It was a long hard, slow three months. The first few weeks of the program were horrible. I felt like that lame story of the clam without its shell. Vulnerable. I tweeted that I was wearing a coat of insecurity. I was afraid of everything. And I didn't know why. The only thing I was doing was recording my food in an online food diary and working out and I've done that a million times. But I was freaking out. About everything. My relationship with my husband. My job. My family. And then I started getting sick. This is inappropriate for a gardening blog but I got three bladder infections in one month. Three! And a really bad cold a bunch of other crap.
Other stuff happened that is probably relevant but I haven't figured out how, yet. Like I refused to weigh because it always derails me. Or so I say. It was really helpful that my husband and I were both in the program together and although I was highly motivated at times, the team at the gym was mostly dragging me along kicking and screaming. I never missed a session with the personal trainer, or the dietitian. But I was a slack ass when it came to getting in my extra cardio and at some point I stopped logging my food.
One day after complaining to my trainer about feeling extremely unmotivated I got an email from the dietitian. I hadn't sent her my food logs in a few days. Her email was short. "Alicia said you were really struggling this week. Is there anything going on that we can help with?" And I started an email to her that practically ended up like these blog posts. Long, rambling, cathartic.
Dear Cris, thanks for the email. I'm sorry I've been out of touch...
The intention of my email to her was to make excuses. And in the meantime to say something that would make me seem less lame. Or maybe make her feel sorry for me. Anything! But the more I wrote the more I was accidentally digging deeper and deeper into the problem.