No pain, no gain. We have all heard this cliche at one point or another. Most have probably used it. I heard it just last night, but it began to have new meaning to me.
I watch The Biggest Loser. I have from the beginning, and I love the show. On the night of the season premiere I was out of the house and had Greg tape it so as not to miss a thing. Later that week when I sat down to watch it my reaction took me by surprise. I cried through a great deal of it. Last night the second episode aired and I didn't outright cry, but still was teary and pretty emotional about it. I could really identify with what it was these people were feeling.
No pain, no gain. The first application of this is pretty obvious. Last night the contestants were feeling some pain! A good number of them actually throw up repeatedly during the first few workouts. I can't even imagine how hard I would have to work to make myself throw up. But they chose to stay. Sure, they have all sorts of incentive, and don't want to throw away a huge opportunity, but that doesn't mean they don't deserve huge credit. If I was still obese, not used to exercise, and thrown in to a workout that reduced me to tears and vomit, I might just have walked away. The fact that they stayed, when they could have chosen to walk out that door speaks volumes to the commitment they made to their own journey. It makes me look at myself and my commitment to my journey. I don't know that I would have been ready to face what they did at the beginning. But I feel committed, even to the point of sacrifice. And yes, I have definitely had some sacrifice. But that is another blog. So, what are you willing to sacrifice to commit to something you want?
No pain, no gain. The second application is more emotional. These people have had some pain in there lives. Again, I am not the type to feel people are victims as far as weight goes. Gaining weight is a choice and not the end result of all that has been done to you. That being said, without pain there would be far fewer fat people. I know I for one find eating very soothing. When I am bored or lonely, I like to eat. It fills my time. When I am sad, I like to eat. Lets face it, eating is pleasurable. It feels good, it tastes good, and it takes your mind off other things. It has really been a struggle to divorce my eating from what I am feeling. I am constantly asking myself, "Are you hungry? Do you need to eat now for the sake of keeping a good plan for the day? If not, do you want to eat now because you 'feel' like it? Why? Bored, lonely, sad?" Now I do one of two things when I am bored, lonely, or sad. If I can , I go workout. It is something to do, there are lots of people at the gym (or trail, or park), and I always feel better afterward. If I can't go workout, I let myself feel bored, lonely or sad. As much as I have avoided feeling these things over the years, I have found it is not the end of the world. Somewhere in the back of my mind a few years ago I began to realize I had become quite numb to many things. I have spent so much time avoiding feeling things that are painful, that I also became numb to much joy too. Inch by inch, I am reclaiming my ability to feel things both good and bad. What don't you want to feel? Are you ready to face it head on?
No pain, no gain. Over the years it has felt so inspiring to see the Biggest Loser contestants go from morbidly obese to healthy and strong. It has a happy ending. In the past when I watched the show, that is what I enjoyed. It gave me hope for what I might be able to do. But it never made me cry until last week. I thought it would be different watching the show from the other side. I have lost my weight, so why be so emotional about it? First off, I felt the pain of where they were. I had not allowed myself to feel the fullness of the disappointment I had in myself went I was at my heaviest. Watching them come face to face with the reality of their situation brought to mind the sharp disappointment I had always refused to let myself feel at my own weight gain. Secondly, I knew a little of what they had in store. They were going to turn their lives upside down. Given the intensity of the program they are on, they would feel all of my exhaustion, sore muscles, and emotional turmoil times about 100. Third, and the part I love, I cried for their hope. That is why they were doing all of this. After all of the disappointment and failures, they had caught a glimpse of hope. There is another way, it can be better. They knew this time it could be and would be different. They knew deep in their heart something had changed and it was time to leave the excuses behind and take hold of the opportunity in front of them and succeed. Deep down in my heart I have this same hope. This time I knew weight loss would be different and that hope has been fulfilled. I have other things that need to change. I love God and walk with him daily, but He wants more of me than I am giving right now. I want that too. I can feel the hope I have buried deep inside fighting to have it's say. There is a choice here. I can extinguish the hope of more, and avoid the pain of change and failure and disappointment. Or I can cultivate that hope and do the hard work, allowing God to break me down so He can build me back up. I am sure it will be painful, it will take recognizing and feeling things I would rather avoid, and it will take some major priority changes. Is the gain worth the pain? Most definitely. How about you? Is there a hope deep down that there just might be change in store for you? What is it worth to you to have it? Are you ready...
