Choose Your Hard

Hi. How are you? It's been a while, I know. Do we really need to talk about it? Yeah? Ah, crap. Okay then, here it is.

When life gets crazy, this lifestyle changing thing gets hard. I'm not a fan of hard, unless we're talking about Ryan Reynolds' abs. The other kind, the sort that makes you tired and worn down, is not on my list of FAVE things. Take the last two weeks, for example. It's like a study in What Makes Shanon Lose Her Mind. Losing weight got hard.

It's hard when you get sick. Feeling like you've been backed over by a large truck is not helpful in getting to the gym or preparing meals in the kitchen. That stomach virus laid me smooth out. I didn't feel like moving, much less doing the prep work for a week's worth of breakfast meals. Then when I recovered, I felt so hollow I thought I'd never get full. And there were no groceries in the house. Hello, Sonic.

It's hard when your children get sick. For a few days, I couldn't even plan to leave the room for a few minutes, much less make a menu for the week. Going to the grocery store became the impossible dream.

It's hard when you have kids going in all different directions. After recovering from the Creeping Death, we had to get back into the school, dance, drill team, softball routine. I have four kids going to the far corners of the world every afternoon. Last week, a few went to the ends of the earth for tournaments and competitions. I spend my life in the car, I swear. Swinging through the drive-thru seemed to be the only answer to feed these little people who wail that dreaded cry from the back seats, "I'm hungry!". I couldn't send them off to dance or play on empty stomachs, and once again--no groceries. Sense a pattern here?

It's hard when work gets stressful and you just want to come home and sit without SOMEONE needing SOMETHING from you for five minutes. By the time I walk in the door, it's time to get dinner going if we're going to eat before 8 o'clock at night. The strength to drag out the pans and get a healthy meal on the table began to elude me. The restaurants beckoned, with promises of quick, hot meals made by someone who is not me. While it is possible to eat primal at a lot of restaurants, you must be careful. I was not. This mama was tired. I don't always make the best choices when I'm exhausted.

It's hard when the weight isn't coming off as quickly as it was in the beginning. The scale no longer flashes those 3-5 lb. weight losses each week, and the novelty of the new lifestyle began to wear off. Knowing something is good for you doesn't make it easy. After working out and eating that salad while the people around you gnosh on pizza and burgers, you expect to see some numbers going down on that scale. When they don't, you begin to doubt the plan. Yourself. The purpose in skipping that double chocolate shake.

So you can see, life got hard and I got soft. I 'didn't have time' to eat healthy. I just 'couldn't' get to the gym because of the kids' events. I gained three pounds. I felt guilty. I was discouraged and depressed. I started to let it slip more and more, letting the nagging little voices in my head win. And then, I found this on Pinterest.

The truth of this smacked me right between the eyes. Yes, trying to change my lifestyle got hard. Planning and preparing seemed too difficult when I was tired. But what about being overweight?

It's hard when you know you can't even climb the stairs without sucking wind like a Hoover vacuum. Playing with your kids is not an option unless you're sitting your big butt in a chair and observing from a distance. Fun stuff.

It's hard having to pass by all the cute clothes in the fun stores on your way to the fat girl shops. Being in my thirties and having to dress like my grandma doesn't make me feel sexy.

It's hard to be a social person but dread being the fattest woman in the room so much you stay home to avoid the feelings of inadequacy. Seeing all the other women looking so put together and stylish, while I have two pairs of jeans that still button, kind of pokes a hole in my self-confidence. I isolate myself in self-defense.

It's hard to wonder if you'll fit into things like amusement park rides, airplane seats, and theater chairs. The embarrassment of having to step out of line or buy two tickets to accommodate your girth is enough to keep anyone behind the safety of their own door. Fortunately, I never reached this point, but it was on the horizon.

It's hard to feel so ugly and unlovable when you compare yourself to the pictures in magazines and women in movies. To hate what you've become and see the disappointment in your husband's eyes. How demoralizing to think he's with you because he loves you, and he's committed to you, but he's not attracted to you.

So you see, there is a choice here. I can jump back into the fray and fight like hell for the life I want or I can sit back and live in hell in the life I have. Neither is an easy way out. There's not a quick fix or an escape from the hard things. After several weeks of feeling ill and out of sorts, I made a choice. If it's going to be hard, I may as well go with the hard that pays off in the long run. I'm going with the hard that gets me somewhere better.

I'm back. I'm down 21 pounds, and I'm ready to keep going. Bring it.