Day 4 - As It Turns Out, I'm Addicted to Sugar

Who knew I was actually physically addicted to sugar? I mean, every article and study I ever read about sugar indicated that unless you are eating a strict no added sugar no flour diet, you are likely addicted to sugar, but I didn't believe it. I didn't believe it until the withdrawal symptoms kicked in.

I expected sugar cravings when I removed sugar from my diet. But I did not expect headaches or muscle aches. When your body withdraws from sugar it can actually feel like you are coming down with the flu.

So what does that say about sugar and your body's natural systems? Yikes.

I am starting day 4 of this challenge and I already had to modify things a bit to make life tolerable. I am weaning myself off of sugar instead of going cold turkey and that is working well for me. In the world of addiction people call this harm reduction. I might still be consuming a tiny bit of sugar (half of a tablespoon of creamer in my coffee, to be exact - that's it), but I am in a much healthier place than I was 5 days ago. High five to me!

What I honestly like best about this food challenge so far is that it has brought an awareness to not only the negative effects of sugar on my body, but it also has brought an awareness to how many things have added sugar in them! I read every label now before I eat (if it has added sugar or flour in the first 3 ingredients I don't eat it), and I have been astonished, to say the least. For example, I have a container of Campbell's "ready to heat" tomato soup in my desk at work. I read its label and sugar is the second ingredient! Not something I would have expected to have added sugar (or to have it in the first 3 ingredients). It's becoming clear to me that the reason my body is physically addicted to sugar is not because I like chocolate and ice cream or creamer in my coffee (although those play a role), but more because sugar is hidden in basically everything I eat, even the stuff I always assumed was "healthy" or "healthier". Again, I kept reading these facts in articles and such before I started this challenge, but I didn't really believe it until I experienced it firsthand.

Yesterday was a hard day for me. I was hungry and irritable. But then I realized I was probably missing some key nutrients (protein and healthy fats are essential) so I made sure I had a delicious well-rounded dinner.

If I make it one week on this challenge I will be proud. I know next week will be extremely hard between Christmas, family parties, and the fact I will be on vacation. I will continue with "harm reduction" and making the healthiest choices I can. I am already down 3 pounds so that is motivation for me to continue if nothing else. Not that weight loss is the "be all end all" but it is nice to be rewarded with shedding a few pounds after working hard to eat well.

The biggest takeaways I hope to gain in this food challenge experience are that I need to be more mindful about processed foods and added sugars and I need to learn to treat food as fuel and not as a source of comfort. Reframing my thinking about food is key to being healthier overall. It's time to apply some of what I learned about alcohol to junk/processed food. But that being said, balance is key - food isn't like alcohol, it can't be an all or nothing approach, I need to find a healthy balance to be happy and healthy. My plan is to work on that in the coming year. Onwards and upwards, my friends.

Getting Off the Ferris Wheel

Since I stopped drinking over 4 months ago, a lot of great things have happened to my body: I am sleeping better, my anxiety has been greatly reduced, my depression is non-existent, I am getting off of my heartburn meds, and I feel genuinely well most of the time.

But - one negative thing has happened since I stopped drinking, and I am not happy about it - my sugar intake has greatly increased.

This is not an uncommon issue among those who quit drinking. If you google "sugar cravings after quitting drinking" you'll see what I mean - I am not in the minority with this problem. I have read different things about it, some doctors say it's because there is a lot of sugar in alcohol (particularly wine and beer) and alcoholic mixes and so your body starts craving that missing sugar when you stop drinking. Others say it's more of a psychological thing, that you are transferring one addiction for another.

I kinda think it's a combination of the two. Probably in my first 30 days alcohol-free my body was craving the missing sugar from what I was once drinking, but beyond that first month it became a transfer of "addiction" for me. Instead of having an after-dinner drink, I'd have a piece of cake or some ice cream. I had replaced booze with sugary treats. And then once that becomes your regular habit, hello weight-gain!

Now I am finding myself in a bad loop with sugar, a ferris wheel of cravings if you will. Because sugar works a lot like other drugs (yes, I just called sugar a drug) - you have a little, your body responds with a dopamine rush, you're happy/satisfied for a bit, then your sugar levels drop, you crave more, you have a little more, and the cycle continues. And the unfortunate thing is that sugar is in so much of what we consume every single day! So even if you aren't eating cake and ice cream on the regular, if you are consuming anything processed, you are consuming sugar. Or if it says it's sugar-free, that can sometimes be worse - because that means it's likely full of other chemicals, including artificial sweetener, which has been shown to be just as dangerous (if not more) than sugar because it causes the same chemical triggers in your body that sugar does.

It's time for me to get off the ferris wheel. Much like with where I was with drinking 4+ months ago, I am a point now with sugar where I realize I am doing something unhealthy, it's negatively impacting my health, and I need to take action. So where do I begin?

A friend in one of my online alcohol-free groups suggested the Bright Lines Eating 14-day challenge. This challenge not only provides you with a fairly strict eating plan, but it also offers you daily videos and blog posts to help explain the psychology behind eating healthy and sticking with a healthy diet. It is exactly what I need at this juncture of my life - I need help designing a menu of healthy, non-processed foods, but I also need a psychological reboot to help me change my mindset about consuming sugar (just as This Naked Mind by Annie Grace helped me change my mindset about consuming alcohol). Because like with anything in life, if your head isn't in it, it ain't gonna work.

I mentioned a "strict" diet earlier with this 14-day challenge. I say "strict" because it has some rules, but "strict" doesn't mean starving or disgusting. It just means there are specific things you need to do (or not do) to ensure you are eating healthy, and at first it will be hard (because I am accustomed to eating anything in front of me), but in the end I know this is what will help get me on the right path to eating well and treating my body with the respect it deserves. It's fine and all that I stopped drinking alcohol, but if I keep loading my body with junk food, I will continue to be living a very unhealthy life, booze or no booze.

The rules, or the "bright lines", of this 14-day challenge are as follows: 1) measure all food, 2) if it has sugar or artificial sweetener in the first three ingredients, don't eat it, 3) if it has flour in the first three ingredients, don't eat it, and 4) consume only three meals a day, no in between snacking.

My challenge officially starts tomorrow with access to the daily videos and blogs and other supportive material, but I am starting the meal plan today. No time like the present, right?

I am an hour and fifteen minutes into my new meal plan and so far the hardest thing was drinking my coffee black. I am a person who likes her coffee to taste like candy and I just, for the first time ever in my life, drank 10 ounces of black coffee. 😐This is how committed I am to this challenge! It was tough but I got through it. I think I can do this for 2 weeks. I think I can I think I can...

