched Grey’s Anatomy reruns. As a result, I don’t feel any better and I certainly don’t look any better. I have gained about 40lbs (I’m TOTALLY guessing because I refuse to get on the scale). I’ve been getting back into the swing of things. Running or hiking a local trail after school, body-weight strength training, and eating the proper amount of calories.
So far, it’s been hit or miss. I’m on the wagon a few days or a few weeks, and then I tumble off that sucker for a week or so and go hog wild (emphasis on the “hog”).
I did take measurements about 2 weeks ago, and I have lost inches, so that’s good. That’s motivating. Writing about this is also motivating, not to mention therapeutic. Once I work up the nerve to get on the scale, I’m sure watching those numbers go down will be motivating as well.
I have set new goals for the summer and fall of 2015:
- Run a 10k
- Run a 13.1
- Run a marathon in October.
Goals are good. Goals keep a person going. Goals give me something to focus on. School will be out soon, and I plan to spend my summer running and getting back into the best shape of my life! :)
Where I was two years ago:
Approximately where I am now:
Where I want to be: