Body Fat

This weekend went by far too fast, as they mostly all do. I mean, as exciting as it is to not have to work, why do those 8 hours fly by compared to the horrific reality of 8 hours behind a desk? Not fair. So this weekend was in fact a pretty good one for me because I got to spend it at my second home; the gym.

Here’s the thing my friends, one can all me obsessive which is ENTIRELY true and one can say that I have no other real life if I want to spend that much time at the gym, and that might also be true. However, let me clarify that I choose to spend my time there because I really love it that much. I could make different choices in my life. I could hang out with my sisters or other family members. I made the choice to go to the gym because I love it that much. Also please note that I am not neglecting other parts of my life either by making this choice. It’s simply that; a choice I have made for my own happiness. The gym makes me happy. As Elle Woods said in Legally Blonde, Exercise gives you endorphins. Endorphins make you happy. (And happy people just don’t shoot their husbands)…. Not relevant at this moment but I was just finishing out the quote. Basically exercise makes you happy. And yes, by gosh, it does.

Saturday morning I met with my trainer to do my measurements. Is anyone out there at all familiar with body fat percentages? I ask this because I am honestly not even a little bit. For 10 years I could tell you all about the scale and what mine has done but I have never taken a body fat percentage measurement until I joined the gym. No joke. When I walked into the gym my first measurement told me I was 27.7% body fat. I was like okay. Sure. I had no idea what that meant. I still don’t really. All I know is that is where I was at when I weighed 140 pounds and joined the gym. After months and months of running. She told me it was in the healthy range. That’s all that really matter too much to me. Consequently I have lost body fat as my muscles have grown. On Saturday I was 21% body fat. Which means in a little less than 3 months I lost 6.7% body fat. Again, I have to be honest and say that I have no idea what this means. I was like okay. Sure. 6.7% doesn’t seem like a crazy amount to me, but that’s because I have no basis of comparison; at ALL. I know that it’s pretty hard for women to get really really lean. I know that 15-18% is where a lot of top athletes are. I know body builder women tend to come in at around 8-10% but that is for a short period of time in competition prep. I know that women start to have not enough body fat to have children at around 14%. These are things I know.

In terms of rate of body fat loss, I am completely oblivious. My trainer of course told me that this was a crazy impressive amount to lose in 3 months so I will have to take her word for it. Somewhere at some point I heard that if you are REALLY good and active and work at it, a good rate would be 1% a month. I don’t know if that’s true. Just about everything else on me has stayed relatively consistent. Here are my official measurements for the last 3 months.



I also kind of realize that being 21% body fat means that I probably won’t have a lot of room to go in terms of losing additional body fat either. Sure, I think I can get it down some more but how much more? I don’t honestly know. When it sends that little electronic pulse to measure your fat, how does lose skin get accounted? I mean, I have lots of lose stomach and thigh skin that has got to get accounted for somewhere and that shit is not going away.

Now I am no math person. I’m not stupid either, but not a mathematician by any means. So in 3 months if I lost 6.7% body fat, let me run the numbers here. Bear with me. I started at 142 pounds so at 27.7 body fat that means I was 39.33 pounds of fat. If I am now 135 pounds and 21% body fat that means I am 28.35 pounds of fat. So I guess then that means I actually netted a result of 10.98 okay almost 11 pounds lost of body fat. I only lost 7 pounds but I converted the other stuff into muscle instead of fat. Not too bad. So my 135 frame carries around 28.35 pounds of fat. I just read that essential fat for women is 8-10% meaning that you cannot go below that because this is the amount of our bones and other tissues and organs. This means I would no matter what have to carry around 11-13 pounds of fat that is essential fats leaving me with 17.35-15.35 pounds of fat on my frame that would be extra or losable. Now that doesn’t seem like a lot at all. When I break the numbers down it seems like I am pretty dang lean as I am.

This is what I just read about body fat. That basically if you are in the 20-22% range (me right now! Right in the middle)….

This body fat percentage is usually in the “fit” category of most body fat charts and is typical of many female athletes. Some definition in the abs is apparent, there is body fat on the arms and legs, but it’s not too pronounced. There is minimal, but some separation between muscles.

Body fat percentages between 15-18% is considered a very low body fat for women. Many bikini and fitness models reach this body fat level and some may not be able to menstruate. And then the 10-13% range is extremely low and typical of bodybuilders. This level is safe for women who will be unable to menstruate. So basically they are saying that between 15-18% you start to run the risk of fucking with your body’s natural cycle but at 13% you have pretty much turned off your organs. Not enough fat. Interesting. So basically, I am fit according to my body fat percentage.

Why is it that I still have a ridiculously hard time thinking I am fit? I mean, yeah, I know I’m fit but like female athlete fit… nah… I don’t know what it is about our mental state that doesn’t allow for former fat girls to wrap our heads around being worthy of things. I have to be honest, I think it’s because I still have so much loose skin in places that it mentally prevents me from seeing myself as an athlete. Or considering that I am “fit”. How can I be a fit girl with so much loose skin in areas? Admitingly it’s getting much better. Things are getting tighter but still, loose skin abounds.

This is what I am promising to you guys. My 1 year anniversary is coming up in a few weeks. Holy shit! And I have been thinking about commemorating the anniversary in some way. What I am promising is this, I am going to take pictures of my loose skin, the embarrassing truth about stomach flap of skin and I’m going to show you guys because that is the reality. Also because I hope in 9 more months, after a year of strength training, that it will go down some. I already feel like it has. I want this blog to document the truth about what is really happening and not just the glossy version. Nothing is EVER photoshop’d over. I know how to touch shit up in Photoshop, but I have not ever and will NEVER do that. This is the truth. This is what is really happening to me and my body and I have no desire to ever lie about it. This is the harsh realities of what losing and gaining weight will do to your body over time. It’s also the proof that you CAN lose 80 plus pounds and look pretty good. Our bodies are amazing things.

So you see what can be done in literally 3 months’ time? And if you can’t afford personal training, which is expensive and even I struggle with, you can do it on your own. Most ALL of this was done on my own. I have taken what I have learned and I put in the time. And let’s be honest ¾ of it is from taking classes at the gym. Those I’m pretty sure are included in most gym memberships.

I did something very brave for myself, I went ahead and posted pictures of myself on Facebook. Photos of me in a sports bra flexing. It felt very narcissistic and completely out of character for me. Not out of character for twitter, as that is my vain place, but on Facebook I like to keep it more private. I felt a little silly doing it, but I also was prepping for my gym member of the month profile which is going to come out and be posted on Facebook so I kind of wanted it out there already. Plus honestly I am proud of my hard work. I can see a difference. I am not sure I feel like an athlete or “fit” as they say but I guess I will take 21% body fat and run with it.

I wonder where I can actually get it all to. Honestly I have no desire to be one of those muscle builder women. I think they are gross. I love the muscles I am forming and this month I am falling in love with my back. I like seeing the muscles in my back. It’s way cool. I put in the work though. I put in a ton of work. Actually you guys know how much crazy work I put in. Because I love it. It is so rewarding and satisfying to me. That is what my trainer told me, that I actually live it. I take what the trainers say to me, I listen, and I go out and apply it myself. That I work really hard. Speaking of personal training, I have my session tonight actually. Time for more torture that I ultimately love. Obviously.

