Last week I was in New York for work. I came out of one of the back-to-back meetings I had scheduled and glanced at my iPhone. Missed call. From my doctor’s office.
My heart began to pound; they only call if something is wrong. I quickly gave a ring back and had to leave a message with the receptionist. Damn it, I thought, as I headed into my next meeting.
Four hours later I connected with my physician who proceeded to tell me my cholesterol was way too low and my blood sugar was high.
“It’s kind of weird to say this, but I need you to eat more fat and less fruit,” she continued. She gave me some ideas on how to adjust my diet and told me to come back in six months to get checked out again. It made sense. I had been feeling… off… for awhile. (Go ahead, make a joke. I would.)
While it did make sense, I’ve been really struggling with it. Eat more fat? That seems so crazy to me. I am so scared of putting weight back on, that changing what’s been my routine for over two years is pretty terrifying.
My want to be healthy, though, is stronger than my fear. Even though I’ve wanted to lose another 15 pounds before moving into “maintenance” mode, I made the change this week. This means eating more calories to maintain my current weight, rather than losing. It’s the only mathematical way to increase my fats. (Weight loss, and maintenance, is simple math, I don’t care what anyone says.)
That’s the part that’s messing with me. In my head, eating more means getting fat. Not in a you-should-be-worried-I-have-an-eating-disorder kind of way, mind you, because I know this is my body’s way of telling me it’s time to make the change. But that doesn’t make it any easier.
Nothing about this process is easy. I had fooled myself into thinking it would be once I reached a healthy weight.
But I realize now, just like at the start of this journey, that I have to blindly trust that it’s what I’m supposed to do, no matter how hard it is. Make the adjustments I need to make and most importantly… keep moving forward.