The idea of an all-inclusive resort is a double-edged sword. On one side, not having to scrutinize prices and take out your wallet constantly is wonderful. On the other, it's hard to practice any form of self-control, especially for someone with eating issues. I've gone into each Sandals trip with a different mindset and I'm not sure which one is the best. As a recovering perfectionist, I know it's not about having the best mindset but rather figuring out which is the best for me. I'm searching for a way to find that happy medium, that place of balance - where I'm enjoying myself fully without restriction (it is an expensive vacation, after all) and not bingeing to the point of mental anguish and self-sabotage. My mom calls that latter point "eating with abandon" and she worries when she sees me doing it because she knows it signals that I'm about to take a mental dive off a very high cliff.
I went into this vacation already feeling heavier than I'd like. In full transparency, I haven't counted macros consistently since discovery day out of an attempt to be nicer to myself, lean into this time of repair, and not slide feet first down a slippery slope of controlling food and my body because the rest of my life has felt out of control. I've been there, done that, and it never ends well. I'm proud of how I handled the first two to three days. I indulged without stuffing myself past that mental point where I know "you don't need, nor do you even really want, this" and leaned into being "fun El". The mental anguish started to creep in on days three to five. I felt bloated (I don't know why this always surprises me - it's all you can eat and drink!) and not myself. When I attempt to parse out WHY this is such an issue for me when I hear other people saying, "I'm going to be a pig for five days!" and I don't feel like I can accept that kind of wavering of self-discipline, I think it's a point of pride. I put pressure on myself to be different - to be the person who can drink all day and be fun yet get up and workout before hitting the pool, the person who maintains six-pack abs through a personal tragedy and/or an indulgent vacation. I don't know where this comes from.
I didn't do it perfectly. Pat could feel my sadness on our last two days and it affected him, naturally. No one wants to be around the girl calling herself Porky Pig. I don't want to be that girl. I just don't know how to flip that switch yet. It's a deep disappointment in myself that I'm ashamed to admit but I'd be lying if I didn't. Now that we're back I'm in this in between place of wanting to recommit and get myself back to a place where I feel like myself and not wanting to freak Pat out that I'm falling apart. So I'm taking one step at a time - getting back to regular workouts, walking Rex three times a day, not drinking alcohol, eating without weighing and measuring yet but focusing on the greens and protein that I know makes me feel my best. My plan is to get back to counting when Pat leaves for his next traveling rotation in December. My goal is not to whittle myself down to my tiniest point, but rather to get back to where I know I'm at my best. I know that bodies are meant to change constantly and that it's not about getting my body "back" but rather getting it to its next stage. It sounds ridiculous but I just want to feel proud of myself again.
One nice thing is that I don't have a goal date in mind. This was our only vacation this year and nothing is planned for the near future. Looking at the CDC map and current Covid rates, I don't think we're going anywhere anytime soon. So I'm finding my old mantra, "steady as she goes", and letting the small, daily steps do their slow and steady work. I hope this post isn't too much of a downer - it's just where I'm at at this moment. I committed to sharing it all on here, not just when I feel like I'm doing it right and figuring it out.
Yes we have matching suits.