I was able to leave work a couple of hours early today. I knew I must take the opportunity to slide in an extra workout. I texted my husband and he decided to go with me.
I changed into my old workout outfit. It’s probably almost a decade old, and the shirt has had paint on it for longer than my 6 year old has been alive. The pants gained a bleached area after moving into our previous home about 2 years ago.
Nathan picked the treadmill, and I chose to do a combo of elliptical and rowing machine. We both did a full 45 min workout, and I did my best to maximize mine (HR, speed, resistance, etc.).
I started with the elliptical set on a big incline to maximize focus on quads and glutes. My quads have been weak and my glutes have been chronically tight; sometimes that’s a sign of weakness, but it’s also potentially just because of the nature of how I stand while working.
Either way, I wanted this workout to help in as many ways as possible. So, I picked my machines based on muscles I wanted to work, and the duration for helping my brain function.
10 min into the elliptical my clothes were bothersome. They are now so baggy that they catch on things. While still in motion I tied a knot in my shirt hem, and pulled my pants up higher and cinched in the drawstring more. I then had to pull my sleeves up as high as possible to get them to stay put.
When I got home I realized they were 18/20W or a 2XL. When I originally bought them I was not quite at my largest and they were comfortably loose. I do remember when I hit my largest they were no longer quite so comfortable and that was one of many signals to acknowledge I needed to fix things. That was over 7 years ago.
Now, I know I wore a fitted size Large scrub top last week that wasn’t quite so tight anymore. I wouldn’t call it spacious or comfy, but it’s not restrictive like it was when I bought it in the frame of mind of being hopeful.
So I’m down from an 18/20W plus size to a solid 14/16 regular, and still shrinking, not quite to a size 12 yet.
This is quite possibly the slowest process I’ve ever noticed, but it is progress. The bathroom scale is still useless registering 217-220 depending on the day, but I’m definitely slowly inching smaller.
I still get frustrated over my tummy because it shows bloating so readily, but I’m definitely smaller. When I stand with proper posture and I’m not bloated, my tummy is smaller than my breasts, the last times that happened was directly after giving birth to my children. It makes me feel good.
This all helps me feel better. The exercise itself, the results, being smaller, feeling better physically, it all helps my mood. This on top of all of my regimen is a big helper, but I’m still inching up.
It’s not taking me weeks or months anymore, but it’s still taking me multiple days to climb out of mental health pits. It is improvement, but I look forward to hours instead. Nay, I look forward to never falling to begin with.
I’m not sure I’m ready to contemplate what that puzzle looks like yet. I’ll get this one down better first.
Anyway, I wanted to share my efforts and the noticable measures of improvement. I will keep plugging away and eventually I will be back up again.
May you have moments of appreciation and validation of your efforts at improvement. May your brain always cooperate with you. May you have stable mental health and a healthy body inside and out. May you know you are doing better and find ways to love yourself for it. May you know you’re loved and supported.