“I am convinced and confident of this very thing, that He who has begun a good work in you will [continue to] perfect and complete it until carry it until the day of Christ Jesus.” – Philippians 1:6
Week Two: The Progress Report
Let me start with what I did this week—now that Mom is back and the intense caregiving season has eased—because accountability matters even when you’re discouraged.
I got one walk in—five miles on the nature trail. It was my first cold-weather walk in 20 years, and I learned some things. I dressed warm enough in layers for the most part. My windbreaker, knit cap, and upper body layering worked well. But my leggings were not warm enough. It was pretty cold; it was in the 30s and a little windier than I thought. I started to get cold on the way back, and by the time I got home, I was chilled to the bone for a couple of hours. My nose wouldn’t stop running, and my thighs itched for a while after the walk.
Twenty years ago, I remembered that leggings were fine until about 20 degrees. Maybe I was remembering that wrong, but I’ll make sure to make that adjustment for the next walk this week. I’m going to invest in a balaclava or cycling mask for my face and neck, and on the colder days, I may do three and a half miles instead of five. You might be wondering why I choose to walk outside in the winter instead of the mall or some place warm. I just like walking outside in nature. It does wonders for my mental health, and I am reminded of how much more I appreciate the beauty that is winter during my walks. Now, don’t get it twisted, me and winter ain’t friends, but I still appreciate what she brings to the table.
I haven’t lifted heavy for the last month and a half, so I also loaded up my barbell at home and did a couple of sets of deadlifts. It was about 130 pounds with the bar and plates. It felt so good to move heavy weight again, even if it was just a couple of sets. I’ve been researching Caroline Girvan’s Iron Series on YouTube, and I’m planning to start Day 1 this week and work towards completing the series in three-day-a-week increments (maybe more when my schedule allows).
My food tracking was MUCH better this week. Most days I tracked all my meals, other days at least breakfast. That’s progress from where I was in week one.
But I’m struggling with my water intake. My goal is 100 ounces daily, and I haven’t hit that at all! Water is all I drink, so I thought it would be easy. 100 ounces is a big task, so I realize now that I must be strategic with that, too. I’m also dealing with hunger—some days I’m hungrier than I’d like to be. That usually happens when I’m busy outside my home with running errands, etc. I’m working on prepping snacks and making sure I get enough whole, quality foods so I don’t feel like I’m starving. Balancing all my macronutrients—protein, carbs, and good fats—along with water will help a lot.
I planned to walk twice this week. And because life be life-ing, I was able to get to the nature trail once.
So there it is. Some wins. Some struggles. Still showing up.
The Weight I’m Carrying (And I Don’t Mean Pounds)
Here’s what’s been weighing on me this week, and I don’t mean the number on the scale.
I’m really, really feeling discouraged about being over 200 pounds.
I never ever thought I would be this heavy, and it definitely bothers me. I don’t like the way I look. This isn’t about self-image or body positivity for me right now. This is about my health. This is about metabolic dysfunction that puts me at risk for diabetes, heart disease, and a future I don’t want.
I clearly understand that this weight is hormonal. I’m post-menopausal. Estrogen is gone! I am on hormone replacement therapy. I’m dealing with insulin resistance, which is not an easy fix. And what really hurts is that eliminating carbs doesn’t work for me anymore, not as it did years ago. The strategies that used to help me (in the past) to lose weight quickly don’t touch this stubborn, hormonally-driven weight.
I’m doing everything I can to get better metabolically. I’m tracking my food. I adjusted my eating window ( I stop all eating at 6:00 pm) to keep insulin lower overnight. I’m strength training. I’m walking. I’m trying to lower my A1C from 5.7 to between 4.5 and 5.0 because I know that’s the root of all of this. When I fix the insulin resistance, everything else will most likely fall into place, but I know that will take some time.
I’m discouraged. And I’m tired. And some days, I wonder: am I fighting a losing battle?
The Season I Keep Comparing Myself To
I’m realizing (as I sit with this discouragement), that I keep comparing myself now—in the autumn season of my life—to who I was in the summer season of my life. And autumn will always lose that comparison.
