I know I haven't posted since May, but I suppose you can say life happened. I've taken seven classes for my doctorate degree and will be enrolled for another three this spring. The spring will be my last crazy busy semester.
I could make every excuse in the book for falling off the bandwagon this past 1-2 years in my weight loss journey. (Actually, upon editing this post, I find it funny that I call it a weight loss journey and not a lifestyle change becuase it really needs to be a lifestyle change; a change in how my mind works and functions as it relates to food and exercise.) I could blame it on school (started Fall 2010) and working full time, or my move to a house 14 miles farther from work (December 2009), or my failure in running a half marathon (February 2011), or my new-ish relationship (September 2010), or my volunteer work, or just the everyday preoccupation of my mind. The fact is, I will be asked hard questions in a couple of weeks by my new trainer and I don't know if I have any answers. My current trainer is moving his career forward and is becoming a firefighter. I wish him the best, of course, since it's a pretty sweet gig and great for his family. I think, though, as a friend, he may have let me slide in accountability a little. A new trainer could (and will) be a good thing, but it also has to be the right trainer because Matt was the right trainer for me at the time I needed him. With his guidance next week, we will discuss who may take over that role. It's funny. I used to always pick up and leave when things were progressing to "comfortable," but I'm afraid of the accountability, something I should have been doing every single day. I suppose it's best to face it now rather than in my coffin. I used to run from feelings and getting close to people, but now change (and a change of scenery) kind of scares me. Am I growing up? Or am I just not challenging myself enough?
My best friend would say that I'm settling, that I see life for me as "good enough" and it's my fear of taking chances, or perhaps that I'm not afraid of failing but I'm even more afraid of succeeding. I have to agree that my half marathon failure was probably the item that hit me hardest, and sometiems I feel that when I fail, I might as well fail the best way I know how - completely. My best friend could possibly even call me a coward for not moving life forward; we can be brutal like that.
What I do know is that I'm going to miss my brother (my current trainer). I am determined that the two and half years that we spent together was not for nothing; in other words, it was for something. Matt (my current trainer) probably knows more about me and what I have been through than anybody else, and he's completely right when he says that I think too much and that's the interference that has caused a reversal in my weight loss progression. He and I discussed a few months ago the idea of switching trainers to get out of my stalemate because he wanted me to keep progressing. Now, through fate alone, I have that chance and I'm going to take it. Perfect timing for a new year's resolution, eh?