The journey begins

I must admit, I ate a monster serving of ice cream last night. I think I felt a tear drop roll down my cheek as I closed out that chapter of my life. sweets. so good. so bad.

I know. Someone who is reading this (who probably weighs 123 lbs and doesn't have to work too hard to stay fit) is saying, "Ethan! It doesn't have to be like that! You can have sweets; those things aren't bad!" To you, do I need to remind you that you just don't get it? Having a food addiction is tough. It's tough to kick, despite realizing you NEED to kick it when its far too easy (and often acceptable) to keep things just the way they are. Often, I've faced not even WANTING to kick it, knowing how difficult the road to 'recovery' is.

Speaking of recovery, you see, when I was 24, I weighed in at a whopping 246 lbs. That was big. Unacceptable. Uncomfortable. Embarrassing. Trying. Sad. I had a great mentor (who was also my boss) who asked if I would commit to allow him to help me. Perhaps it was because he was my boss, but I committed.  Before I knew it, I was eating healthy and exercising much. It sucked to plan meals. It sucked for my wife, who had to make the meals. X amount of protein here; Y amount of carbs there.  It was EXHAUSTING at times.  But I feel like I approached things, for the most part, correctly.  Over the span of 18 months, I lost 57 lbs, reaching a total weight of 189. It felt really good to be fit. I could breathe easier. I could frolic and play. I only had a small gut. Clothes fit. I was in control. It was nice.

Then it happened.

Stress. Change. Kids. A wife who (luckily) wasn't going to hit the road because her husband would eat too much. But it was mostly the stress. I was working a LOT and trying to plan for an MBA. Soon after came the move to Provo where my time with Intermountain Healthcare continued at American Fork Hospital. More stress came as we yet experienced great blessings. I was accepted into USU's MBA program, was asked to contribute significant volunteer time for my church was continuing to stay very busy with work. Exercise and eating healthy would come and go, mostly lasting three weeks at a time before hitting a wall. Then, the five to eight pounds I had lost during that time was back in my belly, perpetuating my discomfort and worsening my disbelief that I would get back on track. At 28, I was back to 140. Now, at nearly 32, I weigh 149 lbs. What the crap.

What am I going to do? I'm nervous. Mostly that I won't be successful at this. But having to give an accounting to others on my progress (and failures) is a way I'll more likely find success. And I worry that the very thing that tends to be my downfall (stress) will be tougher to manage with even more church responsibilities and a new job with more responsibilities.

We'll be OK. I'll be OK.