So seriously guys, who knew? Who knew 3 months ago, before I went to Maui and I was toying with the idea of going to the gym that I would love it this much? Who knew that I would fall in love with strength training so much and see such amazing results? (Wait, I have one friend T, who pretty much told me this for months prior, love you, cause I guess you knew didn’t you?) I certainly didn’t know or believe it. I shake my head now because I was so scared to join the gym. I was so scared to give up my daily running. I was afraid I’d gain the weight back if I didn’t run every day. I was afraid my endurance would fall to the way side. I was afraid I would not like the results. 3 months later and are you fucking kidding me? If I cover up my head in photos and just look at my body I swear to you I would not believe that body was mine. It’s not great, it’s not perfect, but holy shit I don’t believe it’s me.

I found some photos from the last time I was really into fitness and health and got down to like 130 pounds, or rather got down to 125 pounds. I took some photos and my body did not look like this at all. Hmm… so crazy to me. That is part of what I am working on for my 1 year anniversary. I am going to try and present a photo extravaganza if you will of my progress over time and changes. It’s going to be fun.

Anyhow, here are the photos I took yesterday that I bravely or stupidly put on Facebook. So here you go, this is muscle and progress and 21% body fat.

Health Issues

Friday is here. And I am more than happy that it is finally upon us. Like seriously I am excited that it’s Friday despite having no real plans for the entire weekend. Actually that is slightly a lie. I have plans and they consist of something that makes me VERY happy. Wait for it, bet you guessed it, yes, I plan on spending a few hours both Saturday and Sunday at my beloved gym. It is sickening how exciting that is to me. I can’t tell you honestly how thrilled and at peace I am and ready for a few days of no plans other than heading to the gym and doing what I want.

Here is the deal; I have exercised for the last 6 days in a row. Yup. So I must force myself to take a break tonight. I’d like to exercise but I do believe our bodies deserve one rest day but mainly because I do entirely plan on spending stupid amounts of time at the gym on Saturday and Sunday I feel like it’s probably best to actually give my body the rest today as well. To gear it up for a great workout tomorrow etc. That means tonight will be difficult mentally because I won’t have my high of the gym to push me thru. I am strongly considering going to Red Lobster. They have the unlimited shrimp feast right now and they have garlic grilled shrimp which is so ridiculously healthy that it’s not funny. And it’s unlimited :) So you know; I might just have to eat like 10 skewers of it or something like that. It’s a possibility; that’s all I’m saying. Nothing concrete or definite at this moment, just something I’m kicking around in my head.

Of course tomorrow morning before 9 AM turbo kick I am meeting with my trainer at the gym to do my measurements to submit for my member of the month profile. I’m a little nervous because I honestly don’t feel like I am worthy. I guess that’s what it is. I feel like it’s only been 3 months so while my results are amazing and great they are not as great as I know it’s going to be in 6 months’ time, etc. Oh well, I should just shut up and accept the honor as it is. I wrote out my “story” already and gave it to her. She told me it made her cry. I guess that is a good thing. It’s not that particularly tear-inducing but I guess when you are the trainer and one of your clients has made such good progress and then throws in a little sap on top of it, it might bring on tears…. Of course when it gets published next month you all will see it. Hell, I’ll post a big old version of it right here on this page of course and it will be on my Facebook page as well. I am friends with a lot of you guys on Facebook already so you will see it. If I’m not friends with you on Facebook or twitter please feel free to add me at any point because I love actually connecting with all of you guys. It is so awesome to actually see my online friends and be part of their lives as well; as much as possible via Facebook and twitter that is.

Actually, if I’m being honest, I feel so much closer to so many of my online friends than I do people in my real life. Maybe that’s because I don’t have real friends. Hum… that might be it. But I’m constantly blown away by the level of my feelings for some of these strangers who mean the world to me. I would jump on a plane and do anything I could for some of them and this is without ever having met them in person because I adore them that much. Maybe I’m one of those horrible catfish stories where I put all this belief and faith into another person but with some people I just know the connection is real and I know they are telling the truth about themselves because honestly who is going to lie about struggling with their weight and all this bullshit we deal with? Can you tell I love Catfish the TV show. Amazing. But crazy because who does that? Who actually still lies about their identity on the internet these days? Apparently a ton of people actually. Who knew? I kind of shake my head because I would be the easiest person in the world to confirm the identity of, which is also why I would never be a catfish on their side because I wouldn’t ever talk to someone who wasn’t as easily identifiable and if they didn’t want to meet me I’d be like done, over. Of course I’m also not looking for love via Facebook etc. I am referring to friendships with real women who have no reason to lie about themselves to being with.

Obviously I have no criteria at all for the people I talk to online. You can be anything you are and I’m cool with that as long as you are who you say you are I guess. I don’t lie about myself so I would expect the same in return. Not that I think anyone is lying. Geesh. What you see here is pretty much what you get with me. Insecurities and all. This is pretty much the realest version of me in existence which is probably why I feel like these relationships with the online world are so important because these are the people who know the real me.

If you check out my Facebook page it’s not as if there is tons of mention of my health and fitness life. Slowly but surely these days its creped a little more in but it’s not as if people would know I’m a health nut or spend my days at the gym or dream about being at the gym. There is clearly no mention of this blog because I don’t want my “real” acquaintances to find this blog. That’s just too damned weird. Now Twitter is another story, move over batman, I am the queen of the selfie photo and it’s my place to express my neurotic obsession with health and fitness and food and my Victoria Secret workout wardrobe. I don’t care one bit that its dominated by my true personality, because there is no one but my 1 sister I guess who is actually my friend on twitter that I know in real life. I don’t mind my immediate family reading this crap, in fact they all know about this blog but I am certain do not read it because they could care less about my mindless dribble. They get enough of it in real life. Maybe my sisters read it from time to time, but I highly doubt it. They have all their own shit to worry about and are not that into my narcissistic hobby.

My family is pretty supportive. We have our bouts of not understanding or thinking I’m too obsessive but that hasn’t happened this time around because of the amazing differences of this time around. Two of my sisters have actually taken the plunge and have been doing metafast for a couple months. It is hella expensive actually. And you have to eat really crappy food but it’s a jump start for people who need to lose a lot of weight I guess. I love them to death so will support anything that they want to do that is focused on being healthier. Long term we all know it’s not sustainable but they just want to get a jump on the weight loss to keep them motivated. Anything is better than nothing.

My grandma has been in the hospital for a week with a bunch of breathing problems. Yes, she’s old. Yes she has a couple infections, etc. But honestly I personally think that her weight has got to be a huge factor as well. If she didn’t weigh like 450 pounds she probably could breathe better all on her own and it would make the infections easier to fight off. Basically it’s just sad because there is no way our health doesn’t play a major role in the aging process. It is scary and I keep looking at my mom when she talks about her mom and I’m like, see this is why what you are doing is so important. You need to be healthy. Of course mom is working on it so I can say that to her. But it scares me. I don’t want my mom, whom I adore, to end up with complications because of her health. Getting older already poses enough challenges without adding in poor health to the mix. For that matter I don’t want any of my sisters to be in the same boat eventually either. This is why it is so important that we all get a handle on this now while we still can.

