Well, these last few weeks have been tough on me.  Those of you who have known me for any length of time, know that I fight with my weight on a daily basis and have done so, since I was 11 years old.

It’s been a long time.

It’s been a long fight and I’ve almost given up on numerous occasions…most recently being only a matter of weeks ago…

Graduation, which will be three years ago this December, I looked like this;

I was 245lbs (or, for you UK people, 17.5stone).  I was miserable, I’d lived in the US for 6 months (joined weight watchers the week after I arrived!) and I couldn’t shake a single lb (though I also managed not to gain).

Last year, after 9 futile months of seemingly banging my head against a brick wall (I tried weight watchers, slimming world, Atkins etc), I decided something drastic needed doing as my wedding was fast approaching and I wasn’t liking what I saw in the mirror, (when I forced myself to do so) and I felt big.  My muscles and joints ached, I couldn’t climb a flight of stairs without getting winded and walking from the house to the car in 100 degree Texas heat all but killed me.

It was time to do something about it!

I worked extremely hard, lost 32lbs/just over 2 stone and walked down the aisle feeling fantastic at a ‘lowest in about 4 or 5 year’ personal best at 213lbs. (Any excuse to show off my fab wedding pics again, eh?)

I was lighter than I’d ever been, I was doing water aerobics 3-5 times a week and I could take a flight of stairs in my stride without doubling over to rasp for breath!

My waist line had started to come back, my double (triple) chin had gone back from whence it came and I had shrunk from an XL-XXL top size to a Med (on occasion Large) and from a size 24 trouser, to 18 (US sizes!)

In short, I felt fantastic! I was riding the momentum of success, the determination to keep going beyond my wedding and I was doing well.  Really well.

Then I got sick, just a few weeks after the wedding.  I guess the stress of everything that went on really did a number on me and a couple of weeks before Christmas last year, I ended up in surgery.

They told me that because I was young, I’d bounce back quickly and I’d not need to drastically alter my diet as a result of having my gall bladder out and they were right.

However, a combination of recovery, my gall bladder being gone and falling out of the routine of exercise – these last 8 months I’ve not only fallen off the wagon (not so much diet wise, but without the exercise, having my diet under control means very little!) but I’ve started to climb back up the ladder towards where I first started.

In 9 months, since the wedding, I gained all but 10 (ish) lbs of what I’d lost back.  Only three weeks ago, I was sitting at 235lbs.

Ouch.

(Man this disclosing is pretty damn tough when it’s in front of you in black and white!)

I’ve felt it for a while now, creeping back on, the darkness accompanying it.  But the last month, maybe two, it’s been worse than normal.  I’ve been back to my self-hating, wearing baggy T-shirts, putting myself down (which, I used to do all the time but had lessened a lot for a while there!), being self conscious, insecure and randomly bursting into tears to Col cause I’m so unhappy with not just how I look, but moreso, for the first time ever – how I FEEL.

Until now, I’d mostly only ever cared how I looked.  But now, I’m at the point that I’m starting to feel it when I climb stairs again, even simple exercise left me exhausted and I, with 100% certainty, can say that I feel every ounce of the weight I have gained since our wedding in October…

It’s no secret that we’re trying to get pregnant, if I’m this big now, being pregnant would only increase that – and I’m sure my short stature wouldn’t be overly thrilled if I asked it to carry an extra 20-40lbs of pregnancy weight.  Add that to the other potential complications, heart trouble, gestational diabetes, making a pregnancy potentially dangerous for both me and the child?

It makes me angry at myself.  Disappointed in myself, that I let it all slip so far back down the ladder of progress.  That I could put Colin in a position that, if/when we eventually DO get pregnant that I could somehow jeopardise the safety of me and our child by letting things slide.

I had to draw a line.  I was sinking deeper into depression and decided that it was most definitely time to get back in to exercise.

Coincidentally, my friend Sally had been trying to get me to try some of her workout classes for a while, but I’d always put it off.

Procrastination, it’s a dangerous thing.  Sometimes you just have to say f*ck it and bull-forward.

A few weeks ago, I decided desperation had reached an all time high and it was time to force myself to go.

I committed to going.

I lasted through the 30 minute core ‘CX30’ class and barely made it out of the 1 hour cardio ‘Body Attack’ class alive.  But I did it.  I hurt like a b*tch, but it was a good hurt, the kind that made me feel like I was doing something about it.

Last week, before heading to Iowa, I weighed in at 231.  Down 4lbs in 2 weeks after only increasing my exercise from zero, to 3 hours a week for two weeks.

It’s started to work.

In Iowa, I just went to the gym once, but this week I’ve committed to not one, but two Body Attack classes (oh my LORD!! SAVE ME!) and I’ve already done an hour session in the gym where I beat my last week’s ‘mile’ time by trying out a new technique that Amber suggested when we worked out last week (of running/pushing yourself during the chorus of whatever song you’re listening to on your ipod).  It worked.

Phew.

These kinds of posts are difficult for me, I’m an emotional person and I don’t like admitting weakness or defeat.

This came close to defeating me.

Too close.

If it wasn’t for three very special women I’d have given up on fighting the good fight.

Magz – my dietician friend, who is supporting me every step of the way (when she eats pizza, I eat pizza!  and when she eats ice cream, I eat ice cream! LOL!)  She’s helpful with dietary questions for sure, but more than that she’s like a little cheer leader pushing me on from the sidelines…I’m kinda glad she’s pregnant though cause I’m sure she’d physically push me in class if she could go too!

Emily – my ‘a few months ago I couldn’t run a mile but am now registered to do the Houston half marathon’ friend.  What an inspiration, and, again, a wonderful cheerleader.  A little more excitable than Magz (especially when she’s had caffeine), her energy is infectious.  She’s supportive and gives advice without sounding preachy or holier than thou and she swears she is a sweaty mess when she works out, but I’m pretty sure that’s a big ole fib – she looks a million quid every single time I see her!

Last but not least, my fitness instructor friend Sally – she didn’t push me to go to her classes, just gave me the information and let me come to her.  She’s just the right amount of positive and peppy in her classes…you know how some fitness instructors are so peppy that even though you feel like you’re about to die in class, you’d still find the energy to slap them silly just to shut them and their over-peppy up?

Sally isn’t like that.  She’s motivational, inspirational and whether I go to her class or someone else’s, she’s just an advocate for healthy living and getting a decent portion of exercise – regardless of what kind of exercise it is.

SSA ladies and Houston readers, you should really check out her classes!

I’m starting to feel better, the exercise makes you happy/endorphin release thing isn’t a myth.  It helps me through the burn for days after a class/workout.  I’m determined that I’ll not only get back to my 213 low, but I’ll get to my all-time low of 185 – and soon.

I will do it.

I have wonderful support from my Charlies Angels cheerleaders, Col loves me just as I am and doesn’t see a need for me to change but he understands that I’m unhappy and me? Well I’ve found a renewed determination that this is not going to beat me.

I WILL fit back into the clothes I was wearing 4 or 5 months ago.

I WILL continue to keep up at least 3 hours of exercise a week.

I WILL accept that sometimes we all fail, crash and burn and need help.

and finally I WILL continue to learn to love myself as I am…so when I improve and get to where I want to be, I’ll not have to start from the beginning!

Wish me luck folks – it’s a long and bloody hard mountain to climb and demon to slay…