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Who cares?
I have a picture that I have kept on my dresser for the past several months. It was one of the triggers that made me realize just how bad my weight had gotten. The setting was a Christmas party with a great group of friends last December. We are all standing in a row with me on one end. When the picture was printed and handed out to all of us, I remember looking at it and my heart sank. All I could think is "Look at how big I am," and "Really? Does my butt really stick out that far?" The funny part about my train of thought was that it ended with embarrassment. "Oh my gosh, my good friends all have this picture and can see how really fat I have become!!" It was not funny at the time, it was humiliating. What makes me laugh about it now is the ridiculousness of my embarrassment over it. I think the absurdity of it can be pinned on a couple of things.
The first is that it was ridiculous that I was so embarrassed to be seen in a picture. Did I think people didn't see me the rest of the time? I didn't just become fat in a picture. I was fat all of the time. To feel more embarrassed that people were seeing me in a picture, than I felt when I was with them in the moment is really pretty silly.
The second and more important is that it shows a level of self-centeredness and self-absorption. I told one of those ladies how the picture had made me feel and her reply was, "But we didn't see those things. You were just our friend, Kim." Of course they didn't. Do I look at pictures of my friends and pick out all of their flaws? No. When I see pictures of my friends I think, "Wow, what a great time that was," or "I remember what led up to the way we are all laughing." I was the only one focusing on how fat I looked in the picture, they didn't care. And I was the only one focusing on how fat I was in general. Aside from a reasonable concern for my health and well-being, they didn't care that I was fat. It really makes me realize how much time I spent thinking about how I looked to others, when all along, other people really weren't concerned with how I appeared. If I had anything to be embarrassed about it should be my level of self-absorption.
I think I applied the same mentality to other parts of my life. Why is it that when we are hurting or struggling, we don't want to let anyone know? "Well, they might see an ugly side to me. They might judge me. People might see that I am not all that put together." Why are we not all that honest about our faults? "My faults are not very pretty. I don't want anyone to see them. They might know I am not flawless."
It definitely takes a concentrated effort to get over that feeling that people are examining me and judging me. When I go to the gym and want to try something new, the temptation is to become really self-conscious. "What if I don't know what I am doing and look foolish?" Believe it or not, no one is looking. And furthermore if they are, no one cares. "Yikes, I look terrible in that picture!" All anyone is seeing is the good time they had. "I don't want anyone to know that I am struggling with my kids/husband/God (fill in the blank). They might think I am not a good parent/wife/Christian." Hey, everyone has been there themselves and may be able to offer me some guidance or encouragement. "I can't ask for prayer for my self-centeredness. Someone might think I am...uh...well...self-centered." Guess what? If I don't admit it, it doesn't mean it isn't true. And chances are, the people closest to me already know it anyway. Furthermore, it's not what they see when they look at me. They just see their friend, Kim. Better yet, they may begin to see their friend, Kim, no holds barred, as she really is. That is my goal.
The first is that it was ridiculous that I was so embarrassed to be seen in a picture. Did I think people didn't see me the rest of the time? I didn't just become fat in a picture. I was fat all of the time. To feel more embarrassed that people were seeing me in a picture, than I felt when I was with them in the moment is really pretty silly.
The second and more important is that it shows a level of self-centeredness and self-absorption. I told one of those ladies how the picture had made me feel and her reply was, "But we didn't see those things. You were just our friend, Kim." Of course they didn't. Do I look at pictures of my friends and pick out all of their flaws? No. When I see pictures of my friends I think, "Wow, what a great time that was," or "I remember what led up to the way we are all laughing." I was the only one focusing on how fat I looked in the picture, they didn't care. And I was the only one focusing on how fat I was in general. Aside from a reasonable concern for my health and well-being, they didn't care that I was fat. It really makes me realize how much time I spent thinking about how I looked to others, when all along, other people really weren't concerned with how I appeared. If I had anything to be embarrassed about it should be my level of self-absorption.
I think I applied the same mentality to other parts of my life. Why is it that when we are hurting or struggling, we don't want to let anyone know? "Well, they might see an ugly side to me. They might judge me. People might see that I am not all that put together." Why are we not all that honest about our faults? "My faults are not very pretty. I don't want anyone to see them. They might know I am not flawless."
