Battle of the bulge, or mind?

So, indulge me; is the battle of the bulge really just the battle of the mind?

Today as I was enduring what can only be described as a gruelling, tortuous run, I was pondering to myself why is it that sometimes I can run the same path and feel as light as a cloud, and other times I require a defibrillator and well…basically a whole new body.

Sure there are certainly factors other than my mental state of mind at the time which can impact upon my run. At present I have a nagging head cold which in true Canberra winter style would like to stick around just to remind me how cold and miserable a long winter can feel by the end. As if trying to think through a heady haze of fog was not bad enough, the last few day’s I’ve tried to run through it also.

Yes, I have no doubt that some external factors can play a part in battling the bulge, but essentially external factors aside, in general when it comes to battling the bulge, where does the biggest battle really lie?

When we reach for the extra slice of pizza at dinner, or grab another handful of m&m’s whilst watching TV, what state of mind are we in? When we try on our tenth pair of jeans convinced we look fat in ALL of them, what state of mind are we in? When we self-critique as we look in the mirror and focus on all the personally identifiable flaws, what state of mind are we in? Or when we compare ourselves to Sexy Twin’s convinced we are twice their size, what state of mind are we in then?

Surely if we could abandon all these mental triggers and messages, the battle would be won? The choice to lose weight would be as simple as that. A mere thought that came to fruition because the biggest battle no longer existed and action immediately followed without thoughts of failure, or past incidence.

How many times have you said “this is my year, this is my time”. How many times have you started a ‘diet’ or decided that the time was upon you to make real and consistent changes? If you are anything like me, it’s too many to count.

All too often I would start a new day with a fresh approach. Determined this was the start of the real thing. This WAS the time I was going to lose weight. This diet would work. They never did. I never intentionally set out to sabotage myself, but I can see in hindsight that more often than not I was. The mental battle was already lost before the physical one had even begun.

So what am I saying? Well, I guess in many ways I am suggesting that a mental health check has to occur for many of us before a physical one can follow. For some people it really is as simple as eliminating those m&m’s from the diet. For some the adage that simply eating less to lose weight is true.

For others however, and for me personally, it’s so much more than what I consume. It’s equally if not more, about the exercise and, more importantly - the thought. Exercise is something I can control. It is something that I can conquer, and as a result, it is something I have self pride in afterwards. Sure, I feel pleased with myself when I resist the urge to binge, but unlike pushing myself on a good strong run, simply not eating a TimTam doesn’t come with the added bonus of endorphins.

There is barely a day that goes by that I don’t spend a large portion of that day talking myself in and out of exercise. I negotiate with myself over having ‘days off’. I negotiate with myself over where to run, what time and for how long. Usually it comes down to a simple case of running out of time and hence the only solution is to get running.

For me, when it comes to food, I don’t seem to negotiate. I eat it or I don’t. I feel some guilt, or I don’t.

As I was running along the ridge today, I was fighting all sorts of mental demons. “Just stop, it won’t matter. Turn around, go home. You deserve a day off. You have a sore throat. You need to rest. You’re too bloated to run today, you look like a walrus trying to chase a seal. Save yourself the embarrassment”. This is only a snippet of the thoughts unfurling in my head as I continued to push myself, and my legs, to finish the run I had started. Naturally the minute I arrived home and received CPR from Muscle Man (I mean it, resuscitation was required), I was elated I had run and felt a huge sense of pride and of course my runners high.

Some days running feels superb and I literally run with a smile wide across my face. The thoughts streaming through my head on these days are about my strength, my success, the enjoyment and self satisfaction I feel during and afterwards. These days my mental state, my mind, is clear and kind.

So why somedays am I mentally so 'in tune'. So prepared. Why others am I in desperate need of my own Tony Robbins and a kick up the bum to boot (both to get running and to be kind!).

Of course, it’s all SO much greater than just my run. It’s how I speak to myself mentally every day. Some days the battle feels won. Some days I think that I have all my monkeys on my back sorted and the “fat girl” I saw myself as for so long, is gone. Other days it’s so fresh I can almost literally feel the weight of her sitting on my left shoulder, whispering into my ear reminding me I have flaws (and flab).

Sadly the reality is I don’t have all the answers. The battle is yet to be won and I know all too well that it’s a daily challenge to eat well, to move more - and above all, to love myself for who I am, outside as well as in.

Sometimes I wonder if I had lost a really, really significant amount of weight (i.e. 30- 50 kilos) would I still feel this way? Or would the changes be so incredibly obvious I couldn’t possibly be disappointed with what I saw? But then surely it all comes back to the battle of the mind doesn’t it. In my mind I want to see myself as a svelte, taut, Gillian Michael's (USA Biggest Loser). Heck, wouldn’t we all in our minds eye?

So then, can someone tell me how to remove my minds eye?