I am very proud of my mom. She decided a year ago to change and she is a different person today than she was back then as well. She is much healthier. I just hope my sisters can find that same desire as well. I actually told mom the other day that this time I am sticking to this for the rest of my life, that this is it for me. I’ve figured it out, you know all the things I’ve said on here and with that means that I am probably going to never give up trying to get my sisters to be healthier. I don’t push them or bagger them but I try to encourage them whenever possible. I love them all so much and simply want them to be healthy. I don’t care if they are skinny or thin or anything like that. I just want them to be healthy. I want them to not have medical problems related to their weight. I don’t think that is asking too much. As I explore a life of fitness and health it would be impossible for me to not try and pass on some of my knowledge to them. It’s such a slippery slope because unless you want to hear the information you will just feel pressured. I try and not pressure.

Anyway, I think that’s about it for me for the day. I have to go out and run some work errands now. Got to pick up a bunch of stuff and run it up to Hillsboro to a jobsite. It’s basically an hour drive or so. Good times. Have a great weekend!

Inner Demons

Today I am struggling with my inner demons, fighting with them really. We all have them. Some days we are on top of the world (see the past couple posts for that) and some days we have moments of weakness and doubt (re: today). I’ve actually been thinking about this post since 3 AM when I awoke and had to pee and consequently could not return to sleep successfully for far too long. I did eventually make it back to slumber land but not before formulating part of this entry in my head.

This is what happened at a little past 3 AM this morning. My stomach was grumbling at me, as in it was hungry and asking me to feed it. I was instantly mad. Yes, I was mad at my body. Mad because I had eaten a sufficient amount of food already. I truly had. I had a great healthy dinner even at like 8 PM. I had fresh chicken breast, corn on the cob, a plain baked potato and bread. I followed that up with a quest bar for dessert and then a little while later when my sweet tooth was nagging at me I had 2 Lindt White Chocolate truffles. So yes, I am eating. A significant amount of food so I was mad that at 3 AM I was hungry. Oh, not really mad exactly just frustrated.

I am frustrated because with all this extra strength training comes this hunger that I have not experienced probably ever. Mostly I only ever ate out of boredom or when I was hungry but I overate to full. I never experienced a constant hunger. And then I am frustrated because I am feeding it all the things I should be and I’m still hungry. Okay, I’m not going to lie to you guys. I might lie to people in real life but this is the place where I come to confess my sins. This is my Catholic School Girl Confessional Booth. I am mostly frustrated because I feel like I have zero willpower and I feel like I am losing control and we all know this is a lot about control. I have not been happy with the route I’ve been taking lately. I feel like I have not been nearly as dialed in with my eating. I have not been entirely proud of all my food choices. I am no slacker when it comes to physical activity but my food has always been a point of contention. Especially when I see statistics and completely believe that this whole process is like 70-90 percent about nutrition and only 30-10 percent exercise. It’s not good when the nutrition portion is bothering you.

Of course in the wee hours of the dead of night aside from feeling frustration over my food choice and my growling stomach I tried to consider what was at the core of my frustration. Was I really this upset about being hungry? No, not really. What was eating at me? These are much harder concepts to fully evaluate. It occurred to me after another night at the gym that I think I’m slightly disillusioned with my body.

Let me explain. I do love me and all the progress I have made. I love the changes that are occurring in my body. I am proud of everything I have done. I really am. BUT… because there is always a but in life, I am also fundamentally frustrated about the realities of the situation. No matter what I do, no matter how hard I work or how much effort I put in at the age of 34 there is irreversible damage done to my body. I can work my ass off but I cannot get rid of my stomach or my thighs, that extra skin and sag. And yes my arms are getting strong and I notice lots of strength in there, there is still a drop of saggy skin on my lower arms that drives me crazy.

In fact, while exercising in the group fitness room and doing Turbo kick, I am throwing these punches around and all I notice is the giggle of the lower arm that won’t go away. And at this point, for whatever reason it just pisses me off. It pisses me off that I’ve worked this hard and I will never really be able to get it all right.

And then something else happens. That ugly word we call jealousy. Yup, it starts to creep into my head. It is not fair to compare any part of yourself to anyone else. You really are only doing yourself a huge injustice, I know this. But how do you turn off a crazy overactive brain? How do you breach the fine line between admiration and jealousy? It’s a very slippery slope. I wish it wasn’t. I wish I could just admire someone and be inspired and not have the insecurities creep in that lead to jealousy. For the most part I have been able to maintain things in positive land. Not let it go there but then on days when your body chemistry is off or you’re feeling a little down about life it’s easy for your brain to go to that land.

Last night I was thinking about all the young women who frequent the classes at my gym, the trainers included. And I had a thought which was pure weakness driven. “It’s not fair. They have never known what it’s like to struggle. They have perfect bodies and don’t have to worry about drooping skin as a result of the damage they’ve done to their bodies. It’s not fair that I can work every bit as hard as most of them and never get the same result.”

I was mad. I was sad. If you’ve never actually had to struggle with weight than there really is no way to really understand. Both the trainers leading the classes last night are wonderful and I love them to death but they are perfect. I am beyond certain that there is something about themselves that they don’t love because they are women after all, but they have no drooping skin. They have flat stomachs; they have shapely legs that don’t have giggly bits hanging out from under shorts so that they can actually wear little shorts. You will NEVER catch me in a pair of spandex shorts at the gym. I have inner thigh skin/fat giggle that would leave me insecure in a ridiculous way. I don’t wish them my pain, I don’t. But I also think life is such a bitch that I was given this life where I can have every bit as much passion or drive and work my butt off and still come up short.

I found myself envious of what it must be like to have lived a life where perhaps you weren’t always so interested in health and fitness but you also didn’t do any damage to your body that you can’t undo. The trainers are one thing but then there is a certain group of gym girls who are actually training to do “shows” and on the weekends on occasion they are in the group fitness room practicing their poses in bikinis and I want to hurl. Not because they don’t look good. They look really good, but I want to hurl because it makes me so sad. I cannot ever be that. Nothing on me will ever be tight and firm. Perhaps that is also a sign of my age. These girls I’m talking about have got to be in their early twenties. I am 34 now so perhaps my body wouldn’t be that anyway.

I’m just having a struggle jealous moment. An epic fail if you will. I know I should be much more grateful for the reality that I could lose 80 plus pounds and have my body look as good as it does. I am lucky I can feel comfortable enough wearing sleeveless tops and not feel too self-conscious about my arms. More importantly I am grateful for all that my body is actually capable of. The physical demands that I put on it and it allows me to do. I do not take that for granted.

It’s just hard that some people are blessed in the areas you want to be blessed in. I know that ultimately means they are probably not as lucky in other areas as no one is perfect. The grass is always greener on the other side. I am not perfect. I struggle. I have days where I fight very hard with my inner demons. Let’s face it; I would never end up 220 pounds if I didn’t have very profound inner demons that influence my life. I’m working on them. I am always working on them actually. In the end I won’t let this be a road block. I will pick myself up and keep going because that’s just what I do.

