First-time poster, so here's the very basic rundown: 34F, 160lbs give or take, used to hover around 140, had a baby two years ago, then entered a MA program. The stress of other numerous traumatizing life events plus the aforementioned two big-uns helped me keep the baby weight. Two straight years of self-hatred. I look at old photos of me when I was 25 and hot, rocking out in my punk band wearing a mini skirt and thinking, "I didn't appreciate that body, and now it's gone forever. I'm doomed to mom-bod. I am a living rectangle." (disclaimer: 160 may not seem like a lot compared to other people's struggles, but I'm 5'4" and was always pretty petite prior to the baby and riddled with super-low confidence my whole life, so these are just my personal parameters)
The proverbial straw that broke the camel's back: My mother posted a photo of me on facebook. She was so proud of me for completing my MA for Occupational Therapy. I dressed up for the ceremony, my sister did my hair, I wore a SUPER FINE dress, put on makeup, the whole nine. But the photo that she posted made me realize that I would absolutely not tolerate looking like this in photos for a second longer. I hated that photo. I hated it SO MUCH.
Oh, I tried to console myself with articles about how people look worse in cell phone pictures than in real life, but how much leeway could I possibly allow? I was legit 20 pounds heavier, that's not nothing for a girl my height.
I downloaded the Couch25k App and used it as a guideline to start doing exercise: ANY EXERCISE at all. I am perpetually desk-bound and exhausted, part and parcel of being a graduate student and mother of a toddler. I hate exercising. The husband has tried for 10 years to get me excited about sweating with an elevated heartbeat but it never stuck. Turns out what they say is true: you have to do it for yourself, and no one else, or it will never stick. TRUE FACTS. I love my husband more than life, and it still took me deciding for myself and my own happiness over his.
Irony: 4 weeks in, haven't lost any weight yet. This is partly due to the regimen: I have made no change in diet (I don't eat terribly, but I'm not strict) and the app only allows for three days a week (I'm less than strict with the schedule).
BUT.
With semi-regular exercise (actual exercise, with sweat and elevated heartbeat just like my husband recommended), my libido is making a comeback. And I didn't even realize it had waned until all of a sudden it was BACK. My husband has definitely noticed, and helped me make the connection. Honest to god, it's only been four weeks, but it has been so great for us and our relationship. My confidence and desire to have sex has helped him realize what I've been saying throughout my turbulent depression: I find him incredibly attractive and sexy. I already know about all that research saying exercise leads to better general chemistry of the brain, could this be a manifestation of that research?? GEE, IS SCIENCE REAL?
My long-standing depression, while by no means cured, is definitely taking more days off. My shape is subtly changing, despite the no change in weight loss. Four weeks, guys.
It's early days, but shit... is exercise actually as effective as people say it is? /s
It's not that I don't believe the articles, I do. But when you're exhausted and stressed and a new mom and you hate your body, sometimes you need more than facts to get you going.
This is my giddy rambling for the day. I want to emphasize that I wouldn't call this easy OR overnight success. It's not just 4 weeks, it's two bloody years of struggling and crying and eyeing the mirror and deleting selfies and untagging myself in people's facebook posts... there's a lot of emotional bullshit that came before this. And I have terrible discipline, so there have been 20+ barely acknowledged/aborted regimens because I was so stressed over my fluctuating calendar I couldn't keep to any sort of guidelines.
I think this is working. I think this is doing it for now. The app is supposed to get me to a place where I can run a 5k by the end of 8 weeks and I'm halfway there. I really hope I can do it. Because if I can run a 5k, that means I can do it all the time. I can keep the happy brain chemicals, I can keep my libido, I can keep the new shape and maybe an even better shape!
For 30 minutes a day every other day, that seems pretty fucking worth it. Thanks for listening, keep sharing those happy stories. And the real ones as well.
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