Like most people I struggle with my weight, I have for most of my life. That’s the joy of being a ‘fluffy’ person (yes someone called me fluffy as a child. I suppose it was kinder than pudgy) in an athletic family. Basketball, volleyball, baseball, they were all good at them and enjoyed them. Me, I preferred model UN and reading to organized sports. If someone would have introduced me to kickboxing or Krav Maga it would have been different, team sports are so not my thing. I wasn’t fat, or really terribly overweight but I was soft and unathletic, add in the fact that I developed early and that made me really self conscious. People who meant well made comments that stung rather than encouraged and that is when my struggle with food really started. I would eat in secret, binge on sweets, ate a lot of processed crap and was fairly unhealthy.
If I could go back and talk to that girl I would slap her upside the head. She isn’t fat, she is beautiful and strong and soft but there is nothing wrong with that. I would have told her that there is a whole world of activities out there to try, that you’ll love. I would tell her about yoga, swimming, boxing, and all the things that you’ve learned about in the years since that you want to do, but are too self conscious to try.
After high school I went into the Air Force and for the first time I HAD to run. Literally! I hated it, I still hate running, it is tied up in all kinds of anxiety for me now! But I ran, and ran, and ran. In Texas. In July. Add in a very strict diet and stress and I lost about 50 pounds that summer. It was insane. For the first time in my life I was ‘skinny’ I was fascinated with this new body of mine. But when I went home I didn’t appreciate it, I let it go, I went back to my old habits and I gained back everything I had lost, fast, plus more.
I was in a relationship and then married and got comfortable and ate a lot. I tried various diets, various attempts at working out. But nothing stuck. I got more and more unhappy with my body. Every time I tried I would work hard I would put my everything into it, but notice little to no difference. It took a long time to realize my PCOS was affecting my weight and making it harder to lose. Fertility treatments caused my body to freak out even more and I gained even more weight.
Two years ago I turned a page, at least related to my diet. I quit dieting. I realized it was stupid, and unhealthy and just plain bad. I started eating a whole foods diet, real food. I had always loved to cook and now I was using those skills to make nutrient dense meals. I slipped up occasionally (still do, no one is perfect) but I was definitely on the right track. The problem was my lack of working out. I would try it in fits and starts, we had a great rec center near by with awesome classes and I loved that. But I would quickly lose enthusiasm. Now here I am, at the highest weight I’ve ever been and I hate it.
I’m working on it. I started over again today. I used my gym membership for the first time in a couple months and took Dustin’s sister. We’re doing it together, encouraging each other, threatening and pushing each other if need be. I’ve worked on my diet and eat healthy, but now I need to work on portion control. I’ve downloaded the Myfitnesspal app to track calories, I’ve run two 5k’s this year (for someone who doesn’t like to run I seem to be doing it a lot) and I am feeling good right now after doing a 45 minute work out. We will be there three days a week, so keep your fingers crossed this sticks!