Confessions, Goals, and Hope for the Future

Typically, I try to keep my articles upbeat and uplifting with a dash of humor and sarcasm… because that’s generally me and what I am good at.  But if I am going to be completely honest with myself about some things I am struggling with right now, I need to be upfront and honest to you.

 Additionally, this is a really hard post for me to write.  I’m really putting myself out there today, about something I am combating.  I hope that you will be patient with me, loving, and understanding.

Those of you who have been faithfully reading my craziness these last eight or so years, have followed me though many, MANY adventures!  From student housing (the original Nutshell) to the Army life. From just 2 kiddos to 5.    Y’all followed us across the country from Utah, to Oklahoma and on to Tennessee! You’ve watched us and cried with us as struggled with our boys’ special needs, and you’ve cheered with us in all their growing successes.  You have been faithfully following us in our daily shenanigans and all our adventures in public school and now homeschool.  You’ve been with me and supported me through all my weight loss and fitness journeys, from barely being able to walk up a hill to running up mountains and half marathons! You’ve watched our family grow and laughed with us, weep with us, and celebrated with us. I can never thank you enough, my dear friends, for all your love and support, and I hope that in some small way, our lives have touched yours too.

I have always been up front and honest.  I am not ashamed to admit my failures, my struggles, and my life lessons.  Every time I write things down and share them, I do it for me.  It helps me to put things into words and organize my thoughts. This blog has helped me grow in more ways than I can ever begin to say. So, I am going to start my journey of healing once again by sharing with you some of the things I am going through right now.  I could really use a “You got this, Cat!” or “Praying for you, girl!”

 It is true that I have been very, VERY busy lately with the new baby and all the homeschooling going on.  I feel immensely blessed to have 5 healthy boys, a beautiful home, a loving, hard working, studly husband — but some times I feel that if I share my struggles and even complain a bit, I am being less than grateful for the wonderful things in my life. This simply isn’t true. I want you to know that I am SO grateful for all my many blessings.  I have a good life, and I love it.  And I owe God for all that I have.

 All that aside, the main reason I haven’t blogged very much in the last couple years, is that I don’t feel good about myself.  In fact, I am so humiliated by the way I look right now, I hardly leave the house. And even the very thought of leaving it makes me panic.

There, I said it.

 I worked very VERY hard to get my weight off originally, then again after I had number 3.  I was able to keep it off and maintain it for 3 years!!  I had no problem doing it.  But I don’t know if it was my thyroid, my age, or just the fact that I was having kid number 4, but the weight gain with that baby was almost 100 pounds.  I kid you not.  I ate EXACTLY like I did while I was maintaining.  I ran the WHOLE pregnancy.  In fact, if you remember, I ran myself into labor!  I was absolutely flabbergasted each time I went in to weigh.  The doctors would roll their eyes whenever I told them I was eating right and working out.  They gave me this whole lecture about calories in and calories out until I wanted to punch them in the nose!!  It isn’t that easy!  My body has really been through the ringer with these babies and my metabolism and thyroid are shot.  When I found out our surprise baby was on his way, my heart just fell.  Sure I felt very blessed that we were having another even if it wasn’t planned.  I know that God knows I can handle it…. Every baby is a blessing and a miracle…. but my selfish side knew I would be packing on more pounds, again.  And I did.  Although, this time I only gained 35… which makes the running total of 135 pounds gained in two years.

 Moment of absolute truth:  When I weighed in AFTER I had baby number 5, I was a DEVASTATING 325 pounds.

Three hundred and twenty-five pounds.

 Let that soak in.

 Less than 3 years ago, I was in the best shape of my life running a half marathon.  Today, I am in the worst I have ever been in.  And I am so ashamed, I can’t even look in the mirror.  I don’t know that face I see there. Who is that sad person that stares back at me?

When I left Utah, I was at my best, now, next month we are going back to visit family and I am absolutely sick about it.  I love my family and want to see them more than anything, but I am so embarrassed about my appearance. And the most frustrating thing of all, is that I worked harder than I ever have to keep the baby gain down and it was like my body just totally freaked out.  It doesn’t seem fair!  And it kills me to think that my family and friends might be judging me for it…. even though I know they love me and probably wouldn’t judge me… but I judge myself.  

Sometimes, I think God is letting this happen to me because I took too many selfies when I was feeling good about myself…  Don’t say I didn’t warn you! Seriously. Now, I won’t let anyone take ANY pictures of me. At all. In fact, I can get downright nasty about it.

Now, on the up side.  Those of you who know me, also know that I am not a quitter.  I don’t just roll over and take it.  No. I stand up and face my issues and gosh darn it, I do something about it!!! Change begins with US.  This begins with me.

These last few weeks, I have stopped feeling sorry for myself and started working out again.  I know what I can and can’t eat, and I have been cracking down harder on my portions than I ever have before.  I have taken into account that my metabolism is slower than it was after having two more kids and have adjusted properly.  I am taking the bull by the horns and getting my life back!

I have finally started getting out more, and try to swallow my humiliation that all my church clothes are ill-fitting and make me look like a sausage.  Instead of hiding on the back row, I force myself to sit up front and comment at least once. I am, as the military calls it, embracing the suck and soldiering on.

 I make myself put makeup on at least twice a week — allergies permitting.  And I do my hair… Sometimes.

 Baby steps, my friends… baby steps.

 But I got this.  Only I have the power to change my life.  Pull myself out of this dark place I found myself.  Sure, it wasn’t all my fault, I tried my best to keep the weight off.  But it WILL be my fault if I don’t do something now.  I need to believe in myself again, feel like I am worth it… and you know what?  My boys think I am worth it, and my husband, bless his heart, tells me every day how sexy and beautiful I am, and he thinks I am worth it.  And I know that the Lord loves me, he knows my heart, he knows my pains, and he knows my will to not give up!  With all of their help, I can do this!

 I don’t need to be skinny — I just want to be able to run again and feel healthy and good about myself again.

 Already, I am starting to believe in myself again… and writing this post is my first step to really facing this head on.  I’m going to do this… I know I can!

 So here are my starting goals and I am counting on y’all to hold me to this:

 Run a 5K without walking by the end of June.
 Run a 10 K without walking by the end of Aug.
 Run a Half Marathon by Thanksgiving.

 That’s it.  I’m not making any weight loss goals.  In fact, I made Ben hide the scale.  I am focusing only on my fitness… and the weight loss with come with it, I am sure.  I truly believe that if I give it my all, I will be feeling like myself again by Christmas!

 Thanks for being here for me!

 -Cat

 PS:  Just in case you have it in mind to mean well and try to get me to join your Beach Body whatever, the answer is no.  I love you, but no.  I know exactly what I need and how to get it.  And if I don’t, my husband is a personal trainer.  I don’t want any diet pills or promises of a quick fix.  There are no oils or body wraps to fix me.  It’s hard work, exercise, and sacrifice.  Plain and simple.  And when I cross that proverbial finish line, I want the satisfaction of knowing it was all me that got me there.  And I say this with all the love I have and no snappiness intended.