I am not a runner. I hate running. It is tedious, boring, sweaty, and just all around no fun. I have never been a runner. I was a cheerleader in high school, back in the days when it was just pom poms. We just had to be skinny and cute.
I was those things: skinny and cute. I had the ability to eat whatever (Snickers or pizza and a Dr. Pepper every day for lunch!) and stay that way. I did not diet in high school. At least not that I remember.
In college, I wasn't terribly active. I cheered one basketball season, but wasn't able to overcome my fear of my life literally being held in someone's hands. I played soccer for my sorority's intramural team. For one season. But I stayed more or less the same size. I was doing okay.
Then, senior year happened. I moved in with some "sisters" upstairs from some frat boys. And I drank. A lot. Nearly every weekend that fall. There were some issues out there, involving a young man (or two), that I didn't know how to maturely handle. So I partied instead. During the day, I was unhappy. And when I wasn't in class, I drove my little Tercel with the sunroof open. I drove up toward the mountains with the music blaring. Trying to get myself out of my head.
Needless to say, it didn't work.
I went on foreign study and met a great guy. He didn't drink. Instead, he treated his body as a temple, the way God intended it. He ate right and worked out. I started jogging and using the Nordic ski thingy at the PAC. Then we broke up, and it was back to business as usual. I still tried to run some, but my heart wasn't in it.
After graduation, I started dating the guy (man) whom I would eventually marry. He was in ROTC and was very fit. Still is. He loves to run. Runs every other day. Would probably do it every day if I'd let him. Anyhoo, I still had issues with weight. I put it on, and couldn't seem to keep it off. I used the gym membership that came with my first apartment.
Then we got married. I gained 10 pounds. My new husband could COOK! We bought a house, I gained more. We had a baby, then another two years later. The weight wouldn't leave. I tried joining a gym. I tried different kinds of diets. Nothing worked. Until something did.
A couple of years ago, I found a very low-carb diet. Coupled with the Zumba classes I loved, it did the trick. I lost 35 pounds! Then, we had another baby. Now, I'm losing and gaining the same 5 to 10 pounds over and over again. I'm trying to eat the right things. And I've started running again. Ick. I wish I could fit the Zumba back into life, but I don't have time to stand in lines. And my sweet hubby is rarely home in time for me to make it to a 6:00 class. (Excuses. Hear 'em?)
I also have issues with food. I eat, a lot. Sometimes, I don't know why I eat. It's not like I'm hungry all the time. I just get bored, or sad, or happy, or whatever. And I want to eat. Summer is the worst time for this. Especially when I'm home all day, in a house with three kids.
I'm working on it. Working it out, I guess. Running and fighting myself every day.