My family accidentally staged an intervention...

Wow. So, it's been a year and a half since I was on here. Fun stuff.

I always think okay, this time I'm back, and I've got this, and I'm going to do it....buuuuut....who knows?

But I wanted to tell you about tonight, and what happened. And why it happened.

So, almost 2.5 years ago I gave birth to our perfect little Mini Miss. And she's perfect. And we love her. (And she's not really perfect - sometimes I think she's Satan. But I love her, so it's all good. [Please sleep tonight you devil child!!])

When I was pregnant with her, despite concerted efforts to watch what I ate and to exercise (I stayed attending regular kickboxing classes at the dojo until I was 30 weeks pregnant and performing roundhouse kicks literally made me pee my pants EVERY. SINGLE. KICK.) I ballooned to 60lbs heavier than pre-pregnancy. (Funny, too, because I "only" gained 50lbs with the Little Miss, for which pregnancy I sat around on my expanda-butt and ate ALL THE THINGS.... so.... go figure. The body does what the body's gonna' do!!)

Then, when I wasn't pregnant with her anymore I lost....maybe about 20 of those 60 lbs.

And I've been fighting tooth-and-nail to get the other 40 off ever since.

And it's driving me CRAZY.

Well, actually, technically, I was crazy before, but this crazy has been heading into the cray-cray zone.... Sigh.

In 2015 so far I've learned a lot about myself - I PROBABLY have PCOS, which is why I have the apparently insulin resistance I would have spoken about earlier - I CANNOT eat carbs. Of any kind. Just....can't.....do it - and why I can't lose weight. AND why there's 5 1/2 years between my kids (the fact I have kids is apparently somewhat of a miracle. Fun stuff).

I've also learned that I do not adjust well to...being thrown off course. hahaha I DO NOT like my plans to change, and I do not adapt well to unsuspected occurrences. Or whatever. I just don't do that crap well.

AND, I downloaded the Nike+ training app for running, and for the first time since my post-Little-Miss pregnancy when I was running regularly, started really running again.  My body LOVES running; I do not (this is not news).

Earlier this year I had a nasty bout of strep throat and literally  could not eat or drink for 3 days straight. I FINALLY got the number on the scale below 200lbs. But as soon as I was able to eat again I jumped back up to 'normal.'

Then, two weeks ago I tasted the sweet sweet victory of having FINALLY scraped my way back into OneDerland with a weigh-in under 200lbs. It was surprising and amazing, and felt GREAT.

......so obviously I had to sabotage myself. And eat. And eat. And eat.

I started this great intermediate 10KM training program with my Nike+ app on my phone, and was LOVING it - I HATE running, but I LOVE crushing distances and being #1 on my friends list for distance run this month. SHE ran a half marathon? Well, whoopee, I've run 50km more than her so BOO-FREAKING-YAH!

Problem is...the app schedules EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. How far you run, what type of run you do, and you check it off as you go.

So, at the end of week 3, when I'm scheduled to do my first 9.7km run on a Saturday that happens to also see me working with 3 patients, dealing with a family crisis, celebrating Father's Day, parenting my beautiful (devil) children, and all the other Saturday comings and goings.....

I DIDN'T GET MY RUN DONE.

A regular human being would just chalk it up to a busy day and adjust the training schedule.

But I can't DO that. The app SAYS that on Saturday I run 9.7km. On Sunday I rest. On Monday I run 6, Tuesday 6.4, Wednesday......... I CAN'T HAVE MISSED A RUN.

So, obviously, I've failed. I can't do it. It's only 8 weeks, I don't even need a full hour every day, and I can't even do it. I suck. I fail. I lose. No 10kms for me.

So I stop running.

And I eat. And EAT. AND EAT.

Croissants. Bowties (I LOOOOOVE farfalle! What is it about that shape of pasta that makes it so delectable?) Pizza. French Toast. TOAST (gross - why do we eat that?) Subway sandwiches.  Oh yeah, AND MORE CARBS.

I don't even want to know what next weigh in says.

My brother is getting married in 6 weeks.

We are moving into our new house in 8 weeks.

In 9 weeks I'm running Mud Hero.

In 11 weeks I'm running WipeOut.

Frig. I NEED to be under 200lbs. I CANNOT be 200lbs. I can't. My joints can't TAKE being this heavy.

So tonight, my parents, supported by my hubs (boo ganging up on me!! hahaha) corner me and ask about my running. Because I was running. Lots. For 3 weeks. And then it all stopped. ALL stopped.

Red, get off your ass and get running!! Your body NEEDS it. Do SOMETHING.

And I talk. About carbs. About how I can't do it. I keep trying and I keep failing. And I keep eating everything.

So now I have to run. And no one is eating carbs. And that's not fair to anyone. That's horrid that no one can eat what they want because I have no self-control.

But I CAN'T moderate my food. I can't do it. I've proven, over the last 2 years. I can't.  It's all or nothing, there's no in-between. I can't wean off. I can't just eat a little bit. I can't. I get lost, I don't even know I'm doing it. Or I do know, and I loathe myself with every single bite. But I keep shoving it down as fast as I can. So no one will see. So I don't get caught. Because I'm the only one who cares...

Dad pipes up and says "I would not eat carbs for 14 days to get your brother to stop smoking." (My brother did stop smoking, a little while ago now, too - congrats, bro!!)

My food is an addiction. Like my brother's smoking. And it's that bad that my dad will do this to help me.

And if we do this, if we do this together, I can do this. I've done it before. I've done it once. My body needs this. I need this. I need this success. I don't need a crash diet. I need to remind myself that I am in control. That I am the boss of me. That I am not controlled by my cravings or my mood, or even by what food I'm surrounded with. No one can make me eat a bun with my dinner. No one can make me cave and eat noodles.

And I will run. And I will train. And I will get faster, and stronger. And I will have fun. Because running these races, with my friends, and with my family? That's going to be fun.

I hate running. But I can do it. And I will learn to love it again. My body loves it.  I can do this.

14 days.

14 days.

14 days.

Here we go....