Wednesday, September 30, 2015

#271: Being held accountable

I met with my trainer today. I didn't want to go, but I went! [I paid for the session, after all!]

I was scared to go because I didn't want to admit to him that I hadn't been logging my food, have been eating a lot, missed two workouts and generally feel blah.

When I found him at the gym I asked if we were going to take measurements, to which he replied that we should. This was the part I was dreading the most. My measurements were mostly up over last month, which I had know was going to happen, as I ate my own personal version of the "Last Supper" yesterday [read: I just kept eating regardless of the consequences].

A warm wash of shame came over me as I listened to his report of the numbers. He didn't actually say anything mean or critical, he just stated facts. But then, after a pause, he said it looks like this could be because you aren't logging your food like I asked you to. He then said a few more things that were direct hits:
  • The weight goal is mine, not his
  • Achieving a lower weight, whatever my goal number is, will help achieve the goal of running faster
  • If I weigh less, it is free speed. I don't have to cart the extra weight up the hill [there followed a spewing of numbers and statistics illustrating how must faster people run per pound lost]
  • He can help me get faster with workouts, etc., but the food is all up to me. He's got basically nothing to do with that part. Up. To. Me.
  • I look fine; whatever number I want to get down to is totally up to me
When he stopped talking I heard myself say something like It's so much harder to change how I eat than I thought it would be. I hate seeing how much one little thing affects me [Uhg. I heard it and it sounded so self pity-ish].

The next thing he said made it all worth while. My trainer said that it's probably more like you've gone over a few hundred calories for a few days but then have a day where you go out to eat or just blow it and go over by like 1000 calories—those are the days you are probably feeling.

Wow! I was stunned that he knew. He knew! He gets it. I'd been afraid to be honest because I thought I would be berated and criticized; but really I was met with understanding and therefore a brand of compassion. I was reminded [yet again] that I tend to think I know everything and that I'm right all the time. He showed me that what I thought was right wasn't, and what a good thing it was that I was wrong!

Needless to say I've logged my food today.

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