I've gained weight.

It's a fact and... It's ok.  A couple of months ago the thought made me cry.  Every bad thing I thought about myself came rushing to the surface because of the simple fact that I have put on a few pounds.

To me, the weight gain screamed to the world what a failure I was.  How out of shape I was, despite actually being in great shape-- just perhaps not aesthetically so.  How could I hate myself so much after talking so much about learning to love my body in all its flaws?

And all of that was true, of course.  But in a way, it is a little easier to love your body when your weight is a good 20 pounds below where you once were.  It's much harder when your body is slowly creeping its way back to where it once was.  Especially when that comes as a result of depression and loneliness.  Not necessarily unhappiness... because really... I can't say I'm completely unhappy in my life, even though I'm struggling with depression.  Does that make any sense??

Sometimes it is almost the thought of how others perceive me now that I'm here that has kept me down.  Before I went to Florida a few weeks ago, I felt absolutely mortified to think of my friends and family seeing me like this.  I actually attempted several times to lose weight before my trip, which only backfired on me.  How could I show my face, after finishing a 70.3 triathlon and running all summer to train for a marathon, and be heavier than I was the last time they had seen me?  Honestly, I felt embarrassed.

I don't feel embarrassed anymore.  I don't feel ashamed of it.  Can I say I love it?  Hell no.  But yesterday I did something in the arena of "self care:" I bought myself some nice, cute, and yes-- expensive (to me) clothes that fit.  I bought jewelry and new sunglasses.  No more hiding in t-shirts and workout clothes, because that's what I've been doing.  I'm tired of it.  I once had a wardrobe full of beautiful, flattering outfits.  When I lost weight I gave it all away.  As I've slowly rebuilt my wardrobe, I never really thought about the fact that staying at that weight might be a struggle, and one that wasn't really worth it.  And so I'm not going to be hiding myself in outfits that I don't even like, while I work hard to fit back into outfits that might fit me for a month or two.

If I'm able to once again fit into those clothes, so be it.  But the truth is, I'm exhausted.  I am close to complete burn-out with my training and I don't want to get there.  I want to keep loving fitness.  I want to enjoy food once again without guilt and without worrying about what it will do to my waistline.  I want to go for a run and not care about how slow or fast I was or how many miles I got in that day.  I want to just be.