Last year things were going really positive on my weight loss journey. I had successfully lost 20+ lbs and had a momentum swing in my favor. I was religiously logging Weight Watchers, attending in person meetings, and attending an in person spin class where the penalty of missing a class after your signed up was steep (you would be banned after so many no shows, as there was only enough room for 12 people, and a waitlist each week with the class at 6:30 in the morning). Then COVID happened, and suddenly I was working from home and everything that was working for me and keeping me accountable was no longer an option. I gained all the weight I had lost plus 5 lbs.
A few weeks ago I started to try and motivate myself to getting more exercise in. I am now permanent work from home, so I need to start building a routine, but when my lunch break rolled around I always had some excuse why today wasn’t the day to start going on a walk or run. “Oh I look awful, I’ll be judged.” “It’s too hot” “The condo association is mowing today I don’t want them to make fun of me as I walk by.” Then about three weeks ago I decided enough is enough, I’m just making excuses. Nobody will care, nobody will notice.
I got my shoes laced up, and my workout gear on. I told myself just a 20 minute walk, just to get the habit started. I don’t need to push myself. I left the house quickly on my lunch break and realized I did not bring my headphones or sunglasses, but chalked up to going back inside as a way to potentially talk myself out of it, so I carried on. I rounded the neighborhood onto the main road, casually checking my phone just happy that hey at least I made it out here. Then the truck drove by. “Yeah lose that pot belly, girl!” I stopped walking and stopped looking at my phone. There’s absolutely no way I heard that right- it had taken months for me to build the confidence to go outside to better myself, convince myself no one was really making fun of me, and here I was within five minutes of my first walk and someone screamed at me that I had a pot belly.
I was mortified. I wanted to cry. I wanted to turn around and go home. But I didn’t. I turned my planned 20 minute walk into a 40 minute run. I was livid, I was motivated and for the first time in over a year I felt determined to really do better for myself. For the past few weeks I’ve worked out consistently and have improved my eating habits. I feel completely driven.
I apologize for the lengthy post, and I’m not completely sure why I’m sharing this story. I think part of me wants to keep this memory strong for fuel on days when I’m too tired to work out, or I want to completely binge. I feel motivated for the first time in over a year, and I truly think I’ll get back to the place I was before COVID.
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