Twenty years ago, at 35, I was in the summer season of my life. I was metabolically fit and could push through anything. I joined Weight Watchers, practiced portion control, walked three times a week—and seven months later, I’d lost 45 pounds. It felt effortless.
Now at 55, I’m in the autumn season of my life—perhaps late autumn, maybe even early winter. I’m post-menopausal, hormonally shifted, and, insulin resistant. And the strategies that worked in my summer season of life? They don’t work in autumn.
I’m learning that you spend a lot of time when you transition to different seasons in your life, mourning the past season and making the adjustment to the season you’re actually in.
Looking back at Parts 1 and 2 of this series, I can see it now: I set goals in Part 1 the way I would have in summer—ambitious, determined, ready to press through. In Part 2, when life interfered with caregiving, I had to remind myself to be flexible. But that wasn’t just about Mom’s trip or Granny’s health; that was autumn teaching me that I can’t operate the same way anymore (like it’s summer). The grace I needed in Part 2 wasn’t just for that week—it’s for this entire season of life I’m in.
I’m mourning summer. I’m mourning how my body responded then. I’m mourning the metabolism that worked with me instead of against me. I’m mourning how easy it used to be.
And I’m trying to learn what my autumn season needs, which is different. My autumn season needs more strategic precision with protein and macros. Autumn needs strength training, not just cardio. Autumn needs grace for the days when winter weather makes walking feel impossible. Autumn needs rest without calling it laziness.
The transition is hard. The grief is real. And some days, I’m not sure if I’m honoring my season or making excuses.
Here’s what I know for sure (and I’ve shared this a few times): going through menopause, despite all its challenges, is one of the most profound and greatest gifts of my life. I know that might sound strange when I’m talking about insulin resistance, stubborn weight gain, and grief over what my body used to do. But it’s true. There’s a wisdom that comes with this season. A clarity. A freedom from things that used to control me. Autumn has gifts that summer never had—and I have to remind myself of that whenever I start mourning what once was.
But grace says: honor the season you’re actually in instead of punishing yourself for not being in the season you left behind.
The System That’s Rigged Against Us
You know what makes it even harder? The healthcare system in the United States is designed to profit from our sickness, not support our prevention.
GLP-1 medications (like Ozempic, Mounjaro, Wegovy) were created to help people struggling with diabetes, but they also help people like me with hormonal weight gain and insulin resistance. They help regulate blood sugar, support the liver, and can help prevent diabetes and heart disease. They’re definitely not a magic pill—they’re a tool. And for someone dealing with what I’m dealing with, they could be a helpful tool.
But they’re not covered by insurance until you become diabetic.
Continuous glucose monitors (CGMs) could help me see in real time how my body responds to different foods, how my glucose spikes and crashes, and help me make better choices to manage my insulin resistance.
But they’re not covered by insurance until you become diabetic.
Do you see the problem?
The system waits for you to get sick before it helps you. It’s not about prevention. It’s not about supporting people who are trying to avoid chronic disease. It’s about greed and corruption. The healthcare system profits when we become diabetic, when we need more medications, and when we develop complications.
This government doesn’t truly care about the healthy well-being of its citizens—only about ways to get more money once we get sick.
And that’s a shame. That’s infuriating. And that’s the reality we’re fighting against.
So I’m fighting this battle with the tools I have access to right now: food, movement, consistency, and faith. Have faith and put in the work. I believe that fighting the battle with the tools I have will be successful for me. That’s how having true faith works. (James 2:26)
Am I Fighting a Losing Battle?
So when I ask myself, “Am I fighting a losing battle?”—I’m not just asking about my weight or my A1C.
I’m asking: Can I win when my body is working against me? Will there be success when the strategies that used to work don’t work anymore, or when the tools that could help aren’t accessible because I’m not sick enough yet? How about when the system is designed to wait for me to fail before it steps in?
I don’t know.
Even with all the faith in the world, I honestly don’t know if I can win this battle.
Some days I wonder if I’m just delaying the inevitable. Some days, I wonder if my body has already decided the outcome, and I’m just exhausting myself fighting against it.
The only thing I do know is that I’m still fighting.
