In two months, I could weigh 300 pounds.

Frankly, that is not as scary as it should be, but it is eye-opening. I started going to the gym in February, and I made progress. I overcame my fear of the treadmill, and I even ran. To top it off, I inspired my sister (who is nowhere near my size…and actually works out) to run. Ooh, and did I mention all those reps I did with a 30-pound bar, and how I felt as if I had found my happy place (hate cardio, LOVE strength training)? Sounds like the start of something beautiful, but then I kicked in.

I decided it was best, for a number of reasons, to stop going to the gym, and continue working out at home. That wasn’t as bad a plan as it sounds, but the gym doesn’t require the one thing working out at home does–choice. It recently hit me, yet again, that I’ve always improved my health or lost weight by accident, by default, or for some reason that made me feel as if I had no choice. I’ve never really had to CHOOSE to get healthy, even though I’ve allegedly committed to it several times. To be honest, the only reason I started the gym was that I didn’t want to fail a medical I would do a couple¬†months later. Having failed at improving my health, but passed that medical, I now have no ‘reason’ to get healthy–but for my own good.

When it comes down to it, that’s why this is so hard. If I had to get healthy to benefit someone else, I would have done it ages ago. If I cared, I wouldn’t have let fear trap me into returning to my bad habits after losing a significant amount of weight five or six years ago…without even trying. If, at that point, I had chosen to focus on my health, I could have been healthy for the past five years, rather than having no guarantee of either health or another five years. But, this is what I do. Something good starts to happen, and I sabotage myself.

So, I don’t really have a plan now. Yes, seeing the scale in the 290s again was scary, but that won’t do it. I just have to keep making those little choices, as I’ve been trying to do for the past couple days. I have to choose to eat healthy food, say no to eating what I know is bad for me. I have to get moving. Working out works for me, and I can’t deny that…so I need to literally get up off my ass and do something…while I still can.

No clue how or if this is going to work, but I’ve decided to cut out the extremism I’m prone to. I want to make little choices I can keep making for the rest of my life, even though doing that will be hard at first. I guess, in a sense, I’m starting over (again!), but that’s okay. I’m not in this to be a superstar. I’m here to learn, even if it’s the same lesson.