It’s Wednesday! Nichol chimes in again!

The human brain is an odd thing. Wait, let me clarify. My brain is an odd thing.

I like to give myself a break on weekends. I work out, I monitor what I eat, but I don’t weigh myself and I don’t count calories. Generally, I do pretty well. This last weekend was not great. I (mindfully) ate some pizza for the first time in four months on Saturday and I ate a large cupcake from The Farm on Sunday.

Well, I weighed myself on Monday morning and I was 2 pounds heavier than I was on Friday. I’m not dumb. I know that my weight fluctuates. I’ve gone up and down 5 pounds over one day before. But the combination of 2 extra pounds on the scale and the two delicious crap items I ate this weekend made me feel very . . . hippo-like.

I look in the mirror and I can see the changes that are happening in my body. I shave my legs and I admire the definition in my calves. I brush my teeth and pose like Mr. Universe so I can inspect the developing bicep definition in my arms (let’s not talk about triceps or abs). I put on pants that, after a run in the wash were tight but now make me second-guess my decision to hate belts.

It never fails though. My weight goes up by half a pound and I immediately begin to think about how fat I look. It doesn’t matter that people I see on a daily basis are starting to see the change more and more, I begin to see how I used to look. I’m not thin. I’m still quite heavy, but I’m a far cry to the old, on-her-way-to-300 Nichol. But those days, especially when I’m feeling guilty about something I ate, I see her. That girl I’m trying so hard to leave behind shows up and crushes me. It could be for five minutes, or it could be for three days. But she sucks my energy, motivation, and self-esteem.

It’s really hard to get past that sometimes. And then someone or something comes along that jolts me back to new, healthy Nichol. Monday, it was a co-worker telling me that she expected that I was going to disappear soon. Two weeks ago, it was a friend telling me that they were inspired by my follow-through. Sometimes, it’s just me. Looking at old pictures, getting rid of pants that I have finally given up on wearing because I’m afraid the next time I run down the hallway at work, everyone is going to see things that they shouldn’t.

Mostly it’s just being conscious of how far I have come and how much effort I have put it. And how much of a waste it all would be if I gave into that hopelessness and frustration.

2 responses to this post.

  1. Posted by Stephanie on 18 April 2012 at 08:39

    great post Nichol! Thanks for sharing so much of your personal thoughts.

    • Posted by nicholh on 18 April 2012 at 08:54

      Thank you! I suffer from written word vomit, so sometimes I get a little crazy. It’s really cathartic for me because I’m not really one to talk about my feelings. Which is weird as a social worker. . .

      Sent from my iPhone

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