A Mid-Life Awakening

Starting my new 8 week plan today. I’m nervous bc it doesn’t seem like it’s enough to push past this stall.

Of course, we leave Thursday to drive 18 hrs to drop our daughter off at college. I still need to find the time to workout and eat healthy on this trip. A trip that will take us through Nashville on the way there and Memphis on the way back. Two incredible food cities. I can’t allow myself to get derailed this week. I’ll meet with my doctor the Friday after we return, so I plan to talk about all of this with her. Maybe I need more hormone tests? Maybe I need to go up to 1 mg dosing?

She started me on Wegovy .25mg. I was fully prepared for all of the crazy side effects…nausea, migraines, diarrhea, exhaustion. So, I built up a little courage and gave myself the first injection. Nothing. Nothing the next day. In fact, zero side effects whatsoever. I did begin to notice as the week progressed that I wasn’t as hungry. Felt full earlier. Minor changes that I thought might just be in my head. But whatever works.

I also knew I needed to be active if I really wanted it to work properly. So, I started to go on walks every morning. It was June here in Texas, so while hot, it wasn’t brutal quite yet as long as I could wrap up by 7 am. It all seemed to be working. Lost five pounds pretty quickly which was the spark I needed. When I met with my doctor again, I shared my progress and she asked about food noise and hunger. I explained I still could get a little hungry and craved certain foods, so she upped my dosage which is standard for Wegovy users anyway. She also recommended I start adding protein supplements and strength training. Which means. I have to join a gym. 😐

I’m not stranger to the gym. In fact, right before my daughter was born, I was in the best shape of my life. Running several miles every day, fitness training, lifting weights. And would have continued through my pregnancy had I not experienced complications. I had always planned to get back into those habits after she was born, but I underestimated how challenging life with a new baby could be. So that turned into years of neglecting my body.

I joined the gym two weeks ago. I’ve only missed two days. One bc I was beyond sore and exhausted. The other was my daughter’s 18th birthday so that day was all about spoiling her. I didn’t feel guilty at all.

My first few days were daunting, intimidating. I felt out of place. This fat middle aged woman looking lost and alone was embarrassing, but I reminded myself no one here cares.

I built out some routines. I reminded myself I know how to do this. I’ve done it before. Stop paralyzing yourself with procrastination and just fucking do it. Again…no one cares what you’re doing at the gym. I also have this belief that anyone who judges someone who is out of shape at the gym is just a shitbag anyway, so why waste any energy worrying about it.

But now, I’m comfortable there. I actually want to be there. I look forward to going every day. I’ve even become slightly obsessive about it. Something I tend to do with most things when I’m motivated.

However, I’ve hit a stall in the weight loss part of this journey. It’s been two weeks since the scale has budged. It’s frustrating bc it’s new territory for me. When I’ve wanted to lose weight before this stage of my life, it’s always just been a steady progression. So hitting this two week stall hurts. When I weighed myself this morning I was almost three pounds heavier than yesterday. And I know weight can fluctuate for a myriad of reasons, but it’s maddening to see it go up when I’m hopeful for a lower reading.