"Do exercise to nourish your body, not just to reduce it."
This sign hangs in my gym, and I work hard to hold that truth in my head. Even though I know what I'm supposed to do -- love my body, look for fitness improvements, be happy that I am putting in good work -- it is all too easy to berate myself for every pound on the scale and every bite of donut. The other day at the gym, I was somewhat pleased with myself. I had run the evening before after a week of only moderate activity due to fighting yet another cold (this one seems the worst yet -- it settled in my chest and kept me away from work for a day and a half last week). I was lifting weights and make minor increases in the amount lifted, so I was pleased, but it was the mixed pleasure of one who would really like to be doing even more.
Then, I stepped on the scale and discovered I had lost two pounds. Hallelujah! Maybe eating soup for lunch and dinner for most of the past week really has been helping out. I guess those two donuts from last Friday's meeting weren't as detrimental as I thought.
But then I snapped back. Yes, two pounds is great. I'm really happy with it. But I have no idea whether it's water weight loss or due to my temporary illness or a truly sustainable loss. And cheering about that little loss made me lose track of what I really do want: I want to be in better shape so that I can enjoy outdoor activities on a more frequent basis. And I am doing that! Matt and I went snowshoeing for an hour and a half on Sunday, and I didn't even notice the time flying by. I can run more than I could a few months ago, even though I'm still not yet up to the pre-back injury 5k runs I was doing last spring. I'll get there soon enough. And even though I'm not all jazzed about my weight lifting progress, I am making progress. Today at work, I was lifting tables all by myself, and I've always had to drag them along the floor before.
This getting in shape stuff is hard work. I was doubly reminded of that today when reading the cold, hard weight loss truths at sparkpeople. It is true: you need to work out a lot to lose weight. Many big losers work out at least an hour for at least 5 days a week, which is a big time commitment that I am working toward. You also have to change your diet. And giving up stuff you like isn't fun. Even the gal who has given up all sugar had a really hard first year. It's really hard for me to resist the cookies sitting out on the counter at work, but I know that too many are detrimental to my progress and eating one oftentimes means eating more. I'm working on harnessing the self-discipline to just have one with my lunch, but since I can't yet achieve that, I'm going with avoidance for now.
In any case, I'm glad I'm on the journey. Matt (the boyfriend) has joined my gym with me, so I've now got an in-shape buddy to cheer me on as I make my own progress. Interestingly, this is also teaching me restraint: I have to resist critiquing his method of working out (for example, he often stretches before running instead of after, though I think my example is encouraging him to do more post-stretching). But I remember not to criticize him because I always hated it when others criticized my own style. So I bite my tongue, smile at him, and am thankful that I have someone who encourages me to keep up the gym visits. The working out, it's not always fun. But I'm glad I'm doing it.