Today, I'm not 139.5 lbs. To be completely honest, I've probably gained 15-20 pounds in the past six months. Because what no one tells you after losing so much weight is that it's not only the weight loss that is hard: the maintenance is hard too.
My problem was a steep drop in motivation to exercise, to the point where I basically didn't run a single mile for about three months. Largely, it was because the last six or so months have been extremely difficult for me personally. Emotionally, I was going through a very low point and during it, the activity that sounded least fun to me was running. At the same time, I was doing a pretty terrible job of resisting temptations: if someone had a birthday at work, I accepted that giant slab of cake. Then I would have another piece after lunch the day following. I'd reverted to the way I had previously dealt with stress: eating instead of exercising.
I think my wake-up call came when I realized that even after going back up a pants size, I'm showing off some serious love handles. I recently ran my local runners club race, which I PRed last year, and ran it nearly 10 minutes slower. I've bought clothes that I say will "fit better when I lose my slump weight." Except I still wasn't doing anything.
Now, I kind of hate to say that my life turned around because of a guy, but it sort of did. My dating life had been pretty terrible since my last boyfriend, but I recently met a guy with whom I've really connected. He has been fully supportive of my weight-consciousness and my running, and even said he wanted to train with me. For some reason, I have the motivation to train again partially because of him. Not to mention I have a half marathon at the end of August and dammit I'm going to run it!
All doom and gloom and gushiness aside, I think about the past year and all the adversity I've faced, and I think that I would have handled every tough situation so differently if I were still obese. I've learned how to handle myself confidently and assertively, and I don't stand for people who don't treat me with respect.
Though I've had my slip-ups, for the most part, I continue to eat the usual healthy stuff that I have been, and I still haven't set foot near a Chipotle or Five Guys in over two years.
I remember all that I accomplished and on this day, my "goaliversary" I've dubbed it, I've re-committed myself. I made a promise to my dying grandfather that I'd keep running, and I'm going to keep that promise and get back to training for my August half. I'm going to resist temptation for the sweet things at the office, because sure, I'd like that slice of cake, but I won't like the guilt I'm going to feel after I eat it.
I ran in my neighborhood this evening, my first non-race run outside of the season. Mile 1 was a toughie with some shin tenderness, but after I hit that one mile mark, a good song came on my running playlist, and I felt positively jubilant, despite the strong winds blowing directly in my face and fogging up sunglasses from the low-50s temperatures and my sweaty face. I remember how good 140 lbs felt, and I'm going to go back to that. I've learned my lesson, and I know full well how I can maintain. And now, I'm going to do it.