Oddly Happy

Today I am smiling. I woke up well tired of course and not wanting to get out of bed because that is pretty much how I wake up every single morning but after that wore off, I found myself in an exceptional mood. This strikes me as quite odd considering I only had a so/so night in terms of physical activity. I only had a so/so night in terms of doing what I wanted. I actually had a pretty crappy night in terms of food choices but all of that doesn’t matter because today I am smiling and happy. That my friends is progress. Progress because I can have a shitty eating night, well really, a shitty eating couple days and still feel like smiling and be comfortable and happy with myself.

Maybe it’s because today I put on this new Victoria Secret bra that is just the height of sexy. Here it is, http://www.victoriassecret.com/bras/very-sexy/long-line-push-up-balconet-bra-very-sexy?ProductID=141195&CatalogueType=OLS, I’m wearing it in the berry color and it is amazing. Not that anyone knows because hello it’s under my clothes, but for some reason it is just making me happy. I feel like a dirty girl and some days I think its okay to feel sexy. In fact I loved it so much I had to go ahead and order it in the black version as well. I am a complete Victoria Secret snob or whore or addict or whatever word you want to call it. But if something makes you feel good you just want to do it and that is what Victoria Secret does for me. It gives me that extra little bit of self-confidence. Plus I actually do love that their models are generally not stick thin but more curvaceous.

Anyhow. Last night I rushed to the gym as quickly as I could so that I could do a quick mile run before heading into a 5:30 class. This class was hard last night, which was good considering I had a limited amount of time at the gym. Afterwards I did about 15 minutes tops of some arm stuff and then called it quits to head to my therapy appointment. Yup, I actually really liked her. Like a lot. So that is good. It seems like continual therapy would be a lot of work but it seems like something that at this point is necessary and good so away we go.

I ended up eating like a ridiculous amount of less than stellar food choices last night. Buffalo wings much? But it doesn’t even phase me today because I’m like, look, you ate it, your body still looks the same this morning and you are going to the gym today so this is life. This is what it is supposed to be. Of course I only feel this way because I have managed to successfully avoid any urge to constantly weigh myself. I have made peace with a scale that has tormented me for 10 years. We have a good understanding these days. I will stay away from her and she won’t fuck with my brain. It’s a good balance. Sure, I know eventually I need her to do a double check but who needs the daily grind of it all, hell I don’t even need the weekly grind of it all. I truly feel like a once a month check in is probably good enough so long as I live the rest of my life the way I know I should be. If I keep going to the gym and being healthy like 90% of the time then there is no point in getting on the scale. Who is this girl?

So I’ve also been thinking a lot about October 2013, and my 1 year anniversary that is coming up in a couple weeks. I find it so fitting that everything suddenly is falling into place. Like my half marathon being in 2 weeks, close to the anniversary date and then it occurred to me this morning that the gym is making me member of the month next month, October and it will be my 1 year anniversary as well. It’s like it was somehow meant to be.

I’ve been thinking about the best way for me to celebrate the occasion. On the 1 year anniversary of the LAST time I will ever do this. My last 1 year anniversary. From here on out, it only goes up in duration of anniversaries. I am excited for my 1 year anniversary. It seems odd to be excited but I feel like it’s a milestone that makes me proud. My inner fighter is really remarkably strong. Even I am amazed at times by how much I am willing to fight for the things I want. I guess that is both good and bad. Here is an entry I wrote on December 13, 2012…. So like 9 months ago…

“What I will say is that although I am not the same person now, inside of me ALWAYS has lived a fighter. Someone who will not quit no matter the circumstances. Someone who will achieve anything that I actually decide to do. That is where I am at right now. I will achieve this. I am not even worried or thinking that I won’t. 10 weeks, 27.7 pounds. I am not stopping now. I completely seriously am proud of the fact that I have done this all without compromising myself. Without once peeking on the scale. I weigh in once a week period. I don’t obsessively write my food down. I eat breakfast and lunch and dinner and run. Wash, rinse, repeat”.

I love that I knew even then that I was going to do this. That even having only been 27.7 pounds down, so I guess that means I weighed 192.3 pounds when I wrote those words, I KNEW I would achieve this. And I know I wasn’t worried because honestly I never felt worried a single day that I wouldn’t achieve my goals. I have always trusted my ability to achieve the things I decide to do. And even back then I knew this time was really finally different. Being only 10 weeks in, I was already doing it completely different than I had ever done it. I had the feeling all along this time around that this was going to be the last time. I really did somehow know this was it for me. I of course had a hard time really completely trusting it for a while or even sharing it without reservation because I had said that before. And yet, in my heart, this is it.

In order to get something we’ve never gotten we must do something we’ve never done. So much of what I have done this time around is amazingly different than any other time. From the very beginning I just felt it to my core. And then look at me now, almost 1 year late getting the results I’ve never gotten before. AMAZING!

I think for my 1 year anniversary I am going to have to have my mom take some photos of me. Like real full angle photos, stomach, back, etc. You know those kind that no amount of holding a camera up in the mirror can capture the true progress. The kind that you are mostly embarrassed to ever ask anyone to take of you, but I will probably have to do that. I will also have to probably try and dig deep back in to the photo archives of my life and find some new “old” photos. I know that more must exist out there that I have successfully avoided.

Ooh, I just looked at the calendar and my official first day of my recommitment was October 5 and of course October 5 of this year is a Saturday. This is nice because that means I probably can actually do something to commemorate the day. Something active and healthy of course. Something that I could not have done a year ago. I’m going to have to think about that one a little.

I feel like things are heading in the right direction. I mean, generally in my life. I do not have all the answers of course but I am starting to put the pieces of the puzzle together. I know I completely find my strength in health and wellness. When I let that go, everything else in my life starts to fall apart. I know that I have to keep health and wellness in the forefront of my life not because I want to be thin or pretty but because I want to FEEL happy and balanced. Because it truly gives me strength and self-worth that I need to live the best possible version of my life.

Can I just say that it is so amazing to me that I am so much braver in my everyday life when I feel good about myself. I am more willing to take chances and do things that scare me. When I am not worried about how I look or how other people view me I am willing to go out on a limb, both figuratively and literally at times. It is the most amazing thing in the world to not be afraid to do something you’ve always wanted to do. To quit doubting that certain things are beyond your reach and only belong to “others”. There is nothing that is beyond you if you really want it. If this past year has taught me anything it’s that you have to work for the things you want but that anything is achievable if you really want it bad enough. You are worth it. It is worth the fight.

If you can’t tell my optimism is at a high today for some reason. I have no good reason to be this happy or optimistic but I just am. Right now I feel like I just want to bottle up some of these happy feelings to bring out on the less than stellar days and of course to share with all the wonderful women in my life who struggle. I want other people to believe in themselves and learn to love themselves and their bodies as much as I have come to terms with my own. I know how hard this is. I know how crazy hard it is to love yourself and learn to love your body. Believe me, no one will ever understand or get it more than me. But I am proof that it is possible. Miracles happen all the time and even if you’ve failed a million times one day it might just work. For no apparent reason one day it might finally just click and you’ll blink and wake up a year later and you might just have most everything you ever wanted.

