With my first two kids I had a really easy time losing weight just from breastfeeding. I could pretty much eat whatever I wanted and didn’t have to exercise and the number on the scale would keep shrinking. I had no idea how annoyingly lucky I was those times. Oh man, so not fair.
The weight isn’t melting off this time. It’s not budging at all, actually. It’s made me really upset. I’m not kidding, I have sat in the fetal position on my closet floor because some things still don’t fit. I’ve cried because it seems so unfair this time. The one good thing I had naturally done well was lose weight from breastfeeding and even that was no longer true. I know that’s totally silly. I’m so lucky for that to be my biggest problem.
But it sucks.
I don’t want to diet. I hate dieting. I hate depriving. I also don’t love exercising. Sweating is gross. I don’t like to be out of breath. I have no idea what to do with weights. I am pretty sure my body is incapable of doing a sit up. There are a million things I’d rather do than run on a treadmill.
But I have found two group dance exercise classes that I enjoy. I also joined a dietbet challenge for some motivation. I am aware that it takes hard work to maintain an active lifestyle and the ideal body type. I know it takes sacrifies to, and that I’m the only one that is standing in the way of me acheiving my goals. But it doesn’t make it easier. I’m reluctantly trying to flip that switch in my brain but it’s hard. My brain wants this to be easy.
My brain is also lazy.