::honesty:it hurts sometimes::

Twenty-eight.

That's the number of pounds I've set to lose over the next few months. (This also happens to be the age I will be one month from today!) It seems like a lot. And I've put off posting this for a number of days because I am afraid of failure. What if I don't lose any? What if someone says something mean to me about my weight here? What if transparency is more painful than I planned? What if...?? Why am I sharing this intensely painful post with you here? Because accountability of some sort is good for me. I have an accountability partner that I meet with weekly who questions me about my struggles in this area, but it doesn't take long to get comfortable with that person and to not fight my areas of sin as forcefully. I thought by putting this out here (even though I only have like 3 readers anymore), it might make me work a little harder to be real and honest and to try.

I posted this on my Spark People page [[which...let me tell you is an invaluable resource. Even though I'm just starting out and getting used to it, I already can see how it would encourage someone to stay on track with health and fitness. Go for it. Look at my link on the right.]], to help give you some insight on why I'm making some changes. (I did add a few things here and there that are different from my original post.)

I am still learning the ins and outs of SparkPeople, but so far I'm impressed with how motivated I already feel.

Yesterday I began the program. I walked for 30 minutes, pushing my 24 lb. son in his stroller. Today I did the same but added some strength training. After walking, I did two sets of forward lunges--oh. my. My legs are trembling! How out of shape am I? [I also did some other reps of strength training exercises, as well.]

I used to be a runner (weren't we all?). I ran every day after classes or after work back in my college days. I ran in 100 degree weather in the summer. I never ran any less than 2 miles. I ran and ran. And I was in great shape, even though I didn't believe it at the time.

My weight had crept from 130ish (where my body type is most comfortable) to about 168 (yikes!) after 2 years of marriage. After two stressful years of infertility (make that 5 years now), the weight just piled on. I used eating as an out. It numbed the pain of something I couldn't control. Rather than go to my Lord or His Word for my comfort, I went to the other god of food, I am ashamed to say. Idolatry is at the heart of my problem here. How humbling is it to realize that I have worshiped food? It shames me to my core to write that.

In 2006, my husband and I started training for a half-marathon (13.1 miles). We trained for about 3 months and ran it at the end of April 2006. We did not make good time. My husband is a type 1 juvenile diabetic, and didn't handle the distance running as well as we thought he would. We ran the first 7 miles or so without stopping once. Once we started taking rests, it became extremely difficult to start back up. We ran, walked, jogged, crawled, bled, cried, etc., to the finish line. BUT, we did finish!

After recovering from that, my plan was to continue running because in all my training, the 5 mile run was my absolute favorite distance. I felt SO good after running 5 miles. But...my post-marathon recovery took a lot longer than planned because my toes were so bruised, I couldn't put my running shoes on. My muscles hurt tremendously for a couple of weeks, so
I only hit the pavement once or twice following that.

I toned my body some during that time, but I ate whatever I wanted during the training because I figured, "Hey, I'm running 8 miles in the morning. Who cares if I eat ice cream tonight?"

It didn't add up well.

By the end of 2006, I started counting calories and lost nearly 15 lbs. I kept most of it off, but I've been a yo-yo dieter for years. It comes off and goes back on (goes back on much more quickly, right?).

I slimmed down in 2007 for my sister's wedding simply by eating well and healthfully. I didn't have time to exercise much, but I felt that I did well in meeting my goal for that wedding. A year passed and I maintained somewhat. In the Spring of 2008, we were knee-deep in the adoption process, and the stress of it all had an opposite effect than what is typical for me. I couldn't eat or sleep! I lost a bit of weight, and did quite well until we had our son. Once I was at home all day every day and up all night every night, the weight crept back on. I know, I know: excuses, excuses!

Now, it's May 2009, and I am sick to death of my slavery to food. I need encouragement and accountability but can't really afford a program like Weight Watchers or a gym membership since we live on a ministry budget (my husband is a full-time pastor).

This is why SP seems to be a great program for me! There are plenty of strength training and cardio activities I can do at home without equipment.

Today has been great so far...and I know myself--I have to take it hour by hour sometimes. I long to see this 28 pounds disappear. Well, 26.6 pounds as of today.

Baby steps, right?
(end of post from my SP page)

I remember the first time someone told me I was fat. Well, fat wasn't the word used, but it was implied. I was about 9 years old, and I definitely was not fat. But, my friend at the time was one of those stick-thin people you secretly despise for their good genes and trouble-free eating habits. (To my knowldege, she is still stick-thin nineteen years later! It's taking gargantuan amounts of self-control not to covet her excellent metabolism here.) I remember distinctly that she called me "husky." And not in a good way. Not in a "your voice has that husky, raspy quality reminiscent of Norah Jones." It was a matter of fact "You're bigger than me. Not exactly fat. But not thin like me. Just bigger....husky, really."

Ouch. I can still feel the blood rushing to my face as a nine year old. Husky? Really? And it was at that point in my life that I began noticing and disliking the way I looked. And so began my battle with food. Because that was the thing which makes one fat or husky. But it was also the thing which didn't judge me, which tasted good, which was something I could control--or so I thought. What I didn't realize: I allowed it to control me.

I battled with my weight intensely throughout highschool and college. While in highschool I tended to fight it by skipping meals during the day only to overdo it at dinner each night. I was somewhat active at the time. I played softball, but that was about it. Looking back, I wasn't very overweight. Quite possibly only 25 pounds or so at the very most. Once I hit college, my life became ruled by the clock. Classes all morning, work all afternoon and early evening, activities and homework late at night. Sleep? Sometimes. Eat? Only when I had time. Coffee? Absolutely necessary every day!

College took my focus off of food. If I skipped meals, which I did often, I did it because I simply did not have time to eat. I dropped 25 pounds very quickly. In fact, I fairly certain I dipped into the 120's during my junior year, which is UNHEARD of for me. I do remember one thing, though. I was always hungry. I never ate enough, which is why I think my body is most comfortable at 130 or so. I didn't feel hungry all the time when I hit that weight, but I wasn't necessarily overweight, either. But, even at my lowest weight, I struggled so hard with my appearance. I constantly lived in my nine year old frame of thought: I'm fat.

I remember the first time I really talked about the constant battle in my mind with food and body image. It was with a guy I was dating at the time (and the one I eventually married!). We were being extremely honest about our personal struggles--physical and spiritual--when I poured out my feelings of failure. He was incredibly reassuring and understanding...as much as he could be without having the same struggle. And now, seven years later, he still is as supportive and approachable about this subject as he was then.

But you caught that, right? It's still a struggle. Every hour it's a struggle. I hate, hate, hate that my mind is so consumed with something so temporary and superficial. The enemy knows my weakness for sure. He absolutely has my number here. And he throws it in my face unceasingly.

So why do something about it now? Why do I feel so determined today? Because I am sick to death of allowing this to rule my life. While I do need a health and fitness plan to help me get back on track, I also need to be seeking how to put this idolatry to death, spiritually speaking.

If you're still reading at this point, major kudos to you. I covet your prayers as I walk this road.

A blog I read regularly is that of a college friend, Erin Mount. She has taken an amazing leap and has lost over 60 pounds over the past year and a half. She is a major inspiration to me here, so I'm super-proud of her. She's my weightloss hero! Check out her blog.

Until later...
-glenna-

(Now I'm taking a deep breath and clicking "publish post"...for someone who prides herself on being transparent, this is not as easy as I thought it would be!)