So what do I hope to achieve from this 14-day challenge? Mainly I'd like to get a handle on what I am eating. As I said before I am in a bad loop with sugar and I just need to make it stop. I am also working on the stuff going on in my head, too - why I replaced alcohol with sugar, what I can do to break that cycle of addiction, and how I can put my energy into something healthy (instead of turning to booze or cake to make me feel happy). I'd also like to get back to a healthy weight - because as it turns out, when you eat sweets all the time, your pants stop fitting and the numbers on the scale jump up. 😌

I'll continue to share how I am doing as this challenge progresses over the next 2 weeks. Stay tuned for more thoughts from the sugar-free me...I have a feeling shit is about to get real.

The First 100 Days

I recently completed a Gallup Strengths Finder workshop at work. For those who don’t know, Strengths Finder is a psychological assessment to help you determine the types of things you are best at. My Strengths Finder assessment revealed that one of the things I am really good at is problem-solving. When I first read my report, I laughed and thought, “Well that’s just not true, I hate problems and trying to fix them”. I always thought of myself as a person who avoids trouble, not a person who faces trouble head-on. But when I dug a little deeper into this particular strength in my report, and examined both my personal and professional life, I realized the results of my assessment were actually true – I thrive when it comes to problem-solving.

It’s funny how we sometimes see ourselves differently than how we really are. Or we see ourselves as how we once were when we were younger or less experienced.

I always considered myself to be a timid, self-conscious person who avoided hard tasks. I used to joke that “the path of least resistance [was] my favorite path”. And maybe at one point in my life I was that person. But I am not that person anymore. I recently got a promotion at work and it was not luck or pity that got me that promotion – it was hard work and determination that got me there. My manager knows I am good at problem-solving and that I don’t shy away from difficult tasks. I am a person who faces challenges head-on and preservers to get results. To put it more crudely, I get shit done. People at work can see this is who I am, yet it took a psychological assessment for me to finally see my own strengths.

Today I am celebrating 100 days being alcohol-free. At the beginning of this year I set some personal health goals for 2018 and one of them was to reduce my alcohol intake. I even blogged about it a few times. During the first half of the year I made a few half-hearted attempts at this goal, but never really put my full energy into it. I had the desire to make a change but not the drive. Then in early August I decided to really do this thing. I wanted to see what it would be like to live my life as a non-drinker. I wasn’t feeling my healthiest as a drinker, so in my mind, I had nothing to lose by trying life as a non-drinker.

No more excuses!

Initially I set a goal to remain alcohol-free for 30 days. Once I reached 30 days I set my next goal to keep staying alcohol free until I reached 60 days. At 60 days I said, “Might as well go for 100 since I am more than halfway there!” And here I am.

A funny thing happened after 30 days of living life as a non-drinker – my habits started to change organically. Instead of reaching for a bottle of wine or a beer after a hard day at the office, I spent more time with my family, or read a book, or relaxed with a cup of tea and a movie on Netflix. I started living life in the present, paying attention to conversations at parties, engaging with friends and family in a real way. I also found that things I once thought were very stressful or frustrating really weren’t. I started to see life as a gift, even on the bad days. Honestly, I never thought I could feel this good all the time. I used to think people who said they were happy were lying. Now I am one of those people.

Amazing changes started to happen to my health, too: I have not had to take any of my “as needed” anti-anxiety medication since I stopped drinking. I have not had any panic attacks in the last 3+ months and I genuinely feel happy and grateful all the time. I always knew alcohol was a depressant, but some part of me didn’t really believe it was really harming my mental health. I always told myself I needed a drink to relax or to feel better about stuff, but as it turns out, alcohol was just making things seem murky and more stressful than they really are. I also used to be so tired all the time, now I feel energized and alive. My acid reflux has also greatly improved – I take prescription medication for it and still need to (for now), but I no longer have break-through heartburn like I used to. I am currently working with my gastroenterologist in trying to reduce my meds and hopefully eventually get off of them altogether – if you asked me 2 years ago if I thought I’d ever even consider trying that, I would have laughed in your face.

So how does one continue to have a social life as a non-drinker? This was one of my biggest questions I kept asking when I considered ending my relationship with booze. As it turns out, it’s not that hard. You’re still you, just a sober you, which is actually the best version of you there is. Yes, there may be some alcohol-centric activities you may not be that interested in anymore, but being out with friends and enjoying life is still an option. Life does not end if you stop drinking. Life actually gets better. For real. In fact, I’d argue that I am having more fun now than I was when I was drinking. I consciously choose social activities I know I will enjoy instead of just going along with whatever everyone else is doing. Because you are sober and truly present, being alcohol-free sort of forces you to start figuring out who you really are and what stuff you really like. If you’re bored at a party, there isn’t a glass of whiskey to dull that boredom. If you are at a concert and hate the band, you are going to hear every note they play and remember it the next day, because there isn’t a bottle of wine or tall cups of over-priced beer to blur it all out. So you better be sure when you agree to go to that party or spend money on those concert tickets that you really want to be there. It really makes you think before you do anything.

So you can be sure that if I am out and doing something now, I truly want to be there, and I am soaking in every last bit of the experience.

At first this concept frightened me – you mean, I have to hear, see, think, and feel everything?! How am I going to get through life?! Being present can be a scary idea for some people. Especially people like me who overthink everything. Facing who we are can be hard. But in this journey, I have found that I really like who I am. And I have found that I can handle stressful situations really well. As it turns out, I am a problem-solver who thrives on facing the tough stuff head-on. I don’t need to have a stiff drink at the end of a hard day, all that would do is numb my mind and dull my senses. I have found that I like being sharp, it helps me stay focused and it also helps me really enjoy life. Because when you numb out the bad things with alcohol, you also numb out all the good things too. Have you ever gone to a concert and didn’t remember some or all of it the next day? Or a party? Or a holiday dinner? Yeah, me too. I want to remember everything now. No more numbing out bad or good feelings – it’s time to feel all the feelings. All of them.

I am going to continue on my alcohol-free journey, my next goal is to achieve 6 months. I currently feel the most physically and mentally healthy that I have ever felt in my life, so remaining alcohol-free is a kind of a no-brainer for me right now. I am proud of myself for giving this a chance and seeing it through. I guess my Strengths Finder assessment results were accurate after all. J

My Worst Run Ever

As an experienced runner I have had some good runs and bad ones. For example, I had one of my best runs ever just a couple of weeks ago – 5 miles on a trail in my hometown; the weather was perfect, my head was totally in the game, and I was energized. I finished that run feeling downright amazing. But this blog post isn’t about that run – this post is about my worst run ever: the Chicago Marathon.

