The Weight of It All

August 17, 2020

I stop myself. I already know the number. The three digit number on the scale in the bathroom. 

It will not help to step on it again, just hours after the previous time. 

I check it everyday now that I’ve seen the pounds gained during these uncertain times. I know the number by heart. It’s exactly 19 pounds larger than it was in March, before the pandemic. Don’t think the irony of that number is lost on me. 

While most people have been purchasing Pelotons and joining Beachbody groups, I became stagnant. I lost my emotions and worries in chips and salsa, and anything else gracing my pantry’s shelves.

Before the pandemic I felt confident and beautiful. Not perfect or flawless, but accepting of the body that held my soul. I started to love my imperfections and the unique flaws that made me, me. I started appreciating the journey that my body had endured and looked into the mirror each day with grace and mercy. 

That all changed the day I woke up, tried to wear real clothes for the first time in four months, and actually had somewhere to be. That’s when I noticed the extra cushion around my midriff and the extra fluff around my face. It’s when I noticed my shirts were a little tight and my pants nearly unable to button. 

I was embarrassed, full of shame and regret. 

Once again, I found myself in a cycle of health and wellness failures, of weight gained and confidence lost. I’ve been here before. A place and state of mind that makes it hard to start again, with a goal so far away, it’s as if it’s nearly impossible. The place where the number on the scale, and the image in the mirror, have you feeling defeated. You look at your treadmill and think, “why bother”. You look at a bowl of ice cream and think, “why not”. It becomes a dark place. A place that finds you immobile and uninspired. A stagnant place, lacking motivation and courage.

Right now, in this moment, I have a choice. Continue in my downward spiral. Continue in my idleness. Continue in my own destruction, both physical and mental. Or stop and reroute my energy and path.

I choose to reroute and reorganize. I choose change.

I refuse to stay here, in this state of unhealthy habits, and even worse, an unhealthy mind. I know it’s going to be tough. I know I’m going to want to quit. I know it won’t be fast or easy. But I also know I want to shed the weight of this pandemic. All aspects of it, not just the ones visible on my bathroom scale. 

I stand up and give myself a pep talk. One I’ve given before.  

Don’t stay here. Don’t stay stagnant. 
Stop looking at those numbers. Stop stepping on the scale. 
Instead, strap on your shoes, hit play on your favorite playlist and go! 

Your journey might last five minutes. It might last 55. What matters is that you started, again. 

xox, Chels
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A wife, mother and educator who has Indiana roots and a passionate spirit. Chelsea is a sappy romantic, coffee junkie, book collector, and person who wears her heart on her sleeve. She’s sarcastic, full of jokes, full of tears, and enjoys writing most when life gets messy or complicated. In 2017, Chelsea's mother passed away. Through her grief journey, she decided to take her mother’s advice and share her writing with the world. One day she gained the courage to honor her mother's wishes and write. It turned out to be one of the best decisions she's ever made.

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