I’ve been struggling. When I started working on realizing our business, I knew I would have sleepless nights. I knew I would be exhausted, frustrated and stressed beyond belief for at least the first year – those are just the initial consequences of jumping head first into the dark waters of the unknown. But despite the planning and preparation, I never factored in how profoundly it would affect my body.
Over the last two months of being open to the public, I have mostly adjusted to my night owl schedule: asleep anywhere between 3-6 a.m. and awake around noon or 3 p.m. at the latest. There are two upsides: 1) I get to talk to my West Coast friends a LOT more now, and 2) There’s very little traffic to and from work. But every day I have circles under my eyes that I embarrassingly cover up with makeup. All of my clothes fit much tighter, if at all. I’m spending a good chunk of each morning languishing over the dozens of shirts and pants that make me feel like a poorly packed sausage when I try them on. Honestly, it’s humiliating. And with GenCon less than 30 days away, and the daily schmoozing with customers, it’s making me feel a whole lot of helpless.
Last week I drummed up the courage to finally step foot on that fucking awful scale just to see where things were falling. Well, that was a big mistake. My weight is at its highest in 5 years. In 2010-2011, the universe seemed to align and I got started with Beachbody products, drinking Shakeology, and really paying attention to my fitness. I became certified in three different group fitness formats and even started teaching classes a few times a week. It was a GREAT time for me. I went from a lumpy lazy 200-pound girl to a fun, athletic 160-pound (WHAT) young lady hell-bent on taking over the world. But even at 160, I felt fat. I’m 5’10” so there’s really NO reason that should have happened, but my confidence at the time was so abysmal that I would hate myself in the mirror even though I was wearing a small T-shirt and size 10 jeans. I look back at that now and want to bitchslap old Andrea in the face.
So after two stressful jobs, horrible bosses, family drama, depression, marriage, honeymoons, vacations, etc, here we are, right back where I started around 200 pounds. I feel like a giant beached whale wading through my restaurant, even though I have muscle and athletic ability that old 200-lb Me never had. But working out is not the problem. In fact, I’ve been steadily working out almost every morning for the last two weeks and have only gained 5 pounds. (No, I’m not pregnant. No, my thyroid is fine.)
I AM OBSESSED WITH FOOD.
When you’re an emotional eater, respond to stress by eating, or just fucking love food like me, then it can be dangerous to eat out. Now imagine you have unlimited access (cheap and or free) to glorious mounds of golden-fried tater tots, decadent chocolate cake, juicy burgers, deliciously greasy french fries, and beer – SO. MUCH. BEER.
Yeah, you’d be gaining weight too, right?
It’s so hard to own a pub and not indulge. Even when I try, I have a hard-as-hell time resisting the food and drink all around me. And my body is clearly starting to show the effects of sleep deprivation, high stress, and grazing like a cow on a California Sunday.
So shut the fuck up Andrea and listen. It’s time to stop navigating into your jeans Indiana Jones style. It’s time to stop nom-ing on fried foods like the world is ending. It’s time to get off my rear and start acting like Commander Shepard instead of the post-Horizon, early retirement version.
#BecomingShepard is my new motivation. Shepard is my hero and I really need to focus on her again not only for costuming potential, but general motivational guidance. It’s starting with using my activity tracker again. I logged back into Fitbit for the first time in forever and it kindly reminded me that I’ve gained 18 pounds since the last time we talked. Thanks, FitBit. If you’re on FitBit, please feel free to add me and tease me/praise me for not/working on this.
I was doing really well channeling Shepard’s inner badass preparing for MegaCon, but it’s something else doing it with this new life of mine. So here’s the deal: I’m going to work one day at a time on trying to get my butt back on the path to healthy land. I may not make it one day without a tater tot in the beginning, but that’s my goal. (Guys, the tater tots are GOOD.)
Some Goals —>
- Get back to a size 10, but first, fit into the pants I have because it shouldn’t take an hour to get ready in the morning.
- Exercise every day, even if just active recovery / yoga / walking
- Setup and log my macros, even if I hate doing it and whine every single time fried food doesn’t magically fit into them.
- Temporarily limit alcohol consumption/tasting to 2 days a week!
- Curb my caffeine usage after 7 p.m. and attempt to get more rest.
- Stop eating after 10 p.m.
- Drink more water and less iced tea!
- Work back up to an ability to do pull-ups!
- Register for a 5k and rock that thing!
- Plan my meals BEFORE I get to the pub – not in the heat of the moment when tater tots and burgers are all up in my face taunting me with their deliciousness.
So that’s where we are this morning. Thank you to all of you who have already supported me on social media. <3 It really helps to have an army of supporters.
I can do this, I just have to fucking do it.