Hey, my blogs can’t always be positive and uplifting, right? J

I got into the Chicago Marathon through their annual lottery system at the end of 2017. I threw my name in just to see what would happen, and as luck would have it, I was one of upwards of 20,000 who were selected to participate in the 2018 Chicago Marathon. I was over the moon when I got the good news; I had completed the NYC Marathon in 2017 and had loved every second of it. Now I had the chance to run in another world major marathon and bask in the glory of completing a third marathon in my lifetime (statistically, less than 1% of the world’s population have ever run even 1 marathon – so yeah, it’s kind of a big deal).

I realized during my training for the Chicago Marathon that I was starting to lose my love for long races. For one thing, I developed a hatred for the treadmill and could only run outside – which is great and all, but it reduced my mileage considerably during my training (we had a very hot and humid summer, so running outdoors wasn’t always an option). And while I had a lot of really excellent long runs during my training (the 5 mile run I referenced earlier being one), many of my runs were not great. I felt like Forrest Gump after he ran across the country twice and then decided he was tired and wanted to go home.

When I first started running 13 years ago, I never thought I’d be able to complete a full marathon. Never one to be naturally athletic, I didn’t think I’d ever have the stamina or the discipline to pull it off. And then 2 years ago I decided to go for it. As I approached the awesome age of 40, I got it in my head that running a full marathon was an important and meaningful goal. A couple of people chuckled when I said I was going to train for a full marathon – whether they were chuckling at the idea of me completing such a crazy long race or they were laughing at the absurdity of me merely wanting to do something like that, I’m not quite sure – but their scoffing only made me want it more. When I finally completed my first marathon in early 2017, I was elated. Then I had the opportunity to run the NYC Marathon later the same year, and I was excited to go for it. Running had become part of who I was, and even though I was never a fast runner, it started to come more naturally to me over time.

Fast forward to about a month ago: I was in the middle of one of my many long runs one early humid September morning (I believe it was my 14-miler) and right in the middle of the run, I realized I didn’t want to run anymore. Not just that day, but like, in general. I knew then that the love affair I had had with running for 13 or so years was over. It had been building for some time, but on that fateful day it all came to light. As Forrest Gump once said, “And just like that, my runnin’ days were over”.

There was just one tiny problem: I still had a major marathon to complete (Chicago). And there was no way I was backing out of that race. So even though my head and my heart were no longer fully in it, I pushed on with my training. I still continued to have good runs and bad ones. I kept working on psyching myself up for the Chicago Marathon, mainly with the notion in mind that this marathon would be my swan song.  One final race before I hang up my sneakers. Honestly, that thought kept me motivated to keep going during the tough runs.

It was exciting to go to Chicago. I had never been there before so it was cool to visit a new city. The race itself was flat, as promised. It rained for the first couple of hours but I still started out strong. It was warm outside so while the rain was not ideal, it didn’t make things too challenging for me. But despite all of that, this was my worst long run ever.

People often ask marathoners, "when did you hit the wall during your race?" There was no one moment when I hit the proverbial wall during the Chicago Marathon - that entire race was one giant wall for me.

I was happy and feeling good for the first 10 miles. Then things changed. As I approached mile 12, the “sweep” trucks started coming up behind me and the pack I was in. We weren’t even halfway through the race and the trucks that take down signs and mile-markers were already out and about. They eventually passed me and for several miles I could see them a half-mile ahead of me, essentially breaking down the marathon across the city.

Full disclosure for those who don't already know this: I am a slow ass runner. That is no secret. My best time in a full marathon is 6 hours and 48 minutes because I typically run most of the race and walk some of it. I knew that the Chicago Marathon was supposed to close down after 6 and a half hours from start time (not my start time, but from the actual race start time), but the trucks I saw breaking things down were doing that after only 4 and a half hours from start time. I get that the city needs to start cleaning things up, but what they don’t realize is how the slower runners feel when they see all of the signs and mile-markers coming down while they aren’t even halfway done with a 26.2 mile race. It kills your morale at a very critical time when you need as much morale as you can muster. 

I'm not trying to be a "snowflake" about this; I don't expect to be coddled throughout any race but when you (Chicago) allow slower runners to enter your race, clearly they are not going to finish the race with the elite runners, so try to show them a little respect while they make their way through your course. Just sayin'.

I broke down just after mile 12. I cried so hard I could barely see through my tears. Because I wasn’t even halfway done with this incredibly long race and I didn’t think I could go on. Signs were coming down, the clocks on the mile-markers were being shut off, the carpets on the bridges were being rolled up, street sweepers were riding down the streets blowing trash around, and I was quickly losing all will to keep running.

And then I got to 13.1 miles, I stopped weeping, and instead I got angry. No, I was enraged. I was mad at Chicago for messing with my head and I was mad at myself for wanting to quit when I had come that far in the race. I didn’t go that far to only go that far, damn it. Being the stubborn asshole that I am, I used that resolve to push forward. So I gave the city of Chicago a big fat middle finger and decided that even if I had to crawl across that finish line, I was going to get that damn medal.

I walked a lot more of that race than I wanted to. I have a lot of sciatic pain since running my first two marathons and it really affected me that day. And because my feet were wet from the morning rain, blisters were an issue as well. But even though my time was not my best, I still persisted. And after mile 20, I never saw another mile-marker, because the city had taken everything down by then. Despite all that, there were still a lot of spectators on the streets (including my awesome husband and amazing kids) and I am so grateful for that. Many strangers gave me high-fives, pats on the back, and told me they were proud of me - and that (in addition my rage J) is what kept me going to the end.

After I hit mile 26 and rounded the corner to jog the last .2 miles to the finish line, a man standing nearby wearing an official marathon jacket yelled out that in 2 minutes the gates were closing and we would not be able to get our medals after that. At first I thought he was kidding, but then I looked at his face and I knew he was dead serious. OH HELL NO! There was no way I was going home without a medal that day, so I sprinted, and I sprinted hard. I didn’t feel any pain anymore, all I felt was white hot rage. And determination. I saw the marathon workers pulling the gates, getting ready to close up the finish line, and I ran even faster.

