This isn’t going to be a sexy post…but it’s related to sex in a certain way. Which I’ll get to.
Over the course of the last stupid pandemic year (I should have just titled this post How Covid Ruined My Health and Made Me Fat), I’ve pretty much let my health go.
In the beginning, it wasn’t so bad. I was feeling pretty motivated, stuck at home, because it was “new.” My yoga studio went virtual, and I was doing yoga every weekday at 10 am, because it fit into my new at-home work day. I was monitoring and controlling what I ate during the day, and I drank enough water.
I did however, start partaking of wine earlier and earlier (because why not? it was always 5:00 somewhere), which made me crave crap snack food, pizza, takeout, pretty much anything made of bread, cheese, and fat. Because, I’ll be honest, bread and cheese are two of my favorite things in the world.
Once summer hit, and I didn’t need to work anymore, I slept in, lost my motivation to work out, lost track of a normal eating schedule, but kept up with the wine and bread and cheese and crap.
And then I went back to work – like real work…where I couldn’t control what I did all day because I was AT the school building. And we were in full remote mode, so all I did all day was sit in a chair and stare at a screen. By the time I got home at 3, I had absolutely zero energy. Zero energy and zero motivation = depression. And that’s where I went. I wasn’t alone in this, either. Mr. D was in the same boat, and it really hurt us as a couple. Our lack of drive for anything constituted trouble in our marriage, too. That why, in November, we found ourselves seeing a sex therapist to help get ourselves back on track.
It’s not hard to see, in retrospect, how our lifestyle was contributing to our problems. Physical health has a lot to do with mental and emotional health…and sexual health.
The sex therapy did help quite a bit with the mental and emotional aspects of our relationship, but throughout it all, the therapist urged us both to get healthier (namely to exercise). I tried. I got back on a pretty good schedule of short workouts. But I didn’t keep it up for longer than a few weeks. We just kept ordering takeout, and, as a result, I couldn’t lose weight, even with workouts. So…I gave up.
Plus, I’m back in school, so my days are busy. Our kids are back in school. Not full time, but close. And I’m still the mom-taxi, so I have to take my kid to practice every day. And I’m going to school, myself. I’m busy. And it’s really easy to say I’m too busy.
But, that’s not true. I spend a lot of time doing this. And I read. And I watch TV. I have time…I’ve just chosen not to use it getting healthier. After all, there are plenty of people just as busy as me (or busier) that manage to workout and cook healthy meals. And before Covid hit, we were really doing that pretty well (at least the cooking part). Somehow, this last year just twisted something inside of us and sapped us of drive.
That “Covid-19” is a real thing. I’ve gained roughly 20 lbs. I lose 5 here and gain 3 back, but I’m sitting pretty uncomfortably at 215-ish right now.
I just had labs done, and my cholesterol is through the roof and my liver is screaming “help me!” So…yeah. I’m not looking forward to my next doctor’s appointment, because I know exactly what she’s going to say to me. You’re fat. Work out. Stop drinking. Well, she’ll be nicer about it, but that’s the gist of it.
I pretty much have no choice but to dig deep and find some fucking motivation to get off my ass and start eating healthier and moving my butt. So, I rejoined Noom, and downloaded a workout app called FitON that offers a bunch of free workouts in various styles. I’m motivated by stickers and trophies and little texts that say, “Good girl…you did great today!” So these sorts of apps are helpful for me, psychologically. Mr. D is normally our household cook, but since Covid did a similar thing to Him, He’s not been motivated to cook the sorts of meals He used to. I’ve asked Him to, for my sake, and He’s made an effort to get back to it. That’ll help us all.
I’m frustrated. And I don’t feel great about myself, but I know that it’s in my power to change that. I have two choices…to change or not to change. That’s it. there’s no “sort of changing.” It’s a Yoda moment – “Do or do not. There is no try.”
Ugh. Deep, deep sigh.
I have really loved my relationship with pizza, and Chinese takeout, and Jimmy John’s sandwiches, and Door Dash bringing me burritos and tacos, and fast food of all sorts, and lattes, and…. You get it. All. The. Things. All the naughtiest foods. If it’s cheesy and savory and full of fat and carbs, I’m all over it. But, it’s not good for me.
Lettuce? An apple? Grilled chicken and broccoli? They all just make me sad right now. And yet, I’ve got to learn to love them again.
I don’t have to be thin to be sexy. I know that. I’m not even looking to be thin. But, healthy? That provides energy…the energy I need to be a sexually active and feel better. So…this is it. My written contract (you’re my witnesses). I’m gonna do better.