It definitely takes a concentrated effort to get over that feeling that people are examining me and judging me. When I go to the gym and want to try something new, the temptation is to become really self-conscious. "What if I don't know what I am doing and look foolish?" Believe it or not, no one is looking. And furthermore if they are, no one cares. "Yikes, I look terrible in that picture!" All anyone is seeing is the good time they had. "I don't want anyone to know that I am struggling with my kids/husband/God (fill in the blank). They might think I am not a good parent/wife/Christian." Hey, everyone has been there themselves and may be able to offer me some guidance or encouragement. "I can't ask for prayer for my self-centeredness. Someone might think I am...uh...well...self-centered." Guess what? If I don't admit it, it doesn't mean it isn't true. And chances are, the people closest to me already know it anyway. Furthermore, it's not what they see when they look at me. They just see their friend, Kim. Better yet, they may begin to see their friend, Kim, no holds barred, as she really is. That is my goal.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
The art of fear
I discovered much about myself on this journey of losing weight. One of the strangest was realizing how scared I was to loose weight. It should be exciting. Maybe overwhelming, maybe intimidating. But I am not only talking about the process, I am talking about being afraid of actually being at my current weight.
I began this journey as part of a Biggest Loser contest at the gym we had newly joined. I won one of the months and received some personal training sessions as part of the prize. Our first session included an overall discussion of where I was and my goals. I told her my goal was loosing 60 lbs. (I was 40 lbs down at that point.) After all, 60 lbs. would make me the lowest I had been since college, and I had gritted my teeth just to hold on the that number. She looked at me and said, "You realize that that is still 25 lbs above the healthy range for your height, right?"
Shocked at her boldness, I stammered, "Uh, yeah, but I just want to be realistic... I've had three kids... 60 lbs. would be a big difference to me and my health... I think I need to hit that and maintain for a while just to get a feel for how that works."
She stared at me a minute with an amused grin on her face, and replied quite matter-of-factly, "No, I see no reason to stop short of a healthy goal. Your goal should be to loose about 80-85 lbs." She jotted it down on her note pad and then moved on, as if she had not just dropped a bombshell on me. When I got in the car I cried. I didn't just cry, I sobbed.
I pulled myself together and went home to tell my husband about this absurd idea the trainer had. He looked at me, without the grin, and said, "I agree. Why would you stop short? I know you can do it." I cried off and on for the next two days.
So why all the emotion? Why be so conflicted about another 20-25 lbs? I think it boils down to several things...
Fear of hard work... Plain and simple, I knew that meant real changes. Not just making sure I get out for a good walk now and then, but intentional, regular work outs. I tend to lean toward laziness when given the opportunity. I had always known it in the back of my mind, but had been unwilling to admit it to myself, much less to other people. I was going to have to admit to my laziness and give it up. As long as I am admitting unpleasant things, lets add gluttony to this point. I knew this meant giving up eating what I want, just because I want to. It means choosing the grilled chicken and rice when you want to order the Fettuccine Alfredo. (Let me take this opportunity to let you know there are some amazing grilled chicken dishes out there! Biaggi's and Olive Garden get my enthusiastic thumbs up.) I had to admit to myself I had been a glutton and give it up.
Fear of failure... I did not believe in myself. I did not think I could do it. I didn't think I could maintain it. (There is a part of me still struggling with that.) My trainer believed in me. My husband believed in me. I did not want to disappoint them. Moreover, I didn't want to disappoint myself or appear foolish when I failed. I realized I had given up on myself and needed to find a way to believe in myself again. Still working on it, but it is coming.
OK, here is the big one:
Fear of discovering who I am... This was the toughie. As a teen I was outgoing and friendly. Over the years I have become timid, afraid and shy. (My heart is palpitating and my stomach clenching as I admit this. I am also tearing up, which is how I know I hit the nail on the head.) What happened to me? I think life. You feel rejected and you close off a little bit of yourself. You fail and you protect yourself a little more. You get hurt and decide not to open that part of yourself again. Slowly, over time I have built a wall of protection around myself. (**Disclaimer**Don't get me wrong, I don't buy in to the TV show hype about "here is why I am fat and who I can blame." I was fat because I chose to live a life of laziness and gluttony. I am no longer fat because I admitted that, repented of those sins, and God has helped me change.)
