When You Want to Throw In the Towel...

You know, I have a pretty awesome life.

I live, in what I believe, is one of the most beautiful places on earth.

Picture taken on our backpacking trip last summer

I have a secure job that provides for me and my son. While it may try my patience and sanity at times, I am fortunate enough to have a flexible schedule if need be.

I have a pretty darn adorable kid that constantly amazes me with his quick whit, sarcasm, heart of gold, short fuse and abundance of energy. 

 An amazing family, that I love with all my heart.

I have the best friend and father to my child I could ever ask for. 

The only thing I've felt like I'm missing is my health. I want to be at a healthy weight. I want to feel comfortable in my own skin. I want to be able to chase Wyatt around with ease. I want to continue hiking trips with Brad. I want all of these things.

I've worked hard in an attempt to achieve these things. Sometimes, I've worked a little too hard in an attempt to achieve them. Unfortunately, life has seemed to have other plans these past six months. If you've read here any amount of time, you've heard me whining about it all over and over.

I won't lie, as Monday unfolded into the insane day it was, I didn't know what else to do but laugh. In fact, on the phone with my boss this morning, he said he still can't believe how calm I was after that type of an injury. However, as the day went on yesterday, I started to get angry. Maybe it was the lack of sleep. Maybe it was the immense pain I was in. Maybe it was complete and utter frustration. Maybe it was concern about possible surgery in the near future for my child. Probably, it was a combination of all these things. 

I'd just had it. I went through this list of all the amazing things in my life. I have it pretty stinkin' good. Screw size 6 jeans. Screw endless workouts and food tracking and giving up all things yummy. Where has it gotten me? 

I ate my feelings- again. Tears were shed. Simply, I have been a bit dramatic.

Lately, this whole healthy living thing is just overwhelming. Finding time for workouts... Heck, trying to make it one stinking week healthy enough to be able to workout, period. Or, one stinking week where I feel well enough to prepare healthy meals.

Sometimes I read other blogs, or see other people and that jealousy thing kicks in. Sometimes, especially lately, I've been asking myself, "why me?" I want to be able to workout 5-6 days a week. I want to be able to run outside. I want to feel well enough to get a good grocery shopping trip in, food prep and eat all the healthy things. And, as much as I hate to admit it, I physically have been unable to as of late. Literally. No exaggeration. Completely unable to do these things no matter how hard I've tried.

So, wallowing in self pity last night, I had a decision to make. I can throw in the towel. Give up. Be happy with all the amazing blessings I do have and just forget all the personal goals I've set  for this year in terms of fitness and weightloss...

Or,
I can pick myself up. I can start over and go back to the basics. I can focus on what I can control.

I'm going to fight like hell. That's what I'm going to do. Plain and simple.

I'm going to take this down time while I recover to finish Wheat Belly. To research nutrition. It's no secret that the food side of things is where I struggle. Now's the time to wrangle that in. I can't control the water retention from the Prednisone, but I can do my part to limit any added poundage above and beyond that.

I may not be able to run, do plyometrics, or walk for that matter... but that doesn't mean I have to sit on my butt in front of the TV for the next 4-8 weeks. Upper body has always been my weakness; this is my opportunity to really focus on that. I'm going to be taking it easy for at least the next month. My body is screaming for the break. But, that doesn't mean I can't do a little something each day. I'm going to work my arms, shoulders and back. I'm going to make sure I'm still moving. Any little bit is better than not at all.

Progress will be small while I recover from this one. (Lungs, toe and more...) Odds are against me, and despite my best efforts, the scale and my jeans may show no progress at all. It's life. It's my life. But, I will make it through this rough patch, and I'm going to come out healthier and stronger on the other side. 2014 will still be my year. I just have to find a different way to approach it.