Rachel Reports Life

Last night at dinner, a friend of mine commented that she hadn’t seen me on Tumblr much lately. I am all too aware of that, and though I could complain about how busy I am forever, it’s more than that.

I went to Israel, life got hard to do correctly, and I gave up.

Because this is how it goes: when weight loss is good, it’s great. You eat the right amount of food, you eat the right kinds of food. You exercise long and you exercise hard. You drink 64 ounces of water a day. You weigh yourself, the number is smaller, and all is right with the world.

I know this because it was my life from January 2010 to September 2011. Yes, it had the natural ups and downs of fixing one’s unhealthy lifestyle, but for the most part, I was working my way toward 85 pounds lighter and loving every minute of it.

When I hit 80 down in at the end of August, my life was pretty much perfect. I was coming off of an amazing internship in one of my favorite cities; I had just begun dating a wonderful boy; and I was on my way to Israel for the semester. I had swagger. My brain was smart. My body was small, fit, what I had always wanted it to be. I could finally stop losing weight. Give or take a few pounds, I was pretty much in maintenance.

But then I went to Israel, and suddenly, every story I’ve ever heard about why keeping the weight off is harder than taking it off became a reality.

It was a challenge - for my mindset, for my workout routine, for my eating habits.

I failed.

First, it’s okay. You think you’re invincible, that you can eat whatever you want and do whatever you want because your workout metabolism is still balancing out the evils. You stop running. You eat a little more, and a little more, and you don’t really think about what’s happening. Life is going on around you, and who are you, with your new body and new life, to miss it?

It’s a downward spiral, or at least that’s what it was for me from November through January.

I recognized what I was doing to myself, eating copious amounts of anything I pleased without exercise, and I hated it - always after the fact. I wanted to change it. But I didn’t, and I felt its effects. Instead of going back to the past 21 months of good choices, I got scared. I lost sight of how to treat myself well.

As most people who ever try to be less fat know, less calories largely means weighing less. So while I was nowhere near anorexia (I like food too much, let’s be real), I was also nowhere near health. Eating less for most of the day inevitably led to my digestive system panicking and asking for more food at dinner - defeating the purpose of eating less and certainly the purpose of making good food choices. It was a cycle of under/over-nourishment that I’m ashamed I let myself fall into.

January wasn’t any better, though. Instead of doing life, I just thought about doing life and then did other things instead. I came back to school, but I no longer live with my best friends and my boyfriend is in another state. General unhappiness and my workload wore on me more than expected. I ate more than I should have. I moved less than I should have. The spiral continued.

And then on Monday, I was getting ready to interview the Republican National Committee Chairman and making my usual excuses why I didn’t have time to run. But I did - three miles of strong feet on road, fast and refreshing. It occurred to me that Monday night exemplified what it means to me to do life - interview cool people, write great articles and run. Always run.

It was a turning point, and I hope it continues. I need to continue it. I will.

Although I only gained ten pounds back over the 3-4 months, I feel the difference, and it proved something I think I needed to learn from experience - health is not a number on a scale. Health is really, truly a lifestyle. Health is treating yourself the way the human body was made to be treated, nothing more, nothing less. Health is keeping the good habits alive, eating wisely and exercising often, no matter what situation you put yourself into. Health is knowing the difference between eating until you’re satisfied, full, and stuffed. Health is finding new reasons to be inspired when your body simply isn’t amazing you anymore - when you’re complacent and taking the new life for granted.

I don’t tell you all this because I want a pity party. I tell you this because I feel like I owe an explanation for why I dropped off the face of the earth, and maybe this will strike a chord with some people in a positive way. I was upset - with myself, with the world - and the less I was on Tumblr, the less I was excited about doing life the right way (the not eating everything in sight way). Hiding justified it, but I can do better than that. For me. For you. For the lifestyle I need to reclaim.

In the end, all that matters is that we can pick ourselves up, dust ourselves and our running shoes off, and keep doing what we usually do best - life.