Losing a Marathon

Four and a half months ago I had my second baby.
Three and a half months ago I started Weight Watchers.
Two and a half months ago I went back to work part time.
Two months ago I started running.
Three weeks ago I went back to work full time.
Two weeks ago I started school.

Are you tired yet? I am exhausted from just reading this. I can hardly believe it's my life.

Though I've been weighing in weekly, I hadn't been to a Weight Watchers meeting in about a month. Then I found one near school that I could go to during the break between my classes today. That the leader is the same as the leader of the meeting I used to go to in a different (and now inconvenient) location is a bonus.

So, new place, new time of day, other new variables, same scale. I got on, held my breath as I always do, and waited for the news.

"You're down 2.2. You hit over 25 pounds! Be sure to celebrate in the meeting today!"

And celebrate I did. This was a big week, and I felt like a rock star in today's meeting. I had to hold myself back from talking the entire time because I had so much to share. I blurted out my weight loss and accepted my 25 lb charm like it was an Oscar. In my head I ran down the list of this week's non-scale victories. I finished my Couch to 5k training and treated myself to new sneakers as a reward. I signed up for a 5k run with a friend and tested out the Nike+ iPod sensor today. I am seriously entertaining the idea of training for a 10k. Every day I make better food choices and learn more about myself. Last week I had bad news from a doctor and found myself baking (and eating) cookies that night. After two spoons of dough and two big cookies, I realized that This Is Emotional Eating. And that's the first time I ever realized that, in all my 39 years of mindless eating. I figured I had two choices: one, I could eat the rest of the cookies and feel terrible about myself, or I could stop and assess the damage. Somehow, I stopped myself. I put the cookies away and tracked everything. When I did, I saw that the damage was pretty minor. Okay, I sacrificed some of my 49 weekly points but that is what they are there for, right? I calmed down and I didn't feel the despair I always feel after eating things I shouldn't. That last one I had to share with the group and it earned me a Bravo sticker.

And so I'm down 2.2 pounds, making my total now 26.2. That's a marathon. I always said I would never run a marathon but in some ways I feel like that is exactly what I'm doing. This isn't about starving for a week to get into that bathing suit before my trip or into a dress before the wedding. I am now at the weight I was when I got pregnant with Freyja. My pre-pregnancy jeans fit me. My knee high boots zip up over my calves. I might still be insecure (just ask my husband, who has to say "you look great, babe" a thousand times a day as I twist in front of the mirror trying to see how fat my ass still is) but I am learning new habits and I am changing my life. I still have 17.8 pounds to my goal weight, and 27.8 pounds to my Secret Dream Goal that I'm not sure my body wants to be anymore. But I'm going to find out! And I am telling anyone and everyone who will listen so that I hold myself to it and have no choice but to succeed.