60 seconds

I am moving incredibly slow this morning for some reason. Oh wait, it’s because I’m tired. Yup. Exhaustion will do that. At least it’s the good kind of exhaustion. The best kind really. It’s the exhaustion brought on from sore. I did not want to go to the gym last night all that much. I guess having killer 2 plus hour workouts on Saturday and Sunday not so shockingly left me a little mentally if not physically fatigued. But that didn’t stop me of course. Plus Monday nights are my personal training so I headed to the gym.

I of course felt much better once I started. I always do :) Of course my trainer told me that I was going to die tonight and she was going to have to practice her CPR skills. HA. Love it when you are greeted to such words. Do you think perhaps she likes to physically make me work? Thank God it’s only 30 minutes because I am certain I could not stand much longer of a torture session.

So yeah, it was HARD. It was one of the best workouts I’ve had in personal training actually. I loved every single horrible minute of it. It was mostly upper body stuff which I love working out with a trainer because that is always where I feel like I need it the most. My legs get their fair share of workout all on their own. We did timed exercises. 1 minute of a variety of torturous things. Push yourself to exhaustion. And boy did I. You will never realize how long 60 seconds really is until you are are 1. Trying to finish onto holding a plank after your arms are shot or 2. Doing pushups, or 3. Raising a 40 pound bar over your head. Mind you, by themselves any of these things are accomplishable for 60 seconds. Put them all together, with about 10 other activities in rapid repetition and holy shit, it burns. 30 minutes and I was a sweaty sweaty mess. I loved it. She was ridiculously complimentary as well. She always is. Like I’ve said before, I know it’s her job to compliment her clients and build up their egos but you can’t help but feel warm and fuzzy on the inside as a result. This woman trains lots of clients on a daily basis and she is always telling me that I am a workhorse and I don’t complain and just do and of course how strong I am and how she tries out stuff on me first. I’m kind of in love with personal training if you couldn’t tell.

After training and being a sweaty mess I immediately jumped into a class that was killer last night as well. 30 minutes of more work on top of the killer 30 minute workout I just did and I was dripping sweat everywhere. Crazy good. Then of course I followed that up with 30 minutes of Turbokick. Another good time. So all in all 1.5 hours of fun. Around 750 calories burned which is pretty good for me these days. More importantly I felt like I got a ton of awesome strength training in. Love it. My muscles are coming along in a very nice way.

It is so crazy hard for me to believe that in only 3 months I have made this much progress. I guess all I can say is trust the process, believe in yourself and by all means listen to the professionals. Julie told me that if I trusted her and the process I would see results. Of course that is only if you really put in the work, which of course, we all know I do above and beyond.

This is an interesting reality. I don’t think anyone, including all the people at the gym, would argue that I put in the work. I am at the gym pretty much 6 days a week, minimum an hour a night, mostly 1.5 hours. I have greatly improved my strength and stamina. I know I am a work horse and if you tell me to do something I will do it. All of this is true, but the reality comes into play that I still have a hard time seeing myself as a fit person. I’m working on it.

I think it’s like this. We all know that when we lose weight it can take a very long time for our brains to catch up to the actual image in the mirror. It honestly takes years for our brains to not see ourselves as the fat girl. It’s a slow tedious process. My mom is actually experiencing some of that right now. I don’t think I’ve talked about how awesome my mom is actually doing. She started going to the gym October 2012. When I started losing weight, she joined the gym and did personal training. She is coming up on her year anniversary as well. Anyhow, she is my mom and I love her to death, but obviously she is not as crazy insane as me. No one really can be. Anyhow, he also is older, being my mom and all, so metabolism is not working for her. But she looks awesome! I feel like in the past month or so her body is really starting to tone up. She is never going to be a 140 pound girl. She is never going to be ripped but she is HEALTHY and that is what matters and I am so proud of her. End side tangent.

Anyway, she looks much slimmer and we were discussing on Sunday how she was going thru her clothes and having a bit of some identity issues with the woman she was seeing in the mirror. She is having a hard time believing that that woman is her. I told her it is very natural when one loses weight for it to take a long time for your brain to catch up. It really does. I honestly think it was years before I started seeing myself as a thin healthy person. Probably just about the time I would always start gaining it back. It works both ways for the record. I actually believed I was a thin healthy woman as I gained all the weight back and had a hard time with my brain adjusting to the reality that I was gaining too much weight.

It takes time for our brains to catch up to what is actually occurring. I think this is the same way with my fitness level. I see women at the gym that I consider fit and healthy and I am envious of their abilities. I have a hard time wrapping my head around the concept that I am in their league. I still don’t think I am, but then part of me goes, I have to be. It’s a mental thing for sure. I suspect it will just take time for me to realize my own abilities. It’s no surprise that I don’t see myself clearly. This is my lifelong journey and if it takes more than 3 months for my brain to adjust to my new improved fitness level I think that’s okay.

Last night as I was doing pushups for 60 dreaded seconds I realized that holy shit I was doing real pushups but mostly that 3 months ago I truly could not even do 1 real push up on my own. Sure, I weighed close to 140 pounds and I could run for an hour solid, but I could NOT do even 1 stinking real push up. And somewhere over the course of the last 3 months that happened. I can do pushups for 60 seconds, maybe not a ton of them, but I can do them. Real ones. That is progress.

Last night I felt amazing at the gym, which is exactly why I love going to so much. Tonight is going to be interesting for me. Tonight I go to the gym, at 5:30 there is 1 half hour class and then I can do something else for 30 minutes and then I have to leave at 6:30 because I have a 7 PM therapy appointment. Found a new therapist that can meet Tuesdays at 7 so as to not interfere with work which is good. So I am going tonight. That should be interesting. 7-8 PM, which will make for a long night. I am just praying it doesn’t leave me feeling as yucky as last time but I guess that’s part of the process too.

Honestly, only getting in an hour at the gym tonight is probably a good thing for me since I have had 3 killer days in a row of kick ass exercise. I’ve also eaten really bad for 3 days in a row as result of being extra hungry. I am calling it a wash. I work out really hard so if I’m hungry and I choose to eat more than that is life. I am not weighing myself. I have no idea what the scale is doing. I know all it will ever do at this point is maintain so there’s really no point in weighing myself. I know I am not gaining weight. I can tell from the mirror that things are just fine. So what does it really matter if I get on the scale or not? I’ll take not.

I’ve come such a long way in a year. I really have. I can’t wait until my one year anniversary and I know it’s going to be a doozy of a post and I’m going to cry. I know I am going to cry when I hit a year and I reflect on how incredibly different I am. How changed to my core I feel. I can’t imagine every going back at this point. I can’t imagine giving up my exercise high. I don’t know how I ever got away from that to begin with.

I am going to be successful this time. I already feel it to my core.

Weekend Success

Here we go yet again with another Monday morning. I can honestly tell that after 5 plus years at my job I am starting to get truly bored and unfulfilled because when Sunday night hits I am less than excited about the prospect of ANOTHER week of the same old bull shit. I suspect this is how most people feel about their employment so I suppose I’m not really any rarity. It doesn’t make me any more particularly thrilled about my employment to know I am not alone in the misery of job dissatisfaction. But I guess it’s something.

