I am not fat. I do not think I am fat in any way. Sure, I get a belly. I have one right now. I have cellulite and and stretch marks and saddle bags on my thighs. When I carry a bit of extra weight on me, I don’t freak out. I know it’s just a temporary fluctuation that my body is going through.
But I do keep an eye on it.
You see, my family has a rich history of obesity, high blood pressure, diabetes, high cholesterol, heart troubles, strokes, and the whole host of health problems that come about from weight issues. Since I was young, I watched my family struggle through all of these issues. I never wanted to have to go through this struggle personally.
These same genes are inside of me, but I have vowed to make better, more healthy choices. I fight my biology. I exercise regularly. I eat (mostly) right. I don’t care about being thin. I just want to be healthy. I love myself and my body. I want to take good care of it and of myself.
And sometimes, that’s really fricken difficult. I’ve yo-yoed. I’ve damn near starved myself. I’ve over-exercised. And I’ve had marvelous epiphanies. I’ve grown so much over the years and have come to understand my body and it’s needs.
And it’s still a struggle.
I see setbacks. All. The. Time. Every flare up of my mystery illness is a set back. Every cold is a set back. Every major headache is a set back. Every Thanksgiving and Christmas is a set back. Sure, some set backs are more serious than others. I can typically recover from my headache set backs within a few days, but my mystery illness can drain me for weeks and it takes months to get back to where I was.
Just last week, I caught the dreaded cold bug. I didn’t work out for 10 days and I fed my cold. Carbs were my best friend. I ate an entire box of Mac and Cheese by myself, which definitely wasn’t good for me, but it’s what I really, really needed at the time.
I suffered a set back. A couple weeks before, I had finally overcome a particularly frustrating plateau. It was a win. It was awesome.
But this morning, I weighed more than I have in several years. And I know that it wasn’t a good weight gain. This wasn’t me packing on muscle. It was water, fat, and I’m pretty sure at least 3 pounds of stored mucus. It was the weight of illness and idleness.
But you know what that means? It means I have a goal again. I have a target. I will once again achieve victory and the pride it brings in me. And I look forward to meeting my goals once more.