Back in November, my dad and I started working out together at Planet Fitness. My goal at the time was to lose twenty pounds by March. It seemed realistic and achievable to me, given the time frame.
Alas, that didn’t end up happening. In fact, I’m pretty sure I’ve even gained weight since then.
After about a month of going to the gym, I got COVID for the third time. Obviously, I didn’t go to the gym while sick. Even after testing negative and not having symptoms, I still needed to rest and recover more. Then, less than a week later, I got regular sick, and it kicked my ass worse than COVID did. Then it was my birthday and Christmas and New Years and obviously I wasn’t going to go to the gym then.
Now it’s a week away from being March, and I haven’t been in the gym since basically the beginning of December.
Why was March my goal? Well, honestly, I wanted to be under 200 pounds for the JoCo Cruise. And at this point I’m not really sure why, considering the JoCo Cruise-goers are some of the nicest, understanding, non-judgmental people ever, especially when it comes to how someone looks. I seriously doubt anyone on the boat will care if I’m 195 or 215, so why do I care so much? I guess there’s some deep rooted ideas in my head about “beach bodies”, intentionally losing weight for a trip, and eating less before a vacation so that you’re technically “allowed” to pig out on vacay.
Appearance reasons aside, there’s also the reason of I don’t fit in my clothes from last year, and I need new dresses, shorts, t-shirts, etcetera, to wear on the boat. While I used to love shopping and honestly had a bit of an addiction for it, that has kind of disappeared as I’ve gained weight because I’m so upset with how my body looks and feels in everything I wear. So, now I have to go shopping not because I actually want to, but because I need bigger clothes, and that feels not great.
Generally, I try not to talk about my weight or my body often, because I feel like if I let myself talk about it, it’ll be the only thing I ever talk about. My brain is so filled to the brim with constant thoughts about food, weight, my body, my eating habits, I know that if I opened the flood gates, it wouldn’t stop pouring out. And honestly, I don’t want it to seem like I’m constantly throwing myself a pity party, so I don’t talk about it much. Even this post feels like me giving you excuses as to why I look the way I look, it’s just a thinly veiled plea for you not to judge my appearance, or maybe it’s actually just me fishing for reassurance.
Isn’t that why everyone talks about their weight? To explain away all the reasons they gained twenty pounds, or to have people say “you’re not even fat!”. Or maybe that’s just why I do it.
I feel like if I talk about my eating habits, it’s just a window into my home of mental illnesses. Do I not exercise because I’m depressed? Do I have an addiction to sugar? Do I binge eat because eating is the only thing I enjoy doing?
As you can see, I kind of end up spiraling if I start talking about it. So I try not to. But knowing that so much of my body will be visible on the boat fills me with a certain kind of dread, and I guess I just wanted to talk about it, because keeping it bottled up in my brain is starting to get to me.
Part of wishes I could wear jeans and hoodies the entire cruise, the way I used to at summer camp even though it was eighty degrees out. But I’m not going to do that to myself. I’m going to wear shorts and dresses and swimsuits and I’m going to enjoy the sun and the water and all the food I want. And I hope you all do the same.