Depressed

I've had a hard time writing lately. Mainly because what I'm about to talk about, I don't want to admit. There's also this unnecessary pressure I feel to not put out the negative energy I'm probably going to with this post. However, I have to remember that ultimately this blog is for me, not you. I have to be honest with myself or else I'm going to keep making the progress I deserve.
 
Since the winter storm hit in Oklahoma several weeks ago, I've not been working out, keeping track of my diet or doing what's ultimately necessary to get the results I want. At first, it came from the challenge of being at home and making excuses for myself on why I couldn't exercise or eat right for one reason or another. While there was plenty of processed sweets and canned meats in the pantry to blame, ultimately I'm the person who chose to put them in my mouth. As the week progressed, I knew I had been making the wrong choices, but I continued on in this fashion. When the storm's effect had finally lifted to the point where I could go to the gym again, another two weeks, I had found that my motivation to go had suddenly dried up. At first, I thought it would be kindled by seeing my friend, LaRhonda at her big reveal. I got to talk to Chris Powell, host of Extreme Makeover: Weight Loss Edition, after the taping.

I told Chris all my plans. What was going right and wrong. I told him that lately I had been struggling. He told me that the habits I was trying to develop needed to be developed slowly. That I was trying to do too much too soon. I told him that all I wanted to do was develop three habits: 1 Go to bed at 10, 2.Be ready to go to the gym by 7 AM. 3.Go to the gym 2 hours daily. Chris told me that since I was struggling with developing these habits, I should focus on one goal at a time. He said good habits have to be built up like any muscle. I hadn't really thought of it that way. I guess I felt like three habits were just fine to start with, but maybe I was trying to swing a 75 pound dumbbell around without even knowing it.
Still in a funk the next day. Didn't work out. Still ate the wrong things.
I looked in the mirror and I had to ask myself what was wrong. At the time, I didn't have an answer, and then it finally creeped up on me after a nice long nap. I must be depressed. I had gotten back to staying in my room and sleeping all day. I was lethargic and angry/sad all the time. I was having a lot of negative thoughts and feelings. Honestly, I probably didn't notice it because it had been my natural state for so long that it felt familiar. Then, last night, I got to talk to another hero of mine. Scott Smith, Chief Motivating Officer at Motivationtomove.com

Scott Smith, for those who don't know, has the number one fitness podcast in the world. He had a very matter of fact moment with me during a live call in session he was having. I had told him about my current situation. I was depressed, I hadn't been eating right or exercising, etc. Scott basically told me that reaching my goal of getting under 500 by June was not reachable. He told me this to relieve me of the pressure I was putting on myself. Frankly, I think he's wrong. Maybe accepting that I can't reach 60 pounds in the next few months would take the pressure off, but it still wouldn't make him right. I know what the problem is. I know that I haven't been taking my diet all that seriously. I graze and eat late at night. I eat processed, sodium filled pre-fried foods. I choose not to work out on days when I'd just be on the treadmill. Then I weigh myself and I'm happy with a three pound loss. I have not been bringing my A game. But Scott did tell me something which did strike a chord. He told me that I wasn't doing this for my brother's wedding. I was doing this to save my own life. I know that. I've always known that. It's just that it's hard to face. THAT is the kind of pressure I don't want to deal with. I have to focus on the small goal ahead of me.

Along the inside of the indoor track at my gym, there are pillars. When I walk along the track, and I start to get fatigued, I tell myself that I only need to make it back around to the pillar I started. As long as I keep my eye on it. Picture myself finishing strong, I always make it. If I'm distracted and start thinking about how much pain I'm in. How my legs fall asleep when I'm walking because of poor circulation. I fail. I can't think about my own death. I need to just focus on my pillar. Sam's wedding. I can make it. If not 60 pounds, then 40. My first ten percent.

I'm still depressed, but I think the only person who can do anything about it right now is me. I'm going to take my St. John's Wart and Fish oil. I'm going to weigh myself at the gym, and I'm going to start over. I've had an unusual week where I got to talk to several of my heroes. I celebrated my parent's 32nd anniversary. I've been filled with anxiety and guilt for a lot of that time. I'm choosing to focus on my future and how bright it can be. What I can't control, I have to surrender. But now is the time to pick myself off the floor and start moving again. It would just be nice to feel like I'm not doing it all by myself for once.