I Must Confess…

I have been looking for a new Monday link-up to get me blogging more often. I love the linkups that sort of give you something to talk about, like Thankful Thursday, or Things I Know Friday, it at least pushes you off in a sort of direction and gives you a head start. And lets face it, when you have bloggers block, you can do with a little push. After consulting my #TeamIBOT girls about where to linkup on Mondays, I’ve decided to give it ago with Kirsty at My Home Truths and I Must Confess, and will kill two birds with one stone and link up with Alicia at One Mother Hen for Open Slather.

The problem with confessions is that sometimes, once you start, you can’t stop. I’d hate to confess all my secrets on my first day and have nothing to write about next week. I’ll see if I can contain myself.

I must confess, in the last 4 weeks, I have gained 4kgs. One kilogram per week on average. I did not say no to one single Christmas treat/drink/desert/gift-of-chocolate.

I must confess, in the last 4 weeks, I have done less than 30 minutes exercise. Total.

I must confess, I have gone back up a dress size after dropping two in the 6 months leading up to Christmas. Man, training can not start again soon enough! This week, thank God!

I must confess, I hate training, but love the euphoric feeling I get afterwards of having a good, hard workout, knowing that I have worked hard and pushed my limits.

I must confess, when people tell me how great I look, I feel like a failure, because I was doing so amazingly well, and fell completely and totally off the wagon over the holidays.

I must confess, I hate when people talk about body image, about people being beautiful no matter what their size is. It is not my size I’m worried about, it is my health, and how I feel on the inside. I am not comfortable in my skin when I am carrying extra weight around. I am not comfortable in my skin when I am not active, don’t eat well, and don’t take care of my body. I’m not saying everyone should be size 8 and exercise fanatics, I’m saying if you’re happy in your skin, good for you, I know what I need to do to be happy in mine.

I must confess, I am both glad and terrified that training starts again this week. It has been a long 4 weeks, and I feel like I’ve lost every ounce of fitness I gained in the previous 6 months. My only goal is to not puke.

Do you have anything to confess this week? Anything in general you want to share at Open Slater? Follow the links below and check out the other bloggers! 

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Not Another Stress Fracture

Last weekend, our weekend at Fingal, which was awesome, may have ended up with a bit of an injury. One of my friends and I went for a run on the beach, barefoot, in the hard sand. It felt great, at the time. We blitzed it, then jumped right in the ocean after! It felt amazing! The next day however, my feet were swollen and sore. My right foot has calmed down, my left is still really sore. It seems to be the bone on the top of the foot and it feels very similar to when I had a stress fracture in my right ankle almost 2 years ago. I think tennis and running might be out for a while. I strapped it up for PT Wednesday night and it didn’t give me too much grief, so hopefully I’ll still be able to train. I’m not sure yet how it will feel swimming and if the kicking motion will inflame it or not.

After losing 10kgs, something like this freaks me out. If I can’t run/swim/train I’m terrified of putting every one of those kgs straight back on. I know I need to be more sensible about my food, especially when I’m injured and not moving regularly. But the food part of this whole thing is something I’ve struggled with from day 1. It’s the reason it took so long to start losing weight.

So now I’m faced with the challenge of trying to still work out without doing more damage to my foot, and/or trying to maintain weight by mostly eating healthy and not relying on my swimming/PT/running. The last time I injured my ankle it took weeks to fully recover. And while I understand the importance of letting the body heal, the thought of taking weeks off makes me feel sick. See, I’ve sort of become addicted to this post-exercise high. I’ve become addicted to the confidence I have in my body, in myself, after doing a 60 minute PT session and dripping sweat on the ground.

I know now that I can.not.stop. I can never stop exercising, because I will end up right back where I began. 10+ kgs heavier. Miserable. Feeling sorry for myself. And I’ve worked so hard, for so long, to get to this point, I don’t even want to think about going back now.

Linking up with Stacey-Lee at Get On With It Already for Team Friday!

The Difference Is Food

This morning I was up early – it will be a long summer waking up with daybreak when daybreak happens around the 4:30 am mark. Yesterday I decided I was going get up this morning and drive to the beach for a run. My last 2 runs I smashed PB’s, and even had my first sub-6 minute km. A 5km run at the beach would be easy-as. Right.

The problem with being competitive and needing to be good at everything you do is the inability to accept that you are not always going to do better than your best. And that is ok.

About 3.3 kms into today’s run, I said, “Fuck it.” I stopped, took my shoes and socks off, walked down to the water, and walked the last 2 kms back to my car in the cool water. Sometimes it’s ok to do that. It’s ok to not do your best, it’s ok to not push yourself beyond your limits, it’s ok to have a mental health moment, rather than a physical health moment. I can’t think of any better way than starting the day with walking along the beach, splashing in the water, the sun shining on you, before the rest of the world is up and before it’s too damn hot.

In saying all that, I think there were several factors that contributed to my “fuck it” moment this morning. We had KFC for dinner last night. And I’m pushing myself harder at PT than I ever have, and my body was tired and sore this morning. That’s a terrible combination – exhaustion + bad food + exercise. I can think of one other time when I’ve stopped mid-run and given up, and I hadn’t eaten KFC then, but I think I had eaten McDonalds. I know this is not a coincidence.

In any case, it was nice to get out and get some exercise in to start the day. Now let’s see if I can stay awake past 9 pm tonight.
Linking up with Stacey-Lee at Get On with IT Already for Team Friday.