Have you ever hiked to the top of a hill, 

only to discover that it is the bottom of  foothills 

which lead to a taunting, unreachable mountain that lies ahead?  

I think that's where I found myself this month (figuratively speaking). 

I have experienced this in the flesh too.  It's super discouraging. 

The hill I summited was one of health.  I wanted to drop a pant size, be more confident in the mirror, feel stable in my core and be in the kind of shape that I could just hike up a mountain.

I achieved all that.  Shouldn't I be happy?

But atop the hill all I could see was the mountain ahead.  

My mountain was a number on a scale; a specific number of pounds. 

I've never owned a scale.  In the past, I would advise friends to not consult the scale.  It was a non-factor in my health for years.  Until I got a gym membership.  They have a scale in the bathroom.  I was just curious.  Then I made an innocent goal weight with my wonderful husband.  I told him I'd heard the last 5lbs are the hardest.  He scoffed and said, "why not make your goal 5lbs less?  The last 5 would mean nothing. It was so subjective."  

I knew he was being encouraging.  

I knew he didn't care what I weighed.  

He's never seen the numbers.  

But now I had a number.  

It stuck in my brain like a relentless commercial jingle.  

  

(Juicy fruit, it's gonna move ya; 

once you pop, the fun don't stop; 

gimme a break, gimme a break, 

break me off a piece of that...)

I was telling myself that the number on the scale was not important.  (jingle, jingle) But I was lying.  (jingle, jingle)

It had become all too important in my heart. 

Then I started pushing crazy. 

As mentioned in National Treasure:

Ben Gates: But one step short of crazy, what do you get?

Riley Poole: Obsessed.

Ben Gates: Passionate.

I'd say obsessed is the best description for me.  

I started lifting weights, calorie counting, intensifying my workouts. 

Every time I allowed a cheat day or a treat I would badger myself with harsh words,

"Rebecca! You're lack of self-control is appalling!" 
"How will you ever help anyone reach their health goals if you can't reach yours?" 
"You're a fake." 
"Much more of this and you're going to be fat again... look down at that bulging belly."
"You look more like a pregnant woman than a health professional."

The mountain was about more than a number on the scale.
It determined my credibility to become who I long to be.

In the midst of all this I decided to reward myself with a big hair change when I reached the top of the mountain.  Short bangs and red hair.  But I wasn't telling anyone yet.  I didn't know if I'd ever make it there.

My obsession was leading to depression.  My mind was consumed my heart felt sick.
I was notably unhappy.  I didn't even feel like an extrovert anymore.  I wanted to hide in social settings. The shame was wreaking havoc on my soul.

Then the Lord broke in.

(My objective was not to make this a cliff-hanger... my process is just soo long.  I'll write again soon!!)