Failure is most definitely an option.

Well, I had my first official Couch-to-5K FAIL today when I attempted day three of the training. As I mentioned yesterday, Fridays are days off for me, so getting up at 4:50 or 5:00 to go run was just probably never going to happen. Especially since the Heat/Spurs game went so late, and my brother is visiting with his girlfriend and I just didn't want to go to bed and miss out on everything.

I look so cute after exercise.

This morning I woke up (or was woken up by my brother pounding on my door and yelling at me to get up) at 8:15, and around 9:15, I decided to just go do it, regardless of how hot and humid it was outside. So I drove to the hospital to do my training around the pretty trail.

It was only 85 degrees when I started, and I made it through all the walk/run intervals until 55 seconds into running spurt number 7. And then my will to keep pushing myself just disintegrated. I felt like I was going to throw up, it was miserably hot, the sun was beating right down on me, and I just quit. I started walking, and walked through the final running spurt as well. At the time, I felt like I just could NOT keep going, and I resigned myself to it. I had pushed myself through running spurts 3 through 6 even though I wanted to quit then, too, but by the 7th 60-second run, I lost all motivation. I quit with 65 second of running remaining. Really, Me? Really???

Sigh. On the drive home, I decided to get my elliptical trainer back from one of my other brothers (I sold it to him a year ago, but he never uses it), because I am obviously a failure at running. Now that I've cooled off and the nausea his dissipated, I know I shouldn't just throw in the towel so easily, but I do think that having the elliptical would be nice. I can exercise more often, and from the comfort of my air conditioned home.

My body feels like jelly, and it's worse than how I felt on days one and two. Even my wrists and fingers hurt. Does the heat and humidity really make that much of a difference? Then again, I only did like two half-hearted stretches before I left the house.

The jury is out on what I'm gonna do. I guess I should just attempt day three again on Sunday, but this time do it before the sun comes up and conspires to kill me. Do I sound whiny enough? Cause I can try harder if I need to...

Good Stuff:
There are a few teeny victories to report today. First, I lost one of the three pounds that I gained when I started exercising! I was surprised to see that, too, because I felt like yesterday sucked eating-wise. My coworkers begged me to go out to lunch with them to this new, overpriced restaurant, and even though I was careful and ordered a salad, I ate too much. I had a few chips with guacamole before the salad came, ate almost my entire salad and half the dressing, and then I had four bites of a skillet cookie with ice cream that someone ordered because they hate me. Oh my word, it was delicious. After those four bites, I covered my dessert spoon with salt so I wouldn't take any more.

Another good thing is that I've been tracking the workouts I've been doing in my SparkPeople app, and today I saw that I've burned 1,103 calories exercising this week. For some reason, that made me so excited! I think it would be fun to challenge myself with a weekly calories burned total. It seems a lot more motivational than just tracking how many workouts I do.

I'm off to do something inspirational now, like watch episodes of Extreme Weight Loss... I need a little pick-me-up in the motivation department right now.

The Weightness Protection Program

Yesterday while at work, I received a panicked call from my best friend. She wanted me to go on facebook and check to see if a picture of her had been posted (she doesn’t do facebook). One of her relatives had taken a picture of her and posted it to their page, and my friend received a text message about it, and was horrified (seriously, close to hyperventilating). Like me, she doesn’t let people post pictures of her on social media sites, because she has gained a significant amount of weight over the last few years, and doesn’t want certain people to know, or to judge her.

I did my best to calm her, assured her she looked fine in the pic (she really did), then proceeded to do what any true friend would—I attempted to hack into the facebook account of the person who posted it, so I could delete it for her. Unfortunately, my attempts were unsuccessful (and I don’t have Kim Kardashian’s number), so now anyone who has seen the photo knows that my friend isn’t a size 4 anymore. She’s emotionally devastated.

This story probably seems a tad melodramatic to anyone who has never struggled with their weight, but to someone who has, I’m betting it’s pretty relatable. Similar scenarios have played out in my own life more times than I care to admit. I went into my Dad’s facebook over Christmas—hey, he left his iPad lying around—to delete several horribly unflattering photos he posted of me without make-up, in mismatched pajamas and at my highest weight EVER, so I completely understand the oh-my-gosh-someone-posted-a-fat-pic-of-me-I-am-going-to-DIE-OF-HUMILIATION feeling.

Since I’ve gained 80 pounds in the last two years, the last thing on earth that I want is for my out-of-state friends, relatives or old boyfriends to see that I have let myself get to my present state of hugeness. I only want to be seen by friends and acquaintances when I look gorgeous and trim, so I’ve avoided events and gatherings of all kinds. I’ve even been scared of my boyfriend proposing (!) because I can’t imagine having engagement or wedding photos of me at this size.

SERIOUSLY?

Why am I living like this? Why am I in constant fear whenever I go out of my house, terrified that a few extremely shallow former guy friends of mine might see me? Why do I refuse to go to events where I might run into someone I haven’t seen in two years? Why am I skipping vacations to visit cousins and aunts I adore, simply because I can’t bear for them to see what I’ve let my body become?

Those questions are a big part of the reason that I decided enough was enough, and made the decision to lose this weight once and for all. I got to the point where my weight was totally controlling my life, and I was serving a self-inflicted prison sentence that only made me rely even more on food for solace and comfort.  

Well. I’m tired of living in my own personal Weightness Protection Program. I’m tired of being afraid of events and people and gossip and Instagram posts. I'm tired of being miserable. I deserve to live a full, happy, healthy life, and this debilitating cycle of overeating, shame and fear is not going to be what drives every decision I make.

I’m officially coming out of hiding. Join me?