Loosing all of the weight meant revealing the girl who doesn't want to be exposed and vulnerable. Without the weight I have lost all of my excuses. It is easy not to join in to the church softball game when you are fat. No one really expects you to. Now, I have to admit, I was good at softball once. I let that skill whither over time. Why don't I want to play? Fear of not being good enough, being laughed at? I used to love performing in front of people. Many of you don't know that once upon a time I wanted to be an actress. Why didn't I? My excuse has been that I was overweight and didn't want to be seen in front of that many people. Too embarrassing. I even have a hard time speaking up in front of a group of friends. What's my excuse now? I might just have to admit I fear being rejected a little too much. I also have a hard time opening up to people and getting really close to them. I don't share too much of myself too often. If I get too close I might get hurt. I found it much easier to be a wallflower when I was fat. Now I find myself with more confidence, little by little becoming more of the outgoing person I used to be. Along with that comes the chance of being hurt. Really scary stuff for me.
I don't think I knew at the time why I was so upset over the thought of truly not being fat. All I knew was that the thought of losing that much made me feel really scared and vulnerable. The closer I got the less scary it has been. I realized I just really didn't want to play softball anymore and that's OK. I have realized I still really do want to perform for people and it is still way too scary. That's OK too. I'll work on it and maybe someday I'll get there. I have a group of friends that leave me no choice but to fully invest. I love them dearly and am working hard to be open with them about what's going on in my life. So far it is well worth the vulnerability that comes with it.
And while I'm at it, why not? How about I write down deepest thoughts on a blog so that friends and practical strangers alike can read them? The fat me is screaming, "But what if you gain it all back? It will be so humiliating! What if what you have to say is meaningless? People will think you're foolish." But a new voice inside is quietly encouraging me, whispering, "What if you don't gain it back? What if you become the confident woman God means for you to become. What if what you have to say is just for you? Better yet, what if it does mean something to someone else and it is the spark of change in their life?" So there it is, my fears all laid out on the page. Some days they seem less frightening, some days more. I guarantee you I will double think posting this on more that one occasion, so for the sake of my new found boldness, here I go before I change my mind...Publish!
I began this journey as part of a Biggest Loser contest at the gym we had newly joined. I won one of the months and received some personal training sessions as part of the prize. Our first session included an overall discussion of where I was and my goals. I told her my goal was loosing 60 lbs. (I was 40 lbs down at that point.) After all, 60 lbs. would make me the lowest I had been since college, and I had gritted my teeth just to hold on the that number. She looked at me and said, "You realize that that is still 25 lbs above the healthy range for your height, right?"
Shocked at her boldness, I stammered, "Uh, yeah, but I just want to be realistic... I've had three kids... 60 lbs. would be a big difference to me and my health... I think I need to hit that and maintain for a while just to get a feel for how that works."
She stared at me a minute with an amused grin on her face, and replied quite matter-of-factly, "No, I see no reason to stop short of a healthy goal. Your goal should be to loose about 80-85 lbs." She jotted it down on her note pad and then moved on, as if she had not just dropped a bombshell on me. When I got in the car I cried. I didn't just cry, I sobbed.
I pulled myself together and went home to tell my husband about this absurd idea the trainer had. He looked at me, without the grin, and said, "I agree. Why would you stop short? I know you can do it." I cried off and on for the next two days.
So why all the emotion? Why be so conflicted about another 20-25 lbs? I think it boils down to several things...
Fear of hard work... Plain and simple, I knew that meant real changes. Not just making sure I get out for a good walk now and then, but intentional, regular work outs. I tend to lean toward laziness when given the opportunity. I had always known it in the back of my mind, but had been unwilling to admit it to myself, much less to other people. I was going to have to admit to my laziness and give it up. As long as I am admitting unpleasant things, lets add gluttony to this point. I knew this meant giving up eating what I want, just because I want to. It means choosing the grilled chicken and rice when you want to order the Fettuccine Alfredo. (Let me take this opportunity to let you know there are some amazing grilled chicken dishes out there! Biaggi's and Olive Garden get my enthusiastic thumbs up.) I had to admit to myself I had been a glutton and give it up.
Fear of failure... I did not believe in myself. I did not think I could do it. I didn't think I could maintain it. (There is a part of me still struggling with that.) My trainer believed in me. My husband believed in me. I did not want to disappoint them. Moreover, I didn't want to disappoint myself or appear foolish when I failed. I realized I had given up on myself and needed to find a way to believe in myself again. Still working on it, but it is coming.
