The truth about starting again -- even when it's hard
I speak quite often about my weight loss journey and its million ups and downs. I’ve been doing it since 2012, yet I never seem to run out of things to say.
I share when I’m celebrating wins, and I share when I’m feeling down about my weight gain and changing, pregnant body. I go on and on when I start back up and start seeing progress on the scale again — and I share a hundred excuses whenever I fall off the wagon (and it will inevitably happen… again).
Lately, I’ve been wondering how, after three years of not moving, not being active, and steadily gaining weight, I’ve found myself back at the gym regularly since January. For three years, I put myself and my health on the backburner as I became Caleb’s mom — a full-time working mom — both roles that took quite a bit of adjusting to.
I’ve wondered how, just weeks after finding out I was pregnant again, I was suddenly back on the elliptical — even though I was (am) growing a human and more tired than I’ve been in years.
I guess what I’ve found is this: you can’t wait for the ever-elusive motivation to find you… you have to go find it yourself.
That’s what I was always waiting for in those three years of inactivity. I was waiting for that feeling to strike. Waiting for that drive, that spark, that determination to come creeping back into my life.
Well, it never showed up.
So I did.
I show up when I don’t want to. I show up because I have to. I show up because I don’t like what I see in the mirror — but I’m starting to like what I see on the scale again.
No, I’m not losing right now, since I’m carrying a baby… but the scale is ticking up slowly this time, not spiraling like it did with my first. I show up because I’m tired and my back hurts — but I love how I feel when the screen ticks 35 minutes and I know I’m finally done. I show up because the sweat means I worked hard, and I get to go home feeling proud instead of defeated.
Could I show up more often? Could I stay on the machines a little longer?
Sure.
But I’m showing up.
For the first time in three years, I’m there. Regularly. Consistently. I remember why I started. And I’m determined to stay on this track after the baby comes — to keep showing up for the long run instead of finding every excuse to quit again.
I know I won’t want to. I know I’ll be tired. I know I’ll be busier than ever before.
But I also know I’ll need to just suck it up and show up anyway.
Because I can’t wait for motivation to find me — it never really does. When presented with the option to either work out or sit on the couch and read… we all know what wins. Every single time.
We’d all rather be on the couch than on the treadmill.
So I can’t wait.
I can’t wait for this magical feeling of wanting to work out to hit me. I just need to do it regardless.
I’ve learned to be my own motivation.
I’ve learned that all we really need to do… is just show up.
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