Women and weight. We go together sort of like Jekyll and Hyde in the way that we love, hate, can't live without each other. As a lady, I'm always aware of my weight and it's so frustrating. I don't want to worry about the numbers on the scale, but try as I may to stop, I still do.
Even if I didn't want to, I could still count calories faster than I could ever recite the ABC's. But my problem with working out is that it's a lifestyle. You can't work out for a week, take three months off, work out for a day (not like I'm speaking from personal experience or anything ... but, uh). It's not a phase. And that's totally why maintaining my weight is such a challenge for me.
Aside from hitting the gym, I do everything else right. I eat a healthy, well-balanced diet. I fight the urge to consume pizza nonstop all day, every day, and stick to a menu that's more inviting of fruits, veggies, grains, and lean proteins. I walk whenever I can, take the stairs when it's possible, and stay as far from cookies, cake, cannolis, and cupcakes as I can possibly manage (but to be honest, I cave sometimes).
The endless, ongoing fight I have with my weight and my desire to rack up hours at the gym is incredibly disheartening. I'm angry at myself and the toll skipping the gym leaves on my body.
Still, I love my figure. It's mine. I like my shape. I may spend hours fantasizing about what it'd be like to have a figure identical to Jennifer Lopez, but overall -- this is my figure and it works for me. I don't have any glaring body image issues. But every day brings with it a brand new battle of my bulge. I couldn't begin to tell you how many times I've worried that my next cupcake will leave me with a muffin top.
I played sports growing up and I'm honestly into the whole idea of a fitness routine. I genuinely like the gym atmosphere. I like seeing people working toward a better body and better health. I've played competitive sports for as long as I can remember, which to me is a really long time. But every seven months or so, I hit a plateau so hard, it knocks me off my feet. I'll be training for a marathon and wham! I wake up one morning and I’m over working out. There's no rhyme or reason. Just over it like it was yesterday's news. And for months it lags on. No desire to be in shape. No interest at all. I'm on a vacation from working out and I can't figure out how to get back home.
I know that I'll never be satisfied until I strike a balance that works for me. But finding that balance -- and holding on to it -- is something that's nearly impossible to do. After a long day of work, the last war I want to wage is the one against my motivation.
Is going to the gym a struggle for you too? Got any tips?
Image via lululemon athletica/Flickr