I’m showing up. Imperfectly. Inconsistently. With discouragement and doubt. But I’m showing up with hope.
Because that’s what faith looks like when you don’t know if you can win.
He Who Began a Good Work
“I am convinced and confident of this very thing, that He who has begun a good work in you will [continue to] perfect and complete it until carry it until the day of Christ Jesus.” – Philippians 1:6
The Lord God started a good work in me. He started it before I was over 200 pounds. He started it before insulin resistance. He started it before menopause changed everything. And He will carry it on to completion.
I don’t know what completion looks like. I don’t know if it looks like 165 pounds and an A1C of 4.8. (It would be nice, though) I don’t know if it looks like learning to steward this body in a completely different way than I expected. I don’t know if it looks like fighting this fight for years and finding peace in the process rather than the outcome (I struggle with even the thought of this right now).
But I know this: He who began it will complete it.
So even when I don’t know if I can win, I trust that Jesus does. Even when I’m discouraged and tired and wondering if this is all pointless, I know and trust that He’s not done with me yet.
That’s not toxic positivity. That’s not pretending everything is fine. That’s faith that holds space for discouragement and doubt while still choosing to show up. And I know that’s okay.
A Two-Week Pause
Before we get to the reflection questions, I need to let you know: I’m taking a two-week break from the blog.
This isn’t me giving up on Determined December or abandoning this journey. This is me being strategic about building something sustainable for all of us. I’m using these two weeks to rest and reflect on 2025. I also need to work on some important back-end projects, such as getting my email list up and running so you never miss a post, fine-tuning systems that will help this community thrive, and preparing for what’s coming in 2026.
My next blog will go live on January 7, 2026. Sometime in January, I’ll be sharing Jump-Start January—the first of my monthly check-ins where I’ll give you full accountability, updates, and what I’ve learned from Determined December. Each month moving forward will have at least one blog focused on my health journey: Faithful February, Momentum March, and so on. Each month, a new alliterative theme. Each month, showing up with honesty about what’s working, what’s not, and what I’m learning along the way.
I’ll still be active on Threads and Instagram during these two weeks, sharing encouragement and staying connected with this community. I’m working behind the scenes to make 2026 even better for all of us.
So keep walking your journey. Keep showing up. Keep extending yourself grace.
Have yourself a merry Christmas. And remember, Jesus is the reason for the season!
Happy New Year! And I’ll see you back here on January 7th.
Reflection Questions
Take a moment to journal on these:
- If you took your effort and determination out of the “results” category and put them in the “faithfulness” category, how would that change how you see your progress?
- What battle are you fighting right now where you don’t know if you can win? How does it feel to keep showing up anyway?
- Where do you see systemic injustice or broken systems making your journey harder? How do you keep fighting when the odds are stacked against you?
- What does “He who began a good work in you will complete it” mean for you in your current season? Where do you need to trust God’s completion more than your own timeline?
- What’s one thing you’re still doing even though you’re discouraged? (Because that matters. That counts.)
- Looking back at your December goals (whether health, faith, or personal), where have you shown up even when it was hard? Can you name that as faithfulness rather than failure?
Walk With Me
If you’re fighting a battle you don’t know if you can win—if your body isn’t cooperating, if the tools you need aren’t accessible, if the strategies that used to work don’t work anymore, if you’re discouraged and tired and wondering if it’s all pointless—I want you to hear this:
You’re not failing. You’re fighting.
And fighting when you don’t know if you can win? That’s the bravest kind of faith there is.
Determined December continues. Week three down. Some wins. Some struggles. A lot of discouragement. But still showing up.
Week three is done. Week four is coming. I don’t know what it will bring—but I’ll be here, reporting back, because that’s what we do in this community. We show up for each other, even in the messy middle.
Because God started a good work, and He will complete it. I just have to keep walking, even when I don’t know where the path leads.
Our best years are not behind us. They’re unfolding right in front of us—even when it doesn’t feel like it.
Life is a faith journey. Walk boldly—even when you’re scared, discouraged, and uncertain.
Be brave enough to pursue your dreams. 💜
Be faithful enough to trust the process. 💜
Be kind enough to help another woman along the way. 💜
