I don't think anyone can quite understand the journey to serious weight loss unless they've experienced it themselves. It takes absurd amounts of hard work and self-discipline and there's really nothing fun about it. I have unfortunately found myself on this road more than once in my life. (Once in college and again this past year.) This less than joyful journey began one year ago this very week.
I have had to lose some weight after each pregnancy, but the first two times around, it came off without a problem relatively quick. So when I was gaining a lot of weight during pregnancy, I wasn't too concerned. I did the same thing with Parker and I had lost it all in seven months without much effort on my part. Six weeks after Gray was born and I had the OK to start exercising again, I got on the scales and had only lost ten pounds...and eight and a half of that was Grayden. Yikes!
I have never made greater efforts to lose weight than I have this past year. And it's never been this hard to lose it. I suppose I can attribute that to getting older and having three kids. I cannot explain to you what that does to a girls mental state. I hate that something as trivial as weight could make me feel so down. I hit some pretty low patches.
Even more trivial than my weight...I hated that I had nothing to wear. I refused to buy an entire plus size wardrobe. I didn't want to get too cute and comfortable in a size I was not comfortable being. Besides a couple necessary purchases, I wore maternity clothes much, much much longer than I cared to. An embarrassing amount of time.
And then something happened the past few months. I stopped doing it for the weight and started doing it for the health of it. It changed my whole outlook, my entire mental state. And subsequently, my weight loss picked up.
So now that I've hit the one year mark on this difficult journey, I'm ready to report. I've lost 47 pounds this year. 47 POUNDS! That averages out to just under a pound a week. (Though it was more like...lose a bunch...not lose any...lose a bunch...not lose any.) Watching the scale was so frustrating. Losing weight is such a slow process, it hardly felt like I was getting anywhere. But over one years time, that is significant. Forty-seven pounds is the size of a 6 year old child. Parker weighs 43 pounds and I can hardly carry him these days. The thought that I had his weight plus some attached to my body it unreal.
I feel like I need a before and after picture.
Me one year ago...too big for even a size 16 (I tried to avoid pictures at this time in my life so my options were limited):
Me today...size 6 top, size 8 jeans (again a bad picture...self timer):
I still have a little bit to lose to hit my pre-pregnancy weight. I'm still quite lumpy around the middle. But I did reach my goal weight. I'm at a weight that while I'd rather be smaller, I can be very comfortable at. A weight I can now stop obsessing over.
The worst part? We've lived in three different places so no one has been around to see the loss from start to finish. It's frustrating to have lost nearly 50 pounds and no one notices. I'm all about the praise. So bring it on.