For those of you waiting to hit rock bottom...don't forget that we're starting our 2nd annual #1000Miles challenge on New Year's day!
So here's Tova's story.
I just had a baby... 32 months ago. I have been up and down and up and down in weight the past couple of years and I’m tired of it. But do I change? No. Every couple of months I turn into Dylan Thomas “I WILL NOT GO GENTLE INTO THAT GOOD NIGHT! I SHALL BE A SIZE 2 AGAIN!” And then I will get my gym clothes at the ready, and take out the blender and stock up on frozen fruits and low fat yoghurt. I’ll spend hours looking for light and healthy meals on Pinterest and I’ll look for thinspiration in the form of Carrie Underwood and Kelly Ripa. I want that. I want that lithe, fantastic, healthy mommy look. It’s up to me to change. So, life, do me a favour here and stop throwing goddamn curve balls at me. You are making me eat.
You would think I would have hit rock bottom by now... but no. I have avoided pictures, standing beside skinny people and pants with buttons the past few months. Maxi dresses were my friends in the summer and bulky adorable cashmere cardigans are now my confidantes. Every time I turn into Coach Sue and think to myself “This is it. I am ready!”, something tragic happens. I just got back from a great visit with my parental units. It was just me and the folks and it was great because I didn’t have to scream at my son to stay away from the bloody antique vases and ancient Persian rugs. No, I could just relax and get roped into watching Downton Abbey and eat. And eat for three days I did. I came back Sunday night and vowed to get back on track. I believed that if I worked hard for the next 4 weeks, I could relax for a couple of days at Christmas and not end up in my traditional puddle of self-pity on New Year’s Day. All systems a go!
And then, once again, we have another daycare issue. This has been going on for close to a year and it is reaching its summit, someone’s falling off Everest. The end is near and I think we just have a few more months until we need to find another daycare for the Kid and that is near impossible in this city. It is a long and heart wrenching story (in a foreign language, I live in Vienna, Austria) but suffice to say, I probably need therapy from all the stress. Nothing sucker punches you more than hearing something negative about your kid. And the worst part? He’s an absolute delight at home.
This morning, after my third workout morning of this week, I was pumped, I was ready. Healthy breakfast and lunch - planned, fajitas were in the crockpot and I was feeling good. And then, WHAMMO, daycare issue. Once again I am reaching for the bagels and finding solace in cream cheese and waiting to hit rock bottom again. But maybe, just maybe I can nip this in the bud. And so, with just 4 weeks until Christmas, with God as my witness and the handful of people who actually like spending time with me, I shall stay on track and I shall enter the New Year slightly healthier... if not traumatized. I’m putting the bagel down now. Wish me luck!