I actually had an amazing weekend. I really was completely enthralled in me stuff and apparently my true selfish bitch tendencies come out and I want to do what I want to do when I want to do it. It’s okay for me to call myself a selfish bitch because I know I am spoiled. Wait, I’m not a bitch so I should drop that part. I am a selfish spoiled self-absorbed individual at times. There, that’s better. I know it’s true. I am 34 years old. I have spent the better portion of my life without huge gigantic responsibilities and I don’t mind centering my life around myself. What is wrong with that? It’s not like I’m ignoring the other things or people that are important in my life so I guess partaking in self-indulgent activities when the world will allow for it isn’t too terrible.

With that said let me recap my weekend highlights for you. Friday night I did take off from exercise. My body deserves one day of rest a week I do believe and I love making it Friday night’s. I got my nails done and holy crap they are much nicer and more manageable at a shorter length. Love that. Nothing makes you feel better than good grooming. Afterwards I did end up going out for Mexican Food where I ultimately indulged in way too many chips and beans on the table. The actual dinner wasn’t too great either and then of course when I got home I took it as an opportunity to eat way to many white chocolate lindt truffles. Oh well. I figured this was my cheat meal for the week so go ahead and live a little.

Saturday morning I got up and went to the gym as I normally do. I was actually about 10 minutes late to class because I just stuck behind a stupid train. Oh well, I immediately went in and started Turbokick. I had a great hour long turbokick session and then I walked out to the main gym over to the lockers to check my phone. I was still planning on doing weights when my trainer stopped me. She said, Emily, come over here. So this is what went down… She said, “So what do you think about being next month’s member of the month?” My first reaction was, “Already? It’s so soon.” This was my first gut reaction because it’s only been like not even 3 months yet. Let me explain what this is.

Every month the gym obviously picks a “Member of the Month” to do a little write up, spotlight on. These little write ups get published on their Facebook page and their webpage and then printed out and hung up in the gym above the water fountain so that members can read them. I have read every one of them of course. Here is this month’s Member of the Month…

https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=496142333813715&set=a.274999375928013.62654.259788890782395&type=1&theater

I happen to know this girl pretty well actually and the fitness coach/trainer testimonial is NOT my trainer but one of the girls I take lots of classes from and have done a training session from here and there. I love her. She’s adorable.

Here’s August 2013’s member of the month..

https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=491163960978219&set=a.274999375928013.62654.259788890782395&type=1&theater

And that IS my trainer, Julie there. As you can see, they do their stats, and I have to write something up and then my trainer writes something up. I guess I was surprised that I was asked to be the member of the month so soon. Don’t get me wrong, I always believed I would eventually be member of the month but I really didn’t think after 3 months that would happen. I’m not at all done with my journey obviously but I have made good progress.

My trainer told me that I look great and I am a perfect example of why people come to the gym, etc. That she wanted me to use a before photo when I was heavy and to say that I lost all the weight on my own but joined the gym to strength train because I had never done that before and of course, then look at me know kind of thing. I knew they’d want one of my “fat” photos. I mean I have made substantial progress since walking into the gym, but I wasn’t fat and that photo wouldn’t be nearly as impactful as the 220 pound version of me. I guess to be the October 2013 member of the month I have to do my write up now and submit my photos this week, etc. So I have to try and somehow become less wordy than I normally am and compress my entire life’s journey into a few paragraphs. That will be hard I suspect. To express my love for what this gym has done for me in a few paragraphs will expressing my life’s battle with weight. Should be interesting.

I have to say, I cannot tell you how good it felt to be asked. Despite being beyond shocked, it felt nice. She told me that I am one of those people who really “live this” That I am here almost every day and I put in the work. I just don’t do my training sessions and leave. All nice things to hear. So she said we were going to be doing my measurements again here this week so we can submit them. I felt ridiculously humbled to be asked. I mean, I just didn’t think it would be so soon, but I’ll take it.

So after that excitement I did spend over an hour lifting weights and feeling amazing. Nothing gives you a good glow like feeling accomplished. When I finally got home I decided to head to Saturday Market to pick up some fresh flowers. You can’t beat $10 for a bundle of flowers plus it was beautiful outside and I wanted to go to the Pita Pit and pick up a fresh wrap. Amazing. Perfect. Then I ran into the grocery store and got a few things. Pretty low key evening. Watched a movie. Crazy Stupid Love. I’ve seen it before, I own it and I LOVE everything about this movie. Always have. Especially Ryan Gosling. I mean, he’s in my top 5 celebrities for sure. Anyway, I pretty much called it an early evening because I had a big mental obstacle to tackle on Sunday.

As you all know I signed up for my first half marathon race on September 22. That is two weeks away. While I have been running for a very long time at times I don’t feel like a runner because all of my running is done on a treadmill. Somehow it’s like because I run on a treadmill it devalues the validity of my runs. It’s not as hard, there are no hills, you are not tackling Mother Nature, etc. I like the treadmill. I really do. But it does make me feel like a phony for some reason. And yes, I have always wondered if I could actually translate the treadmill into real life running, with all of the elements, etc.

To be honest, I have been dreading it. I don’t know why. Fear. Fear of the unknown. Fear of failure. Plain old fear. It’s a real bitch and VERY real. So I have not actually ran outside. Obviously as the half marathon is getting closer my anxiety has increased over my ability to actually run this damned thing outside. I feel like a phony and I knew I had to tackle an outdoor run just so I could mentally feel better.

I was telling myself all day Saturday that Sunday, come hell or high-water, I would run outside. I would do a nice long run outside to prove to myself that I could do it. This was a big mental obstacle for me. There are multiple factors in the out of doors I am not equipped for. Water? Music? Clothing choices? Hills. Heat. You get the point.

I woke up Sunday morning and just lied in bed for a while. I wanted to make sure I was really awake before I attempted a run. I told myself that I was shooting for a 9-11 mile run. Even if its hard I need to at least go 9 miles which seemed like an awful lot, especially given my trepidation about outdoor running. I honestly spent too much time in bed before getting up. I did immediately put on workout gear. Picked a nice comfy pair of pants and my best outdoor running shoes. Of course I needed to eat and drink and throw together a playlist on the I-phone to listen to. Oh and I had to find my arm band for my phone. I don’t run outside a lot and I knew I had one somewhere. Oh, and I downloaded and played with an app for running, Run Keeper. I actually LOVED this app completely.

Anyway, by the time all of this was accomplished it was 10:00 AM. A little late probably to be starting a long run but oh well. I had mentally committed and I had no idea exactly what I was doing. I figured if I really couldn’t manage it, I only had to run for an hour. It was better than nothing. But I started the music, stated the app and just started running. I had no destination or route in mind. I just headed out in the neighborhood and ran. The first 2 miles sucked. Getting my bearings was hard and I was like, what the hell am I doing? I hate this. And then I started to find my comfort zone and things started getting better.