When I crossed the finish line and they put a medal around my neck, I bawled my eyes out. I am pretty sure I cried harder than Desi Linden did after winning the Boston Marathon this year in the worst weather conditions ever. I was crying out of relief, pride, and yeah, pain. I was crying because I really earned that medal. Even though it took me 7+ hours to finish that damn race, I worked my ass off for that medal and I earned every last inch of it. That marathon was not just physically challenging, it was also emotionally and mentally difficult, too.

So that was my worst run ever. But it had a very good ending, and really that’s all that matters. Below is an image of the breakdown of my race times at each split. I wasn’t going to show anyone this, but then I thought, “what the hell”, I have nothing to be embarrassed about. Even if it took me 7 days to finish that race, I still finished. I am proud of myself for seeing this through, even though I wanted to quit and had trouble staying motivated at many points. And I am especially happy that my kids got to see me run my last marathon. What a wonderful way to retire from running.

Hey, would you look at that, this post ended up being somewhat positive and uplifting after all. J

Learning to be Present In Running, and In Life

When I first started training for half marathons and marathons a couple of years ago, I would often hear seasoned runners refer to the treadmill as the "dreadmill". It's common knowledge among runners that having to spend any time on that hamster wheel-like contraption is just downright awful. I never got that...until now.

I actually used to love running on the treadmill. I liked that I could set my desired speed and length of time and that was that. My body was then obligated adhere to the running parameters I set forth and doing so gave me discipline - and a sense of satisfaction when I finished my run. I also liked to watch TV while I ran, and being on a treadmill allowed me to do that. Running on the treadmill made it easy for me to tune out the fact that I was...running.

Huh. Now why would I choose to do something (train for a marathon, run a 5K, etc.) and not want to acknowledge I was doing it?

When I first started running, my goal was to train hard and finish races. Running can be difficult, even the most awesome runners in the world would probably agree with me on that, and that's okay - nothing worth having ever came easily, running should be hard. But when I first dove into the world of running, I wanted to block out the pain and just get to the end...the end of the road, the end of my training, or the end of my race. I set out with the finish line in mind and that was it. So naturally the treadmill was the perfect place for me because while on it I could watch TV or blare music through my headphones, set a certain speed and incline, and just power through the run. I could tune out the pain of it all.

The NYC marathon changed all of that for me. That was the first race I ever did where I didn't want to ignore my surroundings and power through to the end. I wanted to experience the course, to see the people, to observe the city, and yes, to feel all the pain of the 26.2 mile race. Once I made up my mind that I would run for most of that marathon without music or an annoying GPS tracker yapping in my ear, my entire outlook on running changed. Running went from being something I was just trying to get through, to being a full sensory experience. And let me tell you - this made all the difference with long distance races.

Last weekend I completed a 12-mile run as part of my training for my next marathon (taking place one month from today, in fact). I went to the local rail trail and spent about 3 hours running up and down the trail, and I did so without any headphones on. I literally spent 3 hours running and looking at the trees, listening to nature, and saying hello to other people I saw on the trail along the way. When I first decided to do this I worried I might be bored. After all, running is difficult and silence is boring - how would I ever be able to do both at the same time?!

Turns out that even though running is difficult, it can be done without noisy distractions. I no longer need or even want a TV show on Netflix or a playlist on Spotify to get me through my long runs anymore because I don't want to zone out. Zoning out means I would miss so much. It's like driving to work and then realizing upon arrival that you have no recollection of how you got there. I want to be present for the experience. Not everyone gets to run a full marathon and who knows, this might be my last time doing it. I should take advantage of the experience and allow myself to really feel it, even when it hurts. And also, silence isn't boring. Listening to your breath as you move, hearing the sounds of the wind, the water, the trees, and the animals around you is actually pretty amazing. I didn't realize how much activity goes on around you when you run on a trail. I used to tune it all out before and I missed all of the amazing things around me.

So now I really despise running on the treadmill. Staring ahead at a TV or at the person on the treadmill in front of me is so boring. When I am forced to run at the gym it makes me long for the roads, the fresh air, the sunshine, the birds and the squirrels, and the variety in elevation and speed. The treadmill is like a jail - running outside is total freedom.

Running really is a great metaphor for life. The way I see it, I have a choice: I can rush through with just the end in mind, blast music, and tune out the experience to avoid feeling pain - or I can look, listen, and feel, and be completely present every step of the way, even on the worst days. At this juncture in my life I choose the latter. I spent 40 years trying to rush past things just to get to whatever the next thing was, all the while totally missing what was right in front of me. Those 40 years went so fast, and who knows how much I missed during that time while I was busy tuning out the difficult or painful stuff or worrying about what was ahead. So for the next 40 years I am learning to be present, to truly feel things in life, and to stop zoning out whenever I can. Oh and I will avoid the "dreadmill" as much as I can. Because seriously, it's so boring!

How We Can Remove The Stigma of Mental Illness (Hint: It Starts With You)

“Mental illness is nothing to be ashamed of, but stigma and bias shame us all.” – Bill Clinton

I am a woman in her forties and most people in my life do not know that I suffer from mental illness. For as long as I can remember, I have battled depression and anxiety, sometimes simultaneously, and for most of my life I kept it locked inside. Until now.

I have always been afraid of being perceived as less than (less than competent, less than perfect, less than capable, less than human). These fears are justified, as we all know the stigma of mental illness in our society. When you think of the term “mental illness”, you may envision an image of a person in a strait jacket, perhaps talking to himself, perhaps staring off into the distance not quite seeing anything. Or you may picture a knife wielding person, yelling into oblivion, attacking strangers on a bus. Or maybe you think of a Hannibal Lecter-type person who lures unsuspecting victims into his lair so he can “have them for dinner”. Sure, these are examples of mental illness, but they don’t define what mental illness truly is.

What you might not picture is a celebrity like Kate Spade, Chris Cornell, or Anthony Bourdain. You may not think that famous people who “have it all” would be battling mental illness every day, and that they might someday lose that battle and their lives. Because the fact of the matter is, it doesn’t matter how much money a person has, how successful they are in their career, how beautiful they are, or that they have a spouse and children who depend on them; mental illness does not discriminate, and it can kill you.

