When I said “slow descent,” I wasn’t kidding.

I know, I know. It’s been a while. 

A long while. 

I can tell you at this point in my fitness journey that the only secret I’ve learned is to keep going. 

Which I have not been. So no big surprise, I haven’t lost much. On the positive side (because I love looking at life through the positive side if at all possible) I haven’t gained either. I got down to a certain weight and I’ve pretty much maintained that. 

I took off my Fitbit about two weeks ago (or so) and just haven’t put it back on yet. I am going to. Recently I’ve been going to the doctors and trying to figure out how it is so difficult for me to lose weight. We may have an answer, but I haven’t made the next appointment yet. I have a slight fear of it. 

I’m afraid of either finding out there is something wrong, or finding out there is nothing wrong. 

I’ve struggled with my weight my whole life, it’s been my constant companion. My constant fall back joke, my way of viewing the world. It’s not that I’m not confident or that I don’t feel sexy. I am and I do. It’s just, always present. 

If I do have hormonal issues that are an attribute, it changes the conversation a little bit. At that point it becomes more than just my poor choices or eating habits. It becomes a “real problem” that I have to address in a different way. 

Of course, that’s ok. It’s not like I’m alone, but I will have to absolutely make sure I do not at any time become the one who says, “Oh I’m this weight because I can’t help it. It’s (insert whatever here).” I don’t want a crutch. I don’t want a defeatist attitude. If it’s anything I will have to just add or figure out how to adjust what I can and keep on keeping on. 

If it’s nothing, and it really is just my eating and exercise, then I have to own that I haven’t (despite all my fighting and efforts) been really doing everything I can. I can admit that that is true, even now. I don’t give it my all every moment of every day. I go weeks and months exercising and eating right and making minimal progress, and I also take weeks and months off, just trying to eat well and stay active with the occasional pizza or Nutella on toast.* 

I’ll make the appointment this week (or next) and get it over with. I’ll also get back on my fitness wagon tomorrow. I would say today but I’m hung over and I have a crunchy spicy chicken burger being delivered right this moment that says, “Nah girl, tomorrow is good.”

  
* And alcohol. I tend to forget how many calories are in that sweet mommy juice I love.