What motivates you

So.....for the past several weeks, I have been looking for something to really motivate me to get back to working out and eating better.  Nothing I seemed to try would get me back "into it."  I had gained about 12 pounds back, of the weight I had lost and I couldn't be more disappointed in myself. 

Quintin gave me a little motivation...or he tried to.  And he was on the right track.  I really thought he had hit the jackpot with this one.  As you know, we are getting ready for our 2nd annual stay-cation.  It is August 30-September 1.  Friday until Sunday.  It was a lot of fun last year and I can't seem to get it out of my head as it nears.  Super excited!

Anyway...Q's idea was that for every TWO days that I worked out and ate healthy, he would spend an hour working on the upstairs.  NO BRAINER, right???  Yeah...that's what I thought.  I wish diabetes wasn't so hard to live with.  I was stoked when he first came up with this idea.  I couldn't wait to get home and get started, getting back on track. 
 
Now...for those of you with diabetes and/or love someone with diabetes...it isn't always as easy as it may seem.  I was stoked but I was still exhausted.  I still didn't want to put anymore into anything, than I needed to.  I would sleep 12 hours at a time because at least I knew I wasn't eating and my blood sugar would be forced to go down.  I wasn't willing to go the extra mile.  And so...there sat my AB lounger...in the corner...just crying for my attention.  I gave it a little bit of attention though.  I put the walker on top of it. 

Yes...there it sat in my livingroom with a flattened out walker sitting upside-down on top of it so I could keep Miss Bella from trying to get in it and getting stuck.  The walker...not the AB Lounger.  Many of you may know that this situation ate at me.  It drove me crazy that my house not only isn't back in order but if ANYONE stopped by, they were going to see my crap piled up on top of my exercise equipment that I obviously am not using.  Because I still have what some call a spare tire. 
 
I like to think of myself as the Midas Mom. 

*Breathe*

A couple of days after Q had presented me with this idea, he started working on the upstairs.  I had no choice but to help him.  After all, he had TRIED to motivate me.  It just didn't work.  Yes, I can hear what you're thinking.  "Poor Q."  Don't worry, I hear that all the time!  This time though, I was the one thinking it.  Here I had let him down too.  The only thing I could do at this point was to just bust my ass and help him get these projects dwindled down.

I'm not so crazy as to think he's going to get all his "in-the-works" projects done before my friends show up to have an adult weekend but I am just crazy enough to push push push until we get as many done as possible.  So I started pitching trash and sheet rock out of the upstairs bathroom window, into his trailer.  I didn't stop until ALL of it was out of there.  Some of the stuff was heavy but I made myself do it.  Me and my weenie arms. 

He got the "bastard joints" done in the new closet and got it textured.  That makes me laugh.  Bastard joints.  As soon as that dried, I got busy painting it.  Chocolate brown.  It's gorgeous.  I may never come out of the closet again!!!  About a year and a half ago, we got some hard wood floor laminate on a FB swap site and I had forgotten about it.  Q pulled it out and got it put in the closet.  It's amazing.  All I am waiting for now is the trim to be cut and put on and my clothes rack installed.  Then I can USE it! 

Now...it won't be done then, but it will be USABLE!  I am so excited!!!  About a closet!!  Maybe his little plan was back-firing on me.  The more I looked at what was getting done, the more I wanted to do.  I wasn't exercising though.  I had incorporated more fruits in my diet than what I was doing before, but still wasn't getting any "exercise" in. 

Then I get a phone call. 

Someone I love very very much called with some news that they were just diagnosed with diabetes.  I could have fallen over by the stroke of a feather.  The last person on earth that I ever would have imagined getting this stupid diagnosis.  And it hurt my feelings.  Bad. 
I know it has nothing to do with me; the part that they became diabetic.  Because I know that if we are taking care of ourselves, it wouldn't happen. Well for the most part anyway.  For some reason, I had to hold back tears as they told me what their doctor said.  And this person has it easy right now.  What I wouldn't give to go back to that point and start over.  "No meds at this time.  See if you can control it with diet and exercise."  Oh yeah...and lose some weight before you come back in a few months. 

So easy for a doctor to spit out when they don't have to deal with this stuff.  Conversations about what to eat. What we get tired of eating.  What are the do's.  What are the do not's.  What about substitutions.  What about eating at restaurants.  What about when you're in a group setting.  It all came up and I did the best I could...considering I'm a really bad person to turn to when it comes to eating "right."

So...I'm not sure why this hit me as hard as it did.  When I hung up, I cried.  I felt like I had not only let myself down (HUGE) but I had let this person down.  This person I love with all of my heart.  I felt like...I don't know how to put this...as long as I have been dealing with this...I should have been a better "role model," so to speak. 

I should have been taking care of myself and never stopping so this person could have maybe prevented this...or fought it without knowing.  Does that make sense?  I feel like I have betrayed us.  I feel like a big fat loser.  An ugly, out-of-shape loser that has let down all of her loved ones.

So I'm back on the wagon.  THAT phone call was the thing that lit the fire under my ass.  Under my heart.  Under my heels.  It has me going strong right now so I am just going to go with it.  Because I don't know how long this spurt will last.  I can only hope this was the last motivating reminder I will ever need.  Today, the walker got put away and the AB lounger got pulled back out. 

I have my alarm set for every half hour...since I haven't exercised for a long time...and then I have five minutes to do fifty crunchers.  So far today I have done three hundred and fifty crunchers.  I still have to go to work later today so I am limited on what I can do but at least I've started back up. 

Tomorrow, I will add fifty weight lifts...with my five and ten pound weights...for my arms.  Since I don't own a kettle ball or whatever those things are called.  Make do with what you have, right?!

So say a little prayer for me please.  Pray that I will keep on keeping on and I will continue to lose weight and get healthy.  Not just for me...but for those that I love; and love me.  And while you're at it...say a prayer for all of those around us that are dealing with internal killers...both silent and not-so-silent.  Life is hard but having the added pressure of illness makes it even harder. 

Until next time...thanks for reading!