79 Days

Once upon a time, I used to be a weight loss blogger. I had a day of reckoning back in 2008, when I stepped on a scale and saw a number I never thought I would see. I am not sure exactly what clicked for me, but I decided enough was enough and began waking up to walk slowly on the treadmill. I counted calories. Days added up to weeks, which turned into months, and within the first year I lost 50 pounds. Over the course of 2 years, I lost 90 pounds, and I blogged the ups and downs, including what I’m sure now were boring posts about workouts and weigh-ins and my newly-discovered love of running. As the years passed and trials stacked themselves on top of each other like so many weights on a barbell, the number on the scale began ticking up, the workouts slowed until they stopped, and running took a backseat to ice packs and hip surgeries.

On Saturday, I had another day of reckoning. I weighed myself and saw a number I never thought I would see, one even higher than that fateful day 11 years ago. Within the past year alone I have gained almost 25 pounds. The Erin of January 2019 wouldn’t have cared much about this fact, since she was too busy sinking in the deep waters of depression, but the Erin of October 2019, the one who now has her head above water and has been treading there for the better part of a month? This Erin cares very much, and this Erin is going to do something about it.

Today, I’m going to start counting calories. I’m going to start practicing saying no to my sweet tooth. I’m going to learn all over again that delayed gratification is better than instant indulgence. I’m going to remember how it feels to see the number go down instead of up. I’m going to experience the satisfaction of honoring the Lord with my body and with my choices. I’m going to starve my flesh and feed my spirit with His Word when I am tempted. I’m going to say no to self-hatred and yes to adoration of the One who made me fearfully and wonderfully.

I’m also going to have bad days. I’ll have failures. I’ll have times when I question if I’ll ever get where I want and need to be. But what I don’t want to have is more regret. Even if all I have at the end of this year is 79 days of trying to lose weight (yes, there really are only 79 days left in the year–I counted), that’s more than I had at the beginning. I’ll at least have 79 days of trying to make better choices. 79 days of saying no to defeat and yes to discipline. 79 days of choosing joy over pity, and worship over worry.

The complicated thing about weight loss for me is that it’s not just a physical thing. The number on the scale is merely a reflection of an uglier reality: food is my drug, and I am addicted. I have been worshiping at the altar of food and giving it far too much of myself. I have looked to food to fill a place in my life that only God can truly satisfy. I am tired of being enslaved. My soul needs this change even more than my body. I wish that food addiction weren’t a part of my story, but it is, and it’s time to start the next chapter.

I honestly don’t know how much I will blog about this. I have no aspirations of becoming a weight loss blogger, but I also know that accountability–even the kind of accountability that comes from having a blog–is beneficial. I hope you will join me for this next chapter, in whatever form it takes. Hopefully the ending will be worth it.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

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