Mainly, unlike the treadmill, I didn’t have a constant screen to monitor my speed and distance and pace. Of course the phone was tracking all of that but it was on my arm. What I did love about that app is that is synced with my music player and it played music and then over the top of the music it gave me updates on my time, speed, distance, pace, etc. That was nice. So I started to learn to expect the updates and just enjoy the run. I think because I was not setting a speed on a treadmill that is dictated I had a hard time adjusting to keeping a pace. Or rather believing that I was running at a decent speed. At times I felt like I was moving so slow. Of course when I got the “updates” I realized I was going pretty decent so then I felt okay.

There are indeed a lot of factors in outdoor running. The ground variation being a big one. Hills, up sections, uneven ground, etc. And then there was the heat. It was actually warm out yesterday. Starting at 10 meant that I was getting into some sun. My slightly reddened body is proof of the sun’s affects. Didn’t expect that. So I ran and just turned down any road I felt like. Eventually I came to a road and started running out towards the country. Once I hit country roads it became more enjoyable. Of course the hills were not. But I ran anyway. When the voice came over and told me I had run for 1 hour a little shy of 6 miles I was like okay. I can do this.

It was hard. It was harder than treadmill running but I could see how with the correct scenery it could also have a lot more benefits as well. Around mile 8 I started to get thirsty and tired and it started to get more hot. It was 11:20 or so at this point and I was like okay, think logically, I was running back into town and I kept running up a street towards a Plaid Pantry. I did have the foresight to bring a few bucks with me so I ran into the store, and bought and chugged a water and then I was off again.

Other factors of running outdoors are stop lights and traffic. I had to stop a few times for minutes at stop lights. That really killed my pace timing. But it was cool. First experience and all of feeling like a real runner. Being one of those people running on the side of the road that I see and often feel envious of.

At about Mile 10 my legs started to get tired. I was not near the house so there was no way I was stopping even if I wanted to, but since I was at Mile 10 I was like, ah, just push on and do the 13.1 miles. Secretly, I had hoped I could do that all along but I didn’t want to put too much pressure on myself in case it didn’t go that way.

At this point I was back in residential housing land and I just kept street running, working towards my house. Around mile 12 I pulled up towards my house and had to pass it over to the school by my house where I entered the middle school track and did a lap or two. When my app voice come over and told me 12.5 miles, I started to head back towards my house. Finish strong, despite the killer legs. So I ran. I took the phone out of the arm holder at the point and had it in my hand so I could see the mileage tick away. 12.85 miles and I was almost home, so I ran an extra loop in the cul-de-sac I live on. And as the mileage ticked to 13.1 I was standing in the road in front of my house and I hit stop on the app. 13.1 miles, 2 hours, 20 minutes, 3 seconds exactly. This included a few stop lights where I had to stop running for a good couple minutes. Extra-long lights. Otherwise I pretty much ran all but a few minutes of that 13.1 miles.

In the end my pace was 10:41. I ran 13.1 miles each at 10:41 seconds. Not too bad. That’s a little high of a pace for me normally but when I am stringing together 13 of them in a row I will take that pace and smile because that was HARD. Especially because by the time I finished around 12:20 or so, it was HOT outside. I really only drank 1 20 ounce thing of water around mile 9. I did not bring any sunglasses so I had to deal with that. And of course this was my first experience with the ground. I was thrilled. I did it. 13.1 miles in 2 hours 20 minutes. Holy shit, I think that is a more than acceptable pace. It’s not super-fast, but it’s my time. I did it. I own it. I accomplished that. And more importantly I felt like a real runner afterwards. Like suddenly I can actually call myself a runner because I ran the whole damned thing outside.

I was exhausted. But it was a great feeling of accomplishment. Now I know I can do it and that is all that matters. That is all I wanted. I can run 13.1 miles outside with all the factors and challenges that it creates. My legs are a little sore today. But tonight I go to the gym anyway for personal training and classes. I really hope it’s not leg day, but given my luck I am sure it’s going to be… ha….

So I had a super important weekend for me. I feel accomplished and so proud of myself. That is a great feeling.

Flashback Friday

So I just spent a little while this morning looking at Oregon colleges. I am not saying anything is going to happen but I just wanted to “see” what kinds of health and fitness related degrees were out there. Everything is baby steps for me and this was just a step to see what options might exist in this world. Obviously going thru college websites instantly threw me back to 1997 when I was a senior in high school researching college and deciding what the hell I wanted to do with my life. Obviously at the time I didn’t figure it out. I really didn’t. I am not sure if I officially thought that English or Business was going to be my major. Neither sounds appealing to me at the moment.

All of this college stuff got me thinking way too much about high school and the path I took and career choices. I was a very smart, studios girl. Probably not so much because I really enjoyed it, but because it was just what was expected or pre-determined for me. My father was smart. He had a Biology degree from Oregon State University. He was always a smart man. Caring about academics was just instilled in all of us at an early age. Plus the accolades and sense of worth from being good at something was a motivating factor early on. As a child there was no way I was going to excel at anything physical so academics had to be my thing by default.

When it came time to start thinking about college there was no doubt in my mind I was going it was just a matter of what the hell I wanted to do. I actually think it’s a stupid ridiculous concept that at 18, having only experienced high school I was supposed to know what would excite and fulfill me for my life. Obviously not. Obviously it has taken me the better part of 34 years to even begin to understand what motivates me and what my passions are.

Nonetheless, with scholarship after scholarship application filled out and college essays written I settled on Linfield College, a small private Oregon based school. I was excited. I was jumping back and forth between English, simply because I loved to write and at some point fancied myself a budding journalist. (That did not pan out) and then it was Business because that is pretty much a fall back on job that I could have done pretty successfully. Both are boring and safe. I am sure I’ve mentioned before my failed attempt at college. Fall of 1997 I headed off to college, moved into a dorm room and almost instantly realized I had made a grave mistake. It wasn’t my time. Things were not right. Nothing was going my way and as per typical of my personality I bailed. I couldn’t handle the pressure.

I was doomed from the get-go because my roommate was this ultra-thin and perfect volleyball player who already had a circle of athletic friends around her. When I arrived at college my freshman year I was awkward, and overweight. No real record but guessing I was weighing in around the 180-200 pound range. Exercise was the furthest thing from my mind. In fact I had spent the better portion of my entire life avoiding it at all costs.

This take me back to 6th grade where in middle school they offered band and choir as a choice INSTEAD of PE. Now I had no natural ability to play any instrument so band was out and if the choice was choir or PE, guess what I chose? Yup, I can’t sing at all. Like not a lick. It was awful and anytime we’d come to perhaps having a solo in class I’d panic and sweat would form but hell, it WASN’T P.E. and that is all that mattered. In hindsight I think I hated PE so much because it forced you to be pitted against all those kids who were naturally athletic and enjoyed it. If I had been given a safe environment to nurture the inner athlete who obviously lives inside of me perhaps my entire life would have taken a different path.

Back to college. My roommate and I had very different ideas of what the college experience were going to be like. Of course I didn’t give it much of a chance actually. We might have had more in common deep down than I thought, but again, hindsight. Then when I went to sign up for classes it was an awful mess and I ended up in awful completely unrelated classes and I just broke. I didn’t have any desire to take a politics class or ancient history and yet those were the classes I was stuck in. These are the things I blamed for me pulling out but the truth is, I just wasn’t ready. I was 18 and incredibly socially awkward and NOT ready. So after a week I left. Packed it all up and came back home. I did go to a community college and take undergraduate courses while I tried to figure out what the hell I wanted to do with my life.

