Friday, October 16, 2015

Steph Says: That Little Voice

Ever have one of those days where you just aren't feeling it?
And you're not even sure what "it" is?
That's me today.

But it didn't start out that way.

I woke up at 4:15 a.m. and headed to the gym for 5 a.m. Power Pump class. I was (key word: WAS) feeling good so I hopped on the Stairmaster for 15 minutes and burned off some extra calories to boot. I felt like Wonder Woman- my Friday was off to a fantastic start! I was ready to tackle an awesome fun day with my daughter!
Got home, started getting ready for the day, ate some Greek yogurt and a healthy pumpkin-apple muffin made by my sister-in-law (so I know it's super packed with healthy stuff. She's a wizard in the kitchen when it comes to yummy, health-conscious food).
That's when things started going downhill.
The doubt. The self-loathing. That evil little voice started up.

You shouldn't have eaten that.
Um, excuse me?
You should have just saved the calories. You're taking Rascal to get donuts with your parents (because #donutfriday) and you know you can't resist a blueberry cake donut.
You're going to tell yourself, "It's ok, I worked out this morning, I can have that donut!"
Because you have no willpower.
Because you are just meant to be fat.

Getting dressed proved to be a struggle because I knew this day definitely involved painting, and might involve some outdoor activity. And today's weather ranged from a low of 56 to a high of 92. How do you even plan for that? I went with shorts and a tee with a zip-up hoodie. And right off the bat, I knew the shorts were too tight. But right now, everything is too tight.

These shorts were loose last year.
LOOSE, Stephanie.
You aren't even back where you started, you're bigger.
Why are you even trying?
You're never going to get to your goal.
Go eat a donut, fatty. It'll make you feel better.

So I listen to her. In fact, I eat two donuts. But I don't feel better. Surprised, anyone? 

After donut Friday, it was time to head to the local pottery painting shop for storytime with Rascal and some fellow mom friends- a group of women I really like and enjoy being around. I got out of my car, pulling down my shorts and tugging at my shirt. And all the moms look so cute. They're dressed well, their hair looks great, and their kids, who, granted, are a little older than Rascal, are equally adorable. They look so put-together. And I know they're not judging me, but let's face it, Rascal and I look homeless. I mean, with her well-developed fine motor skills, I planned on getting more paint on us than on the ceramic pumpkin and dressed accordingly.

You don't fit in with these women.
They're amazing moms, and they look so effortless! Their kids are all behaving so well.
Your kid just hauled off and smacked you across the face for no reason.
You are a terrible parent and you look so bad in front of these moms.
Way to go. Mom of the year.

I took Rascal to the back of the store to have a "chat" about her behavior, and to add insult to injury, I catch a glimpse of myself in a full-length mirror.
I look worse than I imagined.
We finally left, a little more colorful than we arrived, and I just felt so beat up (after all, my kid only smacked me three times) and dejected. I couldn't decide if I should just drive home or drive off a cliff or go get fast food.

Yessssssss food!
Food makes you feel better.
Especially things that are ridiculously unhealthy.
Like Taco Bell.
Or macaroni and cheese.

The voice won again. We stopped at the grocery store. While I did manage to avoid Taco Bell, I ended up with a takeout box of mac and cheese to split with Rascal. Rascal, who then had a meltdown in the parking lot because HOW DARE I suggest we get out of the cart and into her car seat.

Mom of the century.

Now I'm sitting at home, still stuffed into my too-tight shorts because I am punishing myself for the poor food choices I've made today.
I miss feeling lean.
I miss when my shorts were loose and everything in my closet fit.
I am upset with myself for getting rid of all my "fat clothes" and now wishing I still had them, because they would fit now.

But you DON'T really want those clothes back, do you? You can lose the weight again.
I know you can.
I know I've been really mean today, but it's because I know how far you've come and I hate seeing you backslide like this. 
I am YOU, after all. 

But losing weight is a horrible, wonderful thing, Voice. The highs are so high. You feel like you're on top of the world because your hard work SHOWS.  But man, when the lows hit? There's nothing that can stop that voice.

So here's a different kind of "before and after."
I did a lot of damage in 7 months. Now I'm paying for it.
I got cocky. I felt like I didn't need to try as hard.

Well, guess what?
You do.
You have to try.
You have to try every single day, and you probably will have to try for the rest of your life.
First, take a nap with Rascal.
Shake it off.
Wake up feeling refreshed.
Take your kid to the park. Run around. Burn more calories. Make better choices for the rest of the day. 
Stop wallowing and DO SOMETHING.

Okay, Voice. I hear ya.
You know, sometimes, you're not so bad after all.

Just gotta give you some tough love every so often.
Now don't screw up again.

Okay, Voice.
I hear ya.


  1. We were brought together for a reason. I (and MOST women) can relate with EVERY word in this blog. My heart aches for the anguish you are going through. BUT.... You have a family of misfits now that love you unconditionally. Ya know why???? Because we've ALL walked in your shoes. Here's to you sista. A virtual toast to the woman I want to spend all of my free time with. Kisses on ya face.