I tend to do really well with my eating habits and exercise routine when Lance is out to sea. I don't feel the pressure to make a big family meal when he would be away, I could get away with the most boring meals if I felt like having it, I stick to Weight Watchers religiously (great program, btw), and going to the gym was my way of making time pass quicker waiting on his return home. When he's around, though, I seriously get "comfortable" and lazy, and the upswing to my weight journey resumes.
Add the fact that we've been in an interesting predicament from March through the end of June, living in hotels and eating fast food every meal... needless to say I'm up there in my weight. Not my all time high, but the stupid "comfort" weight I seem to maintain when I gain. I've put on nearly twenty pounds since Christmastime, which is quite a lot of weight, especially little ole 5'2 me. Lance and I needed to start something about our mounting weight, especially since he is going to be home for quite a while now, so here I am making myself accountable!
We started P90X last Monday! Don't ask me why I added the exclamation mark, haha, I'm still not quite excited about it as Lance is, but I'm getting there. I guess :)
Last Monday, our Day 1, I weighed 156 pounds. Its taking quite a bit of courage to admit that here, I even finally admitted to Lance what I weigh (though I doubt it was a big secret). I don't carry it well - I have a terrible pear shape for being so short, making my size 10 (a few 12) pants awfully snug in my lovely thighs. My stomach is atrocious, and my arms are getting more giggly with age. The smallest I've ever been as an adult was 128 pounds, but that lasted all of like two hours, and I've never maintained anything lower than 140. I've always been rather chubby, and not only does it bring my confidence way down, but it affects me and my family in so many areas, and I'm tired of this self-loathing I always suffer through.
Today was the beginning of week 2, or Day 8, as well as our weigh in day. I lost 1.6 pounds, and Lance dropped 4.4. The first four days were torture for me, as I hadn't worked out in months and my muscles sure weren't used to it, but now I'm at the point where I have a "good" sore feeling. I can't keep up with the workouts really, but I'm trying my hardest to not get discouraged and modify what I can't keep up with. Tomorrow is plyometrics. Oh God. I cried last week, and Lance had to give me a pep talk once he found me hiding in the bathroom with the shower water running, drowning out my sobs.
Anyways… there's my weight journey confession. Today I decided to restart Weight Watchers, as I do love the program and it really does teach a person how to eat healthily for life (its the "for life" part I have a problem with). Working out with my husband does give me a good sense of accountability (especially since he has a buddy come over everyday for the workouts), and my post-partum sister in California is supposed to be starting too. Knowing I've written this post will give me that extra little nudge to follow this through, so wish me luck!
Only 82 more days to complete this program. Lance is already planning out what's next.