I posted this photo on Instagram (I’m lacie_b in case you’d like to connect there) with the following caption.
“Happy First Day of Spring! I don’t know about you, but I’m using this day as a perfect opportunity to refocus, renew, and re-energize myself. If you didn’t keep up your New Year’s resolutions, no worries. Resolutions don’t work. Permanent lifestyle changes do. Why not hit the ground running today?”
I am finally in the zone again. The zone is when I am feeling good and consistently making choices to help me reach my fitness goals. You know when you’re in it because you feel energized and excited. You KNOW that it’s possible to meet your goals. You’re doing right by your body and soul and it FEELS GOOD. You have energy and focus . You’re on fire.
Sometimes the hardest part about trying to find your way back into the zone is actually convincing yourself that you can be successful, that the sacrifice of your time, energy and thoughts will be worth it. Ladies, it’s worth it. Period. Here’s how I found my way back.
It was a slow progression. A few years I lost over 60 pounds. I did Weight Watchers and worked out regularly. In fact, when I saw how spin class really helped me tone up and slim down and completely change the shape of my lower body, I became and instructor. At the height of that particular stint in the zone, I was teaching spin three times per week. I was a rock star. I was strong and I was in control of my body.
Enter the stress of embryo adoption, multiple failed transfers, the injection of hormones into my body month after month and the miscarriage of my twins, and I was thrown from the zone right onto my rotund ass. I no longer believed I could do it. I couldn’t keep up with it. My mind was too occupied with being depressed and wondering if I would ever become a mom. It all seemed so hopeless. I was in the throes of mourning a loss like no other I had experienced and infertility. I HATE infertility. It does these things to you. It chips away at your soul, your self-worth, and your happiness.
Then, I had the very real possibility of finally becoming a mom on the horizon. The anticipation of adopting Rocky brought all that stress that comes along with adoption into my life. The anxiety of the adoption process consumed me. There were equally wonderful and amazing parts of the experience, but it all takes its toll. Add a newborn and adoption finalization and adjusting to a completely different life, and the zone seemed so far out of my reach. I was surviving. I was certainly happy to finally be a mom, and that was good enough for the time being.
Throughout all of it, I remained active. I walked regularly and sometimes even did my Couch 2 5K running program. Rocky was right along with me when the weather was good, chilling in the B.O.B. The problem was, I had no solid eating plan and my exercise was just moderate. I was a Weight Watchers dropout. I was sick of paying for what I already knew how to do and choosing to not follow the plan faithfully. I was sick of paying for a gym membership that I hardly used. It wasn’t working for me any more.
Little by little, as Rocky got bigger, my weight started slowly creeping down. I honestly attribute some of my initial weight loss to the size of this kid. He’s like a little bull-dog. He’s a solid 24 pounds and compact. I have no idea how many times I’ve held him while going up and down steps, squatting to pick things up and rocking him in my arms. It all adds up! I was too busy working and being a mom to very active baby to worry much about my nutrition plan. It just seemed to be one more thing I’d have to keep track of. No thank you. Last fall, people started noticing that I was losing weight. By Christmas, I was getting questions like, “How much weight have you lost, you’re looking really good.”
My self talk started to change. I started thinking that I might actually look good. I started looking forward to changing my looks, my clothing, my hair! Armed with renewed confidence, believing that I could do it, and no longer dragging around the hormones and depression that infertility comes with, I was ready to jump back into the zone sporting cute workout gear, a spring in my step, and a smile.
Up next: The Zone Part II: My Nutrition and Fitness Plan