OK, here is the big one:
Fear of discovering who I am... This was the toughie. As a teen I was outgoing and friendly. Over the years I have become timid, afraid and shy. (My heart is palpitating and my stomach clenching as I admit this. I am also tearing up, which is how I know I hit the nail on the head.) What happened to me? I think life. You feel rejected and you close off a little bit of yourself. You fail and you protect yourself a little more. You get hurt and decide not to open that part of yourself again. Slowly, over time I have built a wall of protection around myself. (**Disclaimer**Don't get me wrong, I don't buy in to the TV show hype about "here is why I am fat and who I can blame." I was fat because I chose to live a life of laziness and gluttony. I am no longer fat because I admitted that, repented of those sins, and God has helped me change.)
Loosing all of the weight meant revealing the girl who doesn't want to be exposed and vulnerable. Without the weight I have lost all of my excuses. It is easy not to join in to the church softball game when you are fat. No one really expects you to. Now, I have to admit, I was good at softball once. I let that skill whither over time. Why don't I want to play? Fear of not being good enough, being laughed at? I used to love performing in front of people. Many of you don't know that once upon a time I wanted to be an actress. Why didn't I? My excuse has been that I was overweight and didn't want to be seen in front of that many people. Too embarrassing. I even have a hard time speaking up in front of a group of friends. What's my excuse now? I might just have to admit I fear being rejected a little too much. I also have a hard time opening up to people and getting really close to them. I don't share too much of myself too often. If I get too close I might get hurt. I found it much easier to be a wallflower when I was fat. Now I find myself with more confidence, little by little becoming more of the outgoing person I used to be. Along with that comes the chance of being hurt. Really scary stuff for me.
I don't think I knew at the time why I was so upset over the thought of truly not being fat. All I knew was that the thought of losing that much made me feel really scared and vulnerable. The closer I got the less scary it has been. I realized I just really didn't want to play softball anymore and that's OK. I have realized I still really do want to perform for people and it is still way too scary. That's OK too. I'll work on it and maybe someday I'll get there. I have a group of friends that leave me no choice but to fully invest. I love them dearly and am working hard to be open with them about what's going on in my life. So far it is well worth the vulnerability that comes with it.
And while I'm at it, why not? How about I write down deepest thoughts on a blog so that friends and practical strangers alike can read them? The fat me is screaming, "But what if you gain it all back? It will be so humiliating! What if what you have to say is meaningless? People will think you're foolish." But a new voice inside is quietly encouraging me, whispering, "What if you don't gain it back? What if you become the confident woman God means for you to become. What if what you have to say is just for you? Better yet, what if it does mean something to someone else and it is the spark of change in their life?" So there it is, my fears all laid out on the page. Some days they seem less frightening, some days more. I guarantee you I will double think posting this on more that one occasion, so for the sake of my new found boldness, here I go before I change my mind...Publish!
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Are we there yet?
If you are a parent you are quite familiar with this annoying question. However, I have come to realize that as adults, we ask this question just as often. The only difference is that we have the self control not to ask out loud in a repetitive manner.
I first became familiar with this question when I became married. "Well, I'm married, that makes me an adult, right?" I don't know about you, but deep in my heart I knew simply the act of putting on an adult title certainly did not magically bestow on me the maturity to call myself grown. The question came to visit again when I had kids. "I have a baby now, so why do I still feel like I am playing house? When do I feel like a 'real' parent?" As real as midnight feedings and screaming babies are, it took a few years. Once, I had to follow through on the threat of "If you are not dressed in 5 minutes we are getting in the car and leaving, PJ's or not." I remember thinking at that point that I definitely now felt like a parent. The question reappeared with homeschooling. When I started I felt as if I was pretending to play school. I would look at the long term homeschoolers and think, "When do I get there?" I can't even tell you when that happened, but somehow through longevity, maturity, and experience, I know I'm there.
Well, I find myself asking again. I have lost weight. I've achieved a number I wanted to reach. So when do I feel like a thin person? (You have no idea how hard it was for me to just use the "T" word. I don't really think I am thin, just at a healthy weight. But for lack of a better word for the opposite of fat, I'll use thin.) Right now I still feel like a fat girl who is pretending to be thin for a while. I keep wondering when the facade will wear off, and I will go back to bad eating habits, and quit the gym. I find this really scary, because unlike becoming a wife and mother, on this one, I could go back.