I went for a year of undergraduate studies before finding the Visual Communications program where I spent another 2 years on graphic design, which I actually did love. I love making things pretty. Always have. That did fit right into everything that was up my alley. Of course though, I was still an awkward overweight girl. Bottom line is this, I was so afraid of how others perceived me I limited myself. I did not fully embrace any of it because I did not feel worthy. It took me a few more years from this point before I finally joined weight watchers for the very first time and put into motion a series of events that would forever change and shape my character.

In high school I was certainly known as the academic nerdy girl. I was editor of the high school newspaper, I was a pretty active kick ass member of the speech team and I took all the advanced classes. Did I mention DECA club, Key Club, National Honor’s Society, Leadership class. You get the point. There was not a soul that would have considered me athletic and rightfully so. I took my 1 year required PE the beginning of my freshman year where I spent more days than not dreading its entire existence. I was even known to skip a day or two if I knew something particularly awful was going to be occurring, like a long run. I shake my head now. Because even while I was dreading every moment of it, I’d on occasion wake up in cold sweats with vivid dreams of running free, literally running. My inner athlete was trying to break out even then. I shut her the fuck up, didn’t I?

I remember the athletic girls in high school. I was so jealous of them and their lives. Inevitably the athletic girls were the popular girls with all the friends. I believe I tried once to be the “stats” girl for an athletic team just to feel involved but you aren’t really involved if you are the stats girl are you? This is in part, why so much of my high school was so pathetically sad. I really didn’t have any true friends. I had a lot of acquaintances. I had a lot of people that I could talk to but no REAL friends. My sophomore year in high school my best friend got a boyfriend, whom she is very happily married to these days with 2 adorable children and she pretty much left me in the dust.

If you check out Facebook as a tools of keeping tabs on high school people I am certain no one would have every pegged their money on me being the athletic chick I am today. In fact I once had a popular jock guy from high school tell me on Facebook that he was blown away and would never have guessed. I still think about that. Who I was in high school was a derivative of circumstance. I did the best I could under the circumstances that were presented to me. Genetics were not kind to me. My self-esteem was shot and my ability to discover who I really was quite limited given the peer pressure of it all.

The thing is we all grow up and become what we were meant to become no matter what we once were. A lot of those athletic popular girls are exactly what you’d expect them to be these days. Nothing against them and no judgment but they became moms who struggle with their weight. And I became me. For the first time in my life I feel like this is the REAL me. All of my life struggles have led me to this place. I love waking up with a sore body from exercise. I love the thrill and anticipation of another good run. I love the mental clarity and satisfaction I get from being strong. All concepts that were completely elusive to me in high school. Concepts that would never had led me to a career path in health and wellness.

As I looked at course guides for health and wellness careers this morning I literally shook my head and nodded. Scrolling thru the list of topics, searching for the HE for health courses struck me as so ridiculously ironic. These were the very classes that I spent a lifetime avoiding and here I am, searching them out at the old age of 34. I’m not necessarily saying that I will end up back in college. It is all a little overwhelming and financially might be impossible, but it’s a step. A step to think about what might fulfill me. Perhaps I am sitting here in an office unfulfilled by my career because I’ve just been passing the time until I figured out my true calling? Perhaps the universe was simply waiting for me to get it right? All interesting thoughts.

We are never simply just one thing. We are all such complex human beings. Clearly at 18 I knew some things about myself. I do love to write. It has always been my outlet. As I sit here and write even know, my 18 year old self was fully aware of the importance of the written word in my life. Once upon a time, a 20 year old girl took a chance on graphic design and found something she truly loved which ignited the inner designer in me. That girl was not wrong either. I adore all things pretty and in its place. I am a designer. As much as I am an athlete, I am a designer.

I cannot regret any of the decisions I have made in my life because they are all my choices and have all shaped the woman I am today. I just have to believe in the power or rather our own ability to change. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that the 18 year old version of me would have bet a million bucks on the fact that the 34 year old me would NOT be where she’s at. And there’s something kind of refreshing in knowing that. Because basically it tells me that the possibilities are endless for what the 46 year old version of me could be like. I can’t even tell you because every experience shapes us.

Maybe, just maybe, one of these days I may just get it right. I mean, I have never been happier or more at peace in my entire life than I am when I am succeeding at my health and fitness goals. There are moments of true divine happiness when I am running. That has got to tell you something. That perhaps you should pay more attention to that little voice inside your head. You know that one who was giving me dreams about being an all-star runner back when I was an overweight self-conscious teenager. My inner voice knew all along didn’t she? I remember one day out of nowhere actually telling my mom, that I think I am supposed to run. I am not even joking. Can’t tell you if I was 16, 17, 18… but one night after having another dream I distinctly remember telling her and almost posing it as a question. The hesitation in my voice was apparent, but I said, “I think I am supposed to run. I think I can run?” Definitely a question. A question I ignored. And now I know I am supposed to run. I know I am a runner. Any doubt or question has been answered.

I guess the point is, it’s never too late to be what you were always supposed to be. Or to become the person you want to be. Either way, you are in control of your right now. And oh, by the way, secretly I’m totally looking forward to actually going to a high school reunion someday, say in 4 years, to a 20 year reunion and rocking it and being that woman who aged awesomely and is even better 20 years out than she ever was in high school. Now that would make my 18 year old self proud.

Dark and Dreary Day

I don’t actually have all that much to say today, go figure. It’s kind of dark and dreary outside which pretty much instantly sucks all of my energy and motivation. Fun times. That and I’m hungry which also sucks. I equate hunger to growing pains. Like literally I am growing new muscles and they need to be fed like a small child craving nutrients. Lame, I know.

Last night I did something at the gym that I didn’t even realize was something I wanted to do. Ha. After I had been there for far too long I was walking out the door to leave and had to walk right by the boxes. You know, those boxes that people jump up and down on. I have used them before, but I can only stand and jump onto the lowest one. I know for certain a while ago that I tried to jump up onto the next one up and I could not. So I stuck with the small one and honestly in the very beginning it was all mind over matter. Its mentally more tough than physically. So last night I was jumping up and down, up and down because its fun, right? Anyway, I looked over at the next height up and was like, whatever, go ahead and try it. So Sure enough I COULD jump it. I jumped the next height up. It was hard. It is something I am going to have to practice for sure, but I did it. Challenge accepted as in the words of the fabulous Barney Stinson from How I Met Your Mother. (Ridiculously amazing show BTW) Anyway, challenge accepted and I didn’t even realize it was something that I wanted to do. That was pretty cool I guess.

Other than that it was a low key night at the gym I guess. I did my 3 classes which were cool and then I did some weights on my own. Nothing too spectacular of note. I am going back again tonight which isn’t shocking. Tonight I will do a ½ hour class that will most likely kick my ass because its with a crazy instructor. Crazy in a good way :) And then I will probably actually take Zumba class because it’s the same instructor and she really does a much more athletic version of Zumba…. Less dance, which is more appealing to my go, go, go persona. That will be it for me tonight though. