I felt hungover this morning. All the crying, and still being at the tail end of this flu, left me feeling beat up! As I got out of bed, I was wishing the whole thing was a bad dream. That my results were good. That I didn’t have the bones of an 80 year old woman.
Before I went to bed, I started writing out a plan:
Gain enough weight to start getting my cycle again, then maintain
Cut back drinking to no more than three days/week
Have a constant pot of bone broth going to sip everydayLift HEAVY, focusing on major muscle groups
Lay off spin class, and other non-impact cardio
Get a weight vest, and do at least an hour of impact activity (like jogging or hiking) every week
Jump. Hard! Twice a week, jump off a box with extra weight over and over again.
Get my thyroid checked to make sure my meds are not too high
Get my hormones checked to see what my estrogen is doing
Having a plan is always the way to make me feel better. As I shared the first few bits of this above list with my husband, he immediately called “bullshit.” Well, he didn’t use that word, but he knows me. He knows I’ve spent my entire adult life watching each morsel of food, keeping myself lean, almost never veering off course. In fact, he had challenged me last year to gain one pound for every 5 he lost. That would have been a grand total of 4 pounds. I couldn’t, or wouldn’t do it.
Do you know how hard it is to look at yourself in the mirror, love what you see (in your 40’s!), and then have to go and gain weight. How many women my age can stand naked in front of the mirror and think, “Yeah, that works!” After spending the better part of my twenties doing nothing but hating my body, to feel comfortable in my own skin is amazing.
The problem, however, is not my skin...it’s my bones. So my better half reminded me that it’s not enough to just lay all this out, but I actually have to do it. I have to add the extra carbs to my meals. I have to occasionally order a steak instead of fish. I have to at least try to let go.
Anyone who has struggled with an eating disorder will tell you: it never leaves. You’ll be doing pretty good, not thinking too much about what your eating or how hard you’re working out. Then stress hits; you lose control. The only thing that you know you can always control is food. When I deal with stress, I immediately get stuck, deep in my head, and control the only thing I always can.
So. I start. I woke up and had something to eat before I worked out. Normally, I’d do it fasted, or with as little as possible. I went to bootcamp and lifted heavy- as heavy as I could. I did the sprints on the treadmill. I bailed on my usual SoulCycle class. I went to brunch and added an extra piece of bacon, and avocado to my usual scrambled eggs and bacon meal. I had a coconut ice cream pop that I was unloading from the groceries, just because it looked good.
I can do this. This will not be easy. This will not be a quick fix. But I can do this.