Everybody was breathing heavily as they led us onward like a herd of cattle ready to be slaughtered. You could practically smell the anticipation, sweat, fear, and excitement in the air. Fear has taken me over. Once they open those gates, I know the zombies will make a feast out of me. I need to focus and follow the rules of zombie apocalypse. I am afraid that I will be their sampler appetizer tray as the faster people exercise rule number 1… Cardio. As the bell rang and the runners ran out of the dark passageway, I tried to catch up and a hill surfaced through the dust. Forget being appetizers for the zombies, I think I will die trying to come up this hill, no, a mountain. My fear was soon replaced with exhaustion and only minutes have passed since the race started. Strangers lend their helping hand and yelled motivational words as they pass me by. I benefited with rule number 6… travel in groups. Since my wave has passed me and I was met by the next wave of people, I was able to dodge the dead and run free while I avoided being easy prey for the zombies. I lost a flag, and threw the other flag to a passer zombie to save my life but I still have one flag. Slope, after slope of mud and I have finally reached the end of the course. The smell of beer has blinded me, turning me into a crazed lunatic as I rushed for the finish line and zoomed through the crowd to get my free beer. Then a zombie was hiding and snatched my last flag. Noooooooooooooo!!! Oh well, time for refreshments.
I have heard people say this, “I am so addicted to working out!” Why can’t I be addicted to working out like them? I always have to drag my feet as if it was chained to the couch or bed to even get ready to go to the gym. This process is just so excruciatingly painful. My mind starts racing thinking of reasons why going to the gym is not the best idea right now. But once I am in the gym I get energized and hyped up.
There is only 3 months left till my goal of participating in the Zombie Run for your Lives 5K Mud Run. I am so scared. I have been slacking off, making excuses and now I am suffering. Last year I joined the Irvine 5K Mud run and that was tough. I did enjoy myself despite the fact that I was second to the last person to finish the lap. I was hoping to change the result up a bit so I joined the Zombie Run. But time flies so fast. I signed up in May and now it is the middle of July and the Run is on October 20th. Man I wasted 3 months not training. This is bad. I really need to be addicted to working out instead of food or else I will really turn into a zombie and never see the end of the race!
Let us define an addict…
Per Dictionary .com an addict is an enthusiastic devotee of a specified thing or activity.
Per Merriam-webster.com an addict is to devote or surrender to something habitually or obsessively.
I have the worst kind of addiction and yes I am talking about food. This is the worst because you can not live without food. Drugs, gambling and alcohol, a person can live without these bad habits, but how do you rehabilitate yourself if you are addicted to the thing that keeps you alive.
Bread the fluffy layers and the buttery smell, just typing these words leaves a tingly feeling on my finger tips. Meat, that red tender juicy meat that is always paired with steam veggies, rice or potatoes I feel my cholesterol just rising to the peak as I think of each scrumptious bite. Then there is this thing that you can never say never just the smell of it hypnotize you and making you eat more egg and pancake and coffee. BAAACCCOOONNN…. Who ever invented it is evil, EVIL!
I have been doing good at this one diet till I ….. yeah the sight of bread has me salivating and having chills all over my body. Many would think that you could take a little bite just to satisfy your craving. But really how little is little. I think my addiction to bread is clouding my judgement of size. Please God, Budha, and all the other gods out there give me the strength not to open my mouth and have a bite of that fresh, buttery smell, and soft white bread. This is killing me. Just writting about bread is making me sick.
Why do I always feel like when I am on a diet or working out I am torturing myself? I feel like it is self mutilation. Yes I am exaggerating. But if you think about it why did we invent all these fatty food that is bad for us and eat it for years? No, I am not finidng an excuse for me to eat them. I am just so mad at the people who invented the slurpee or bread or pizza or burgers!!!!!!!!!!
Losing weight has always been my main new year’s resolution for… many years. So I really don’t blame people that have lost confidence in me to even succeed in getting fit. Support is one of the main ingredients to succeed in this journey but just like trust I guess I have to earn it. What sucks about this is the fact that getting started is one of the hardest things to do and without support I need to put 200% of effort to get my body moving. Where is motivation when you need it the most? Five months till the zombie run. Why does it sound like its tomorrow?
Sushi, Korean BBQ, Pizza, Pho, …. The list could go on and on about foods that I love. I have struggled with my weight for years and it is best described as a love/hate relationship. I love to eat but I hate that I gain weight. If my eyes have a belly then I am doomed.
Promising that I would change is way too hard. I say this because it takes twice the effort to teach an old dog a new trick. Let’s just say eating has become a habit of mine. We all know how habits are hard to change. I could say I am an emotional eater but I eat either way, happy or sad, stressed or not.
The real battle is my motivation and how much do I want this. How much do I want this? I want this so much that I am sick and tired of just day dreaming that I will lose the weight one of these days. I am tired of listening to the other girls get hit on by guys while I am a fly on the wall. I am tired of not wanting to try out clothes in the fitting room just because I don’t want to see myself in a full view mirror. I am scared that I may one day not be able to ride a rollercoaster because I would not fit on the seat. If you are asking me why am I writing this now, I want to admit to myself that my weakness is not my being fat, it is my pride, where I convince myself that everything is fine. I always have a fat joke and trust me they are pretty funny but thinking about it makes me sad. But that is my defense mechanism, to be fat but at least funny. It would drive me nuts to admit to myself that I am fat and pathetic. But I watched a video at work and they mentioned that one way to a healthy you are to admit your vulnerabilities.
I am putting myself out there now to show my desperation to deal with this dilemma. Then, do something about it, right? I wish it was that simple though many may argue it is. There is a whole list of excuses why diets fail me or why it is such a struggle to lose weight. Sad but true, sometimes I start to believe my own excuses. But I decided with all these failures I have to find a way to pull through. Since I rebel when I restrict myself in eating junk food or exercising everyday, then I would handle my problem with a different approach. I believe that in small successes, the bigger goal will eventually be easier to reach. I practice this belief at work especially when the obstacle made a huge negative impact on a project.
But I do doubt myself. Failure is a norm to me. What if the results end with the same thing? What then? Insecurity leads to negativity. Negativity unfortunately is a very familiar feeling I have always welcomed. It is hard to explain why I would even think that way. Through all the negativity, I have found ways to look at things differently. So, one positive thing in my life, even how small, has a big impact on me.
I am known to make rash decisions that eventually make my life difficult in a way. With that said, I have tried to be stagnant. Yes another rash decision that I have made to try to calm the waters after the storm. Then reality kicks in. Time does not wait for anybody. If something has to be done then so be it. I love to psych myself up and dream about how the end results will turn out, but that is my downfall. I love to dream but I hate the struggle. There is a saying, “Embrace the struggle and the results will be much sweeter”; I hope that this is true.
Wish me luck on this journey of knowing the real me and shedding not only the pounds of fat but also the negativity and regrets.