I have the checklist of what I have done to get here. Yep, changed to good, non-fad eating habits. Yes, I have a good balanced workout plan and schedule. Sure, I have changed my whole lifestyle. For the first time ever I even got rid of all my too-big clothes. And I mean all of them, I don't even have a set of one-size up. No safety net here. (OK, I kept my largest pair of jeans and one very large t-shirt, but as a reminder, not a backup.) So when will I get there? When will I feel like this is my life and not just a blip I am playing at? When will I stop fearing that this is just a faze instead of a permanent way of life?
I think I already know the answer. When you don't feel like an adult in your marriage, you still try to make adult choices for the good of the union. Even if you still feel like a child yourself, for the welfare of your kids, you make parent-like decisions. On the worst days when you feel like it is ridiculous to call yourself a teacher, you still get up and carry forth with lessons. Why, because it's the right thing to do. So, I don't feel like a thin girl. So what. I will carry on with the business of "acting" thin. I will get up, I will eat the right things, I will go to the gym. Even when I don't feel like it. Why? Because somewhere deep in my head I know that is who I am now. And some day, somehow, through longevity, maturity, and experience, I'll know I'm there.
I first became familiar with this question when I became married. "Well, I'm married, that makes me an adult, right?" I don't know about you, but deep in my heart I knew simply the act of putting on an adult title certainly did not magically bestow on me the maturity to call myself grown. The question came to visit again when I had kids. "I have a baby now, so why do I still feel like I am playing house? When do I feel like a 'real' parent?" As real as midnight feedings and screaming babies are, it took a few years. Once, I had to follow through on the threat of "If you are not dressed in 5 minutes we are getting in the car and leaving, PJ's or not." I remember thinking at that point that I definitely now felt like a parent. The question reappeared with homeschooling. When I started I felt as if I was pretending to play school. I would look at the long term homeschoolers and think, "When do I get there?" I can't even tell you when that happened, but somehow through longevity, maturity, and experience, I know I'm there.
Well, I find myself asking again. I have lost weight. I've achieved a number I wanted to reach. So when do I feel like a thin person? (You have no idea how hard it was for me to just use the "T" word. I don't really think I am thin, just at a healthy weight. But for lack of a better word for the opposite of fat, I'll use thin.) Right now I still feel like a fat girl who is pretending to be thin for a while. I keep wondering when the facade will wear off, and I will go back to bad eating habits, and quit the gym. I find this really scary, because unlike becoming a wife and mother, on this one, I could go back.
I have the checklist of what I have done to get here. Yep, changed to good, non-fad eating habits. Yes, I have a good balanced workout plan and schedule. Sure, I have changed my whole lifestyle. For the first time ever I even got rid of all my too-big clothes. And I mean all of them, I don't even have a set of one-size up. No safety net here. (OK, I kept my largest pair of jeans and one very large t-shirt, but as a reminder, not a backup.) So when will I get there? When will I feel like this is my life and not just a blip I am playing at? When will I stop fearing that this is just a faze instead of a permanent way of life?
I think I already know the answer. When you don't feel like an adult in your marriage, you still try to make adult choices for the good of the union. Even if you still feel like a child yourself, for the welfare of your kids, you make parent-like decisions. On the worst days when you feel like it is ridiculous to call yourself a teacher, you still get up and carry forth with lessons. Why, because it's the right thing to do. So, I don't feel like a thin girl. So what. I will carry on with the business of "acting" thin. I will get up, I will eat the right things, I will go to the gym. Even when I don't feel like it. Why? Because somewhere deep in my head I know that is who I am now. And some day, somehow, through longevity, maturity, and experience, I'll know I'm there.
Monday, September 13, 2010
The end of the beginning...
So, like millions of people I started on a weight loss journey 9 months ago. Like millions of people this was not the first time. Like every previous attempt, I just knew this time it would be different...
Once, I heard someone refer to people like me as another "another fat chick with new gym shoes." You know how it goes. You are so excited to get started that you go out and get all the necessary equipment. You get a new workout outfit, new gym shoes, scan all the websites for new weight loss information... The big day comes. Today, I am starting. Forget yesterday and all it's last minute chocolate and cheeseburgers. You spend a day or two being so proud of how well you are doing, a month or two resentful of everything you don't get to eat, and before you know it a year has gone by and the workout clothes you bought are now too small, and the gym shoes sit forgotten in the closet. I know, I've done it more than once.
I actually lost significant weight several years back. I had found the answer. High protein/low carb diet. It was fantastic. I ate all the bacon, cheese and fats I wanted, I just had to separate, or skip the carbs! I loved that one. I'll skip the embarrassing details and sum it up. Lost 50 lbs., barely exercised, when all of the sudden I could not get past a plateau, no matter what. Pound by pound the weight crept back on. In the end I gained 60 lbs. back. 10 lbs. greater than where I began. The sad part is, I really am smarter than that. I know there are no magic pills. We are just so easily persuaded to check our brains at the door when it comes to food.
So that brings us back to last Jan. I was checking in at my highest weight ever, and yes, that does include all three of my pregnancies. I was showing some signs of pre-diabetes. Everything hurt. I had pain in my feet so bad I limped and avoided walking whenever possible, my hips and back were killing me every morning when I got out of bed, and my knees were starting to scream every time I took the stairs. Reality suddenly sunk in. This was no longer an issue of vanity. I was at a crossroads that could affect my health for the rest of my life. This was no longer a game nor something that could wait for later. I needed to change things now or accept a future filled with permanent damage to my body, including diabetes, arthritis, and joint damage. Now, let me note that I realize there are many people with these issues that live very healthy lives and no choices they have made could have changed things. I am talking about me and my choices. I had lived a life filled with choices that put me at this precipice. It was a hard thing to acknowledge, but it was the truth. So what was I going to choose?
Being only 36, it seemed hard to image a life that only became more physically painful. That left me a lot more years of pain to endure. Or worse yet, maybe I would not have that many years after all. So, with much skepticism as to my ability to lose weight well, and no small amount of grieving over the foods I would have to leave behind, I began. This time I decided I would go with a more conventional mode of thinking. I was going to count calories and exercise. I would eat lots of veggies and choose good, real foods. What the heck, it seemed worth a try, and the "professionals" always were saying that's what really works. None of my other efforts had worked, so I was going to resort to what I always had dreaded. I set a modest goal of 50 lbs. I knew this would not get me anywhere close to a healthy weight for me, but I needed something obtainable and maintainable, and figured it had to be better that where I was.
Low and behold, I began to loose weight. Did I miss pizza and ice cream at first? You bet! But I was surprised to find that after the first few weeks of detoxing from all the sugar and bad foods that I craved, I wasn't really hungry. I was eating 4-5 meals a day. I had so many veggies stuffed in to my egg whites, that by the time I finished a meal there was no way I could be hungry. And my smoothies were so satisfying how could I possibly ask for more? I came to know that brown rice and quinoa were way more filling that pasta.
The gym was a harder adjustment. I credit God for the will to get there some days. But that, too, became satisfying after a time. I can honestly say I miss it now when more than two days go by with out a good work out. My "new" gym shoes are well used. Actually, I'm on my second pair.
So that is where I am joining you. It has been 9 months since this journey began. I have certainly made some mistakes, but I can also be proud of much of what I have done. I have lost 91 lbs. More importantly I am considered a healthy weight by every measure. I am solidly within the healthy range for my height, and have a body fat percentage that hovers between "healthy" and "fitness" levels. I never in my wildest dreams imagined that being here was a possibility for me. I thought that "better than where I was" was the most I could hope for. But I have actually reached a healthy weight goal.
So I find myself in unknown territory. I know how to loose weight. I've done it several times. This time it WAS different. I went all the way. I did it in a healthy way with improvements to my diet, counting calories, and good exercise, including cardio and muscle building. But what now? I have never maintained my weight and lifestyle. I have never just gone on living like this, day after day...year after year...forever. I am done "beginning" to lose weight. That chapter has ended. So this sets a new chapter of my life. I am excited to get it in writing and see what it holds, maybe look back now and then and examine how I came to this place. Maybe someone will join me, maybe this is a journey for only God and I. Either way, here it goes...