About three years ago I finally decided to see a therapist. At this point in time I had spent most of my life struggling with depression and anxiety, mostly keeping it to myself to “save face”. If things felt too overwhelming, I would hide away in my house, cancelling plans with friends, refusing to answer phone calls, paralyzed by my feelings. I got pretty good at hiding my true self for so long that I felt convinced I had it under control. And then the anxiety escalated, and I was starting to have difficulty driving a car because every time I eased my vehicle onto a highway, I had a panic attack. At first I did what I always do and I pretended like everything was fine, all the while I started avoiding driving long distances or taking roads with faster speed limits, making excuses to friends and family whenever I was supposed to drive somewhere to visit them. When I finally got to the point where I actually considered cancelling a summer vacation I had planned with my children because of these panic attacks, I recognized I had a problem.

I had avoided seeking help from a therapist my whole life because I told myself that I wasn’t the type of person who needed therapy. Therapy was for people who were really traumatized, who needed medication, or who were mentally ill – that was not me. I was just a girl who worried a lot or got sad sometimes, surely I could handle this myself. This was the biggest lie I ever told myself. First of all, therapy is good for anyone who needs someone to talk to, even if they are not mentally ill. There is no “type of person” who seeks therapy, if you feel you need it, then you need it. Secondly, for a long time I refused to acknowledge that my issues were far more serious than just worrying a lot or feeling sad; I was mentally ill, and it was literally preventing me from living my best life. But I downplayed it because I was afraid of what it might mean if I admitted my true self.

The stigma attached to mental illness is what prevents thousands of people from getting the help they need so they can survive their illness. So many people suffer in silence out of fear of being perceived as less than.

Once I started seeing a therapist I was finally able to admit out loud that I have depression and anxiety. Making an appointment with a therapist was my first step in not only acknowledging my true self, but also stripping away the stigma I personally had attached to mental illness for so many years. And later, when my doctor prescribed me anti-anxiety medication to help supplement my talk therapy sessions, I was hesitant at first to take it. But then I realized that I needed to break down the stigma I had also attached to taking medication for mental illness. I was not less than, I was still me, and I needed medication to help me fight my battle.

Most people wouldn’t think twice about taking a Tylenol to help alleviate the pain of a headache, nor would they refuse to go for chemotherapy treatments to fight cancer cells in their body. Yet when people are battling mental illness, they often talk themselves out of getting help. We as a society need to remove the stigma of mental illness, too many people die when they lose their battle. If we supported mentally ill patients the same way we support cancer patients, perhaps we could save more lives.

Removing the stigma of mental illness won’t happen overnight. The best way to start is with ourselves, each and every day. I am continuing to take steps to remove the bias in my own life: if I am having a difficult day and am feeling that familiar overwhelming sadness that often consumes me, instead of smiling through it, I tell my family. If my anxiety is interfering with my ability to attend an event, I let my friends know. I do my best to share what I am feeling and if I have trouble articulating those feelings, I share that too. I won't lie, it’s scary to show my true self, but it’s also a relief. In some ways it feels as though my mental illness has less power over me when I talk about it.

As terrifying as this is, writing and sharing my story is another big personal step I have taken in normalizing mental illness, this is me telling the world that I struggle every day with depression and anxiety, and I am not ashamed to admit it anymore.

Mental illness does not have a certain look and it does not affect a certain type of person. I am a mom, a friend, a daughter, a sister, and by most accounts a "normal" person who has a great life with a magnificent family. I have everything I need and I want for nothing. But yet I still fight this battle.

If you also suffer from mental illness, tell a friend or a family member, share your struggle with them. Try to allow your true self to shine, even on your darkest days. Stop worrying about being viewed as less than or incompetent and let yourself be vulnerable. And if you don’t have mental illness, make an effort to be open-minded to your friends and family who do: tell them you care and that you are not ashamed of them, demonstrate to them that their disease does not change how much you love them, and create a safe space for them to admit their truth. You know those quotes that are floating around on social media that say, “Check on your strong friend”? They are so right on; some of the strongest people out there are fighting a battle inside their minds every single day. And those strong people might be hesitant to come to you when they feel like they are losing that battle. I’m not saying you are responsible for saving every person with mental illness, but just remember they are out there, they are likely your closest friends, and they need your support.

This is how we can remove the stigma of mental illness, one person at a time.

Changing My Default Setting

What's the most challenging thing you have ever done?

I have done a lot of things I consider challenging - marathons, half marathons, pregnancy, childbirth, new jobs, break-ups, marriage, buying a house, etc. The list goes on and on. But I think the most challenging thing I have done to date is when I decided to question my alcohol intake..and do something about it.

Why is this sooooo challenging? I mean, is it really more challenging than running a marathon?

Well, yeah, it is. Because while training for and running a marathon is physically challenging, questioning everything I believe and know to be true about a substance I have been abusing since I was in college causes a great deal of mental strife. Asking myself why I drink and if I should continue to do so has kicked up a lot of emotional dust that I wasn't expecting. And we all know dealing with the emotional stuff can be the greatest challenge of all.

Since I was 19 years old I have used alcohol as a crutch to get through awkward social encounters, boring lulls in life, and stressful situations. I have leaned on booze to numb any pain I didn't want to feel and to avoid any problems I didn't want to deal with. Having fun and want to celebrate? Crack open a beer! Feeling stressed or sad about something? Crack open a beer! How did this become my default setting?

I was a quiet, introverted kid growing up and when I went to college I made a decision to overcome my "shyness", and sadly alcohol played a big role in my "personality change". Freshman year of college was my chance to become the opposite of who everyone in high school thought I was (if they even thought of me at all). I didn't drink at all in high school and I was actually okay with that. Never one to feel the need to fit in or succumb to "peer pressure", I wasn't interested in imbibing at parties or while hanging out with friends. I'd sometimes be the only person at a party not drinking, yet I still had fun. But it was fun in my own quiet, reserved way.

Why I felt the need to become the opposite of myself in college I don't really know - I think I just got tired of always coloring inside the lines. We all do sometimes.

It started as a method for me to loosen up and have fun, but as the years went on, alcohol became more important than it should have. In the last couple of years I started questioning if I had a "problem", since it seemed that even though I consciously wanted to cut booze out of my life for various health reasons, I still somehow felt deep down like I needed it.

And then I came across a book that changed my life: This Naked Mind by Annie Grace. When I read the summary of the book I admit I was skeptical: it promised to help recondition my thinking and provide me with the tools to gain control over my consumption of alcohol. How could a book do that? But I gave it a chance - I downloaded the audio version of the book and it only took me 2 days to get through all 7 hours and 28 minutes of it. I couldn't stop listening.

It's taken some time for me to come around to understanding this, but I now realize that my desire to drink alcohol is a result of years of conscious and unconscious conditioning. I have spent most of my life believing alcohol was the solution to my problems - it made me funnier, easier to talk to, more lively at parties, more relaxed in life, etc. I learned this from experiences I had in my life, from watching people around me, and of course, from the genius marketing and advertising campaigns of the alcohol industry.

The truth is that alcohol never did me any favors, all it did was deteriorate my health. Alcohol is made from ethanol, which is essentially poison. It does bad things to your body, most especially your first line of defense: your liver. Alcohol consumption, even a little bit, increases a person's risk for cancer - and ladies, drinking booze raises your risk for breast cancer: "Compared to women who don't drink at all, women who have three alcoholic drinks per week have a 15% higher risk of breast cancer. Experts estimate that the risk of breast cancer goes up another 10% for each additional drink women regularly have each day." (source: https://www.breastcancer.org/risk/factors/alcohol)

 Alcohol is not the solution, it's the problem.

If I am not having fun at a party, maybe that means it's time for me to leave, not numb myself to the situation by drinking. If I am bored, I need to fill my time doing something fun - like writing, painting, running, or hanging out with my kids - not pour myself a cocktail. If I am anxious or depressed, self-medicating with booze is definitely not the answer...I need to work on dealing with the source of my anxiety and becoming more mentally healthy, as alcohol only heightens anxiety and exacerbates depression over time. Instead of numbing myself to deal with situations, how about I actually...deal with them? Because as it turns out, when you numb out the bad stuff, you also numb out all the good stuff too. I want to feel all the feelings, good and bad, from now on. Isn't that what it means to be human?

And let me just circle back to something I mentioned earlier when I said I was wondering if I had a "problem" when I decided I wanted to cut back on my drinking. We live in a very "us-them" culture when it comes to alcohol dependence. We tend to think there are some people who are born "alcoholics" and then there's the rest of us who can control our drinking, as if there is some DNA embedded in some people that make them drunks while everyone else is immune to the addiction. This is very dangerous thinking. The truth of the matter is that alcohol is a highly addictive substance and any person can become dependent on it, physically and/or mentally, at any time. I am not saying every person who drinks will become an alcoholic, I am saying that every person who drinks CAN become an alcoholic. But we pretend this isn't true because it makes us feel better to believe that it can't happen to us.

Ah, but it can.

I have never tried heroin, but this doesn't mean that if I did try it I wouldn't become addicted to it. It's a highly addictive substance. But I'm not going to walk around pretending like I am somehow better than a heroin addict, because in reality the only difference between the two of us is that he tried it and I didn't.

Chances are you know someone who is or was addicted to nicotine. I tried smoking cigarettes in college - another attempt to be the opposite of me - but I never became physically or mentally dependent on it. It just wasn't for me, so it was an easy thing to give up when I realized what a foolish thing it was to do. But if I had continued smoking, exposing myself to nicotine regularly, I am sure over time I would have become addicted to it. Because, like alcohol, it's an addictive substance.

So you see, there is no "us-them" - it's all us, we're all in this together. We need to stop telling ourselves that alcohol dependence can never happen to us, because if we're drinking, it can, and for some of us, it has probably already happened. And it doesn't make us bad people, it just means we have been exposed repeatedly to a highly addictive substance. We're only human after all.

This is not a plea for you to give up drinking, this is just me sharing the truths that I have learned. I think it's important that we remove the stigma of addiction, and to do that, we need to acknowledge that addiction can happen to anyone. Even you. Or me.

So, the million dollar question is: have I given up drinking completely? The short answer is: I'm on the road to doing that. It's a slow process, because I have 20 years of conditioning that I am working on undoing. In the last 21 days, I have consumed alcohol only 4 times - each time I did so mindfully, consciously choosing a drink (instead of letting it unconsciously choose me). And I will confess this: the few times I did have an alcoholic drink over the last 3 weeks, I didn't enjoy it like I used to. Now that I am consciously aware that booze doesn't actually enhance any of my experiences, it doesn't take away my anxiety, and it doesn't make me funnier or sexier - it just doesn't feel as good to indulge in a drink anymore. Especially knowing what the health risks are every time you consume alcohol, it makes it hard to justify ordering a cocktail. Not impossible, but hard.

The most important thing in this journey is that I am getting back to me. I spent a long time trying to get away from who I really am - an introverted, somewhat anxious person, who loves to laugh, and prefers small groups over large crowds. Now I am learning to embrace who I am and allow myself to feel everything, even the not so good feelings - like boredom, anger, sadness, and anxiety. This is all part of the human experience and just as I was tired of "always coloring inside the lines" as a 19 year old, now as a 40 year old I am tired of pretending to be something I'm not. If people don't like me as I am, that's on them. I have been afraid for a long time to be me, but I actually think people will like the real me. I just need to let them.

Who knows if I will ever get to a point where I decide to abstain from alcohol completely, but I do know that I am no longer going to hide behind a bottle anymore. If I do drink, it will be my conscious choice and not my default setting. As I said before, alcohol isn't doing me any favors, so I am learning to let it go. And I am ready to feel all the feelings. All of them.

A Brutally Honest Look at the Past Month

“By seeking and blundering we learn.” ― Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

I have a confession to make: I am human and I make mistakes.

WHAT?!

That’s right friends, you heard it here first: Despite all evidence to the contrary, I am not perfect. I know you are shocked and maybe even a little disappointed. But it’s true – I am flawed.

Of course I am being facetious since obviously no one is concerned with how flawed or flawless I am, but the truth is that no one is harder on me than me. I am a total perfectionist and when I make a mistake (and it happens often), I get pretty angry with myself. It often creates an indescribable storm inside my head that pushes me into a tug of war between depression and anxiety. I have lived my whole life trying to come to terms with the fact that I am not perfect and it is an ongoing battle. But I am getting better at accepting my imperfections.

That being said, I’d like to share a story with you.

In mid-April I was in a car accident. I was completely unharmed, as was the other driver who was involved with the accident. Unfortunately my car was totaled and I was pretty devastated about that (I get very attached to my vehicles and that car was definitely my favorite). But life goes on, right? More than anything I was/am sincerely grateful that no one was injured and the other driver’s car wasn’t even scratched (she clearly had a more robust vehicle than I did).

About a week after that accident I went on vacation with my family, and while on vacation I decided to have a couple of beers (as you may recall from my previous blog post, until that point in time, I was actually choosing to abstain from alcohol for various health reasons). At the time I rationalized that I was on vacation and deserved a couple of drinks. Then I had a couple more drinks after I got home from my vacation, because I was still trying to maintain that good, relaxed feeling. And then last weekend I went on a pub crawl with some friends, which led to even more drinks, because it was Cinco de Mayo and, well, I felt like celebrating. These were all choices I made; I was in full control of my decisions, just as I was in full control when I chose NOT to drink. I’m an adult and I can do whatever I want – right? Well, yeah, but…

As soon as I resumed consuming alcohol after having a period of abstinence, I noticed some things about my health: my headaches returned, my acid reflux came back, my skin broke out, and my anxiety became considerably less manageable. Surprise, surprise – I proved myself right – alcohol consumption, whether in small or large quantities, does not play nice with my system. In fact, it completely throws off my equilibrium both mentally and physically. And it thrusts me into a loop that I strongly dislike: I consume alcohol to relax, and I end up feeling more anxious, so then I consume alcohol to relax, and I end up feeling more anxious…it goes on and on. To me, it’s just not worth it to feel this lousy. Plus, when I feel this unhealthy, I stop exercising and eating well too. And we can’t have that happening on top of everything else!

Quite honestly, looking back on this past month, I think the real reason I decided to step away from my "non-drinker status" was to cope with the stress and frustration of my car accident. Sure, I was “on vacation” when I gave in and had a couple of beers, but I can be on vacation and not have alcohol. I can do anything sober and still enjoy myself (I went to a beer festival last month and was the designated driver for my friends - and it didn't suck at all. So if I can hang out for 4 hours at a beer festival, drink water the whole time, and have fun - then I can do anything without booze!). So when I decided I wanted to have a couple of drinks on vacation and the weeks following that vacation, I was going through something. I realize that now.

Remember what I said earlier about being flawed? And about how I often get pissed at myself for being flawed? That car accident I was in was an error I can’t take back and it is one that cost me a car that I loved. And it cost me some money too. Even though the accident wasn’t technically my fault (it was a wrong place, wrong time situation), I was still left with that angry storm in my head, and I was quite busy beating myself up over it. And in an effort to relax some of that storm in my head, I ignored what I knew was good for me. Flawed humans sometimes do that, I hear. J

Now that I realize the real reason I gave up on my non-drinker status this past month, I know I need to get better at giving myself a break once in a while. Perhaps I should try treating myself the same way I treat others – with a great deal of open-mindedness, compassion, and forgiveness.  And I need to get back to focusing on healthy ways to cope with stress. Running is my favorite way to cope with everything, and so that is exactly what I have been doing this week (and will continue to do going forward). I ran 2 miles this morning before work and you have no idea how great I feel. 

Even though this past month was a little rough for me, I am glad I went through this. We can’t necessarily undo our mistakes and as humans we are all bound to make them once in a while, so the best we can do is learn from our experiences and try to do better next time. I have learned a lot about my health over the last couple of months, particularly where alcohol is concerned. I know I don't need alcohol to cope with difficult emotions anymore...and after a little trial and error, I now know that I am the best me when I embrace life as a non-drinker. I feel like Dorothy when she was told she always had the power to get home from Oz. J

And now that I have this knowledge, what will I do with it? The answer is simple: move on, make healthier choices in the future, and forgive myself for the mistakes I may make. It's all I can do.

"Off The Sauce": Living Life As A Non-Drinker

I recently made an important and somewhat life-altering health decision...after a lot of deliberation and soul-searching, I have decided to embrace the world as a non-drinker.

I confess that the decision didn't come easily to me. In fact, I have been considering it for about a year. Yes, that's right, I said a year. Why so long? Well, I am the type of person who likes to think and plan and ruminate when it comes to making changes in my life, and believe me when I say that choosing to be a non-drinker was something I really wanted to research and explore before I decided to put it into practice. I wanted to truly think about how it might change my life. Or not change it.

It started with a pondering ("what might life be like as a person who doesn't drink alcohol?"), then reverted to a rejection of the idea ("but I would miss beer and wine too much, I couldn't possibly!"), then eventually morphed into something in between those two thoughts ("well, maybe I can do this, but should I? And if I do this, what will become of my social life?").

I do love beer. And I do love wine. And if I'm being honest, whiskey is my drink of choice. But the biggest reason this change seems so monumental to me is because of the phrase "I am giving it up". I'm the type of person who, when told she can't have something, decides that one thing she isn't "allowed" to have is the one thing she must have. I'm like a toddler in that regard. For example, I am not much of a dessert-eater. But if one day I declared I was no longer going to eat desserts, you better believe my chocolate cravings would spike.

So instead of saying "I'm giving it up", I am saying that I am "choosing to be a non-drinker". See what I did there? The first phrase is more Lenten. It sounds like I am being punished and having to withhold from consuming alcohol. The second phrase puts me in the driver seat - I am choosing this lifestyle. I don't have to, I want to. In my mind, there is a big difference.

You might be wondering why I am doing this. The easy answer is my health. I just turned 40 years old last month...I recognize I am now entering the second half of my life and I want to make it good. I don't just want to live a long life, I want the quality of my life to be excellent. I don't want to be saddled with chronic illnesses and a body and mind that begin deteriorating long before they should. I understand I can't fully control my health (a hard lesson I have spent 40 years learning), but there are some things I can control that can put me at less risk for disease and other health issues. I can control how I treat my body, what I put into it, and my  attitude towards my life.

The not-as-easy answer is that in the last year or so, I began worrying a little about how I was handling my anxiety, and I was concerned that I was relying too much on alcohol to self-medicate as a method of coping with it. Using alcohol to soothe anxiety is counterproductive because consuming alcohol can actually cause more anxiety (and depression). So really it's the type of situation that can become a vicious cycle and can spiral into addiction. I'm not saying that was the inevitable outcome for me - or anyone else who might be in my situation - but it was not outside the realm of possibility. 

I consider myself a fairly introspective person who is not afraid to confront my own weaknesses - and who is not afraid to search for solutions to help overcome those weaknesses - and so I decided to take a break from consuming alcohol for a while and in turn, research ways to be more mentally fit (as well as physically strong), and educate myself on how to do so - without the use of alcohol.

I have done a few challenging things in my life that I am quite proud of: I'm a mom (hardest job I have ever done 😉), I got my master's degree while working full time, and I have trained for and completed 2 full marathons (and am in the process of training for my 3rd). But the decision to become a non-drinker is up there for being one of the most challenging projects in my life so far. Why? Well, one reason is because we live in a culture that embraces social activities that are very alcohol-centric: wine tastings, beer festivals, all inclusive packages on cruise ships, the list goes on and on. How does a non-drinker socialize in these situations? Is it boring to be at a wine tasting without a glass in your hand? I have no idea! I have never explored this before now (aside from when I was pregnant and nursing - but then I was doing it for the baby and not really for my own health, this time I am doing it for me), and I am learning a lot about myself.

I am a bit of an introvert (this a huge understatement: I am the poster child for all introverts), so socializing without a glass of wine or a beer bottle in my hand is new territory for me. In the past, holding that drink would give me confidence and would also serve as a protective armor sometimes. As a non-drinker, I can still be at a party with a cup in my hand, but now it will contain seltzer water or diet soda instead of booze. Off goes my chain mail and my helmet, and here I am, just me - being me. It's scary but I am enjoying the challenge of learning how to be the real me with people. A skill I never really gave myself a chance to hone.

Like training for a marathon or taking a graduate course, embracing this new lifestyle forces me to be a little uncomfortable, to feel like a novice, and to be a little scared. When I was younger I shied away from challenges like these. I used to run from the things that made me uncomfortable - the path of least resistance was my favorite path. But now as I am getting older, I am learning to step outside of my comfort zone, because I recognize that is where I can grow. 

So why am I writing about this? Well, why do I write about anything concerning health and wellness? 😊 I enjoy sharing my thoughts about being mentally and physically healthy. And also, by sharing this with people, I feel like I am holding myself accountable. I don't have to share what is or is not in my cup, that's my business...but I wanted to share it.

So, you may be wondering how long I plan to be a non-drinker. Is this a permanent thing? Am I "off the sauce" for good? Truth is, I don't know. I am not assigning a timeline to it. And I am not saying that as a way to bail on this lifestyle when it gets tough or if I get bored of it. I am saying that because my decision to not drink alcohol currently has to do with my physical and mental well-being. I feel like I need this hiatus from consuming alcohol and I don't know how long that hiatus will be. Could be days, weeks, months, or years. All I can do is focus on what I need right now, today. And today this is what I need. We'll see what tomorrow brings.

Give Yourself a "Why"

I have been a long-standing, nearly-successful member of Weight Watchers for over a year. Truth be told, I have been on and off the program a few times over the last 8+ years (since my youngest son was born), always getting close to reaching my goal, and then quitting just as I get close, each and every time. Except this current membership is my longest yet - I have almost quit a couple of times in the past year - but being off of the program would mean I'd have no guidance whatsoever in living a healthy lifestyle, so in the past year even when I have fallen off track with the program, I have remained a member of Weight Watchers. I always say my worst day on the program is still better than any day off of it - because even when I am off track, I am still on track...as confusing as that sounds, it's true. If I weren't on Weight Watchers now, I am certain I'd be a lot more than 15 pounds away from a healthy weight.

Yet, here I am - still not at my goal weight. So what's the problem?

This week at our Weight Watchers meeting, the topic was about identifying your "why". This is defined as your ultimate reason and driving force behind your weight loss journey. Sure you want to lose 50 pounds, but WHY? When Weight Watchers first introduced this concept I shrugged it off. I want to get to my goal weight, do I really need a reason why?

But while sitting in the meeting this week, I listened to the other members talking about their "why"s and it got me thinking about my own journey.

In the last couple of months I have started working on reframing my thinking and asking myself the reason behind the healthy (and unhealthy) things that I do. I am using this tactic to help myself stay motivated with my goals to train for long distance races and to achieve new personal records when I run. I am also making an effort to cut out unhealthy habits and to remove toxicity from my life...understanding the reason I drink too much when I am anxious or stressed or the reason I used to let people manipulate me can help me be more aware and to take more mindful approaches in the future. See, I have already started giving myself a "why" in many areas of my life. And it has definitely helped.

So, I have not reached my weight loss goal in nearly 9 years. Reaching that goal would put me in the top range of a healthy Body Mass Index, which is why it's so important to me. I have literally come within 5 pounds of my goal several times, and each time, I stop eating healthy and revert back to unhealthy habits, which always results in a weight gain of 10 to 15 pounds. Why is this happening? I used to think my body was incapable of reaching a healthy BMI. I do have hypothyroidism, which can make it hard to lose weight sometimes. But I am on medication for thyroid disease and my levels are all good, so the whole "my body can't lose weight" excuse doesn't really fly.

Again, I ask myself, "so what's the problem?"

I had an epiphany during my Weight Watchers meeting this week - not having a defined "why" might be the underlying reason for not reaching my goal weight all these years. Because when you define a "why", that "why" can give you the strength and motivation to keep going when you have moments of wanting to give up.

Giving yourself a "why" is good for all things, not just weight loss goals. Why do I go to work every day? Why am I giving up meat and becoming a vegan? Why do I choose to abstain from drugs and alcohol? Why should I quit smoking? Why stay married? Why get divorced?

It's important to understand our reasons and motivations behind our actions. Or the reasons and motivations behind our goals. This way, when life gets in the way or if challenges appear (and that will happen, it's a fact), you can revert to your "why" to help you stay the course - or to help you make a necessary change.

I know now I need to give myself a "why" for my weight loss goal. Without it, I am just out there, floating aimlessly, hoping to attain something without any real reason to keep going. Telling myself I just need to do it without putting an emotional reason behind it essentially sets me up for a fall. And I am tired of coming close to my goal and not achieving it.

I will reach my goal weight in 2018. I am turning 40 this year and more than ever, I am realizing how vital my health is. If I continue to neglect my health, as I get older I will be contending with more than just a 15 pound weight loss goal. Being overweight in the second half of my life could cause heart disease, high cholesterol, diabetes, and a slew of other health problems. It's important for me to take care of myself now so I can live a long life - but not just a long life - a long life full of quality. If I am lucky enough to live into my 80s or 90s, I want to be mentally fit and physically strong. I know that losing 15 measly pounds won't guarantee any of this, but it's a step in the right direction for sure.

So that's my "why". 

I'd like to thank Weight Watchers for their program that supports and encourages mindfulness and a well-rounded healthy lifestyle. Even though I haven't yet reached my goal weight while on their program, I know that is on me and not them. Their program uses science and psychology to help people of all walks of life learn to lead a healthy lifestyle that is 100% sustainable.

And just to be clear, I am not a spokesperson for Weight Watchers and they haven't paid me in any way to talk about them in this piece. In fact, I am the one paying them - every month. 😁 But that's all going to change soon once I reach goal and then "lifetime status". Because now I have something I never had before - I have my "why".