Run Forrest, run!

This is my bridge.  My "run your ass off" bridge.  My mom got started walking it the summer Ayla was born.  I went with her on and off, but I got out of doing it when I got back to work that Fall.  Too tired, unmotivated, etc.

Well, I'm baaaaack.  5 months until our wedding.  When I weighed in on Saturday, I was at 154.8.  I had to go back on Sunday to make sure it was true!  I've been trying to get below the 155 mark, which hasn't gone so well.  I kicked off my whole weight loss with Phase 1 of the South Beach Diet.  It went great-I didn't feel deprived after the first few days of adjusting to life without my love, carbs.  I lost about 6-7 lbs, but as soon as Phase 2 began (reintroducing 1 carb at at time over a period of weeks), I fell off the wagon.  I tell you what, that first piece of bread was my gateway carb!

Now I am just watching my calories on MyFitnessPal, which is a pretty rad website.  Yep, I said rad.  80s child.  I am also back on the bridge.  Trying to run my ass off.  Not actually my ass, I'd like to keep that, but my belly and all that jiggle I've got from my head to my toes.  I've got about 25 lbs to go, and I honestly don't know if I'll make it.  I don't really think I will, but I've also come to the point where every pound I lose will be a victory.  

I'm pretty proud of the fact I am interval running.  I can be (and have been) legally disabled, but I am pushing myself.  I am able.  Less able than some...but able!  Some days are harder than others, but I am doing it.  I feel like I am representing what's possible for RSD patients.  I don't intend on becoming a marathon runner or winning running races, but I am fighting against the body I have that I don't want.  I don't want to be a fat bride.  I don't want to get pregnant again and be at a greater risk for pre-eclampsia or gestational diabetes.  

The hardest part of my weight loss journey to admit is that I weigh more now than the day I left the hospital.  Not by much, but still a good 4-5 lbs heavier.  I put on around 13-14 lbs after leaving the hospital.  Poor eating habits/putting myself last plus Zoloft plus relative inactivity are to blame for those pounds.

So I run.  And when I think I can't go any further, I run some more.  I run until my arms are numb-an unpleasant side affect of having RSD (poor circulation).  When I'm done running, my reward of endorphins make me remember a bigger reason to run.  I feel healthier, I feel happier, and I feel strong.  It takes me back to the days when I worked out 5 days a week, at least an hour a day.  When I was chosen to demonstrate stretches for a poster at the campus gym.  (I have to admit, I was a total gym rat, and I loved it!)

For now, I will run my ass off.  Five months from now, I hope to report back and say I've gotten to my goal.  But even if I didn't, I'm guessing I'll still be going.  For my heart, for my future babies, and for a chance to wave hello to the cute dolphins that are my view from the bridge.

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