Once, I heard someone refer to people like me as another "another fat chick with new gym shoes." You know how it goes. You are so excited to get started that you go out and get all the necessary equipment. You get a new workout outfit, new gym shoes, scan all the websites for new weight loss information... The big day comes. Today, I am starting. Forget yesterday and all it's last minute chocolate and cheeseburgers. You spend a day or two being so proud of how well you are doing, a month or two resentful of everything you don't get to eat, and before you know it a year has gone by and the workout clothes you bought are now too small, and the gym shoes sit forgotten in the closet. I know, I've done it more than once.
I actually lost significant weight several years back. I had found the answer. High protein/low carb diet. It was fantastic. I ate all the bacon, cheese and fats I wanted, I just had to separate, or skip the carbs! I loved that one. I'll skip the embarrassing details and sum it up. Lost 50 lbs., barely exercised, when all of the sudden I could not get past a plateau, no matter what. Pound by pound the weight crept back on. In the end I gained 60 lbs. back. 10 lbs. greater than where I began. The sad part is, I really am smarter than that. I know there are no magic pills. We are just so easily persuaded to check our brains at the door when it comes to food.
So that brings us back to last Jan. I was checking in at my highest weight ever, and yes, that does include all three of my pregnancies. I was showing some signs of pre-diabetes. Everything hurt. I had pain in my feet so bad I limped and avoided walking whenever possible, my hips and back were killing me every morning when I got out of bed, and my knees were starting to scream every time I took the stairs. Reality suddenly sunk in. This was no longer an issue of vanity. I was at a crossroads that could affect my health for the rest of my life. This was no longer a game nor something that could wait for later. I needed to change things now or accept a future filled with permanent damage to my body, including diabetes, arthritis, and joint damage. Now, let me note that I realize there are many people with these issues that live very healthy lives and no choices they have made could have changed things. I am talking about me and my choices. I had lived a life filled with choices that put me at this precipice. It was a hard thing to acknowledge, but it was the truth. So what was I going to choose?
Being only 36, it seemed hard to image a life that only became more physically painful. That left me a lot more years of pain to endure. Or worse yet, maybe I would not have that many years after all. So, with much skepticism as to my ability to lose weight well, and no small amount of grieving over the foods I would have to leave behind, I began. This time I decided I would go with a more conventional mode of thinking. I was going to count calories and exercise. I would eat lots of veggies and choose good, real foods. What the heck, it seemed worth a try, and the "professionals" always were saying that's what really works. None of my other efforts had worked, so I was going to resort to what I always had dreaded. I set a modest goal of 50 lbs. I knew this would not get me anywhere close to a healthy weight for me, but I needed something obtainable and maintainable, and figured it had to be better that where I was.
Low and behold, I began to loose weight. Did I miss pizza and ice cream at first? You bet! But I was surprised to find that after the first few weeks of detoxing from all the sugar and bad foods that I craved, I wasn't really hungry. I was eating 4-5 meals a day. I had so many veggies stuffed in to my egg whites, that by the time I finished a meal there was no way I could be hungry. And my smoothies were so satisfying how could I possibly ask for more? I came to know that brown rice and quinoa were way more filling that pasta.
The gym was a harder adjustment. I credit God for the will to get there some days. But that, too, became satisfying after a time. I can honestly say I miss it now when more than two days go by with out a good work out. My "new" gym shoes are well used. Actually, I'm on my second pair.
So that is where I am joining you. It has been 9 months since this journey began. I have certainly made some mistakes, but I can also be proud of much of what I have done. I have lost 91 lbs. More importantly I am considered a healthy weight by every measure. I am solidly within the healthy range for my height, and have a body fat percentage that hovers between "healthy" and "fitness" levels. I never in my wildest dreams imagined that being here was a possibility for me. I thought that "better than where I was" was the most I could hope for. But I have actually reached a healthy weight goal.
So I find myself in unknown territory. I know how to loose weight. I've done it several times. This time it WAS different. I went all the way. I did it in a healthy way with improvements to my diet, counting calories, and good exercise, including cardio and muscle building. But what now? I have never maintained my weight and lifestyle. I have never just gone on living like this, day after day...year after year...forever. I am done "beginning" to lose weight. That chapter has ended. So this sets a new chapter of my life. I am excited to get it in writing and see what it holds, maybe look back now and then and examine how I came to this place. Maybe someone will join me, maybe this is a journey for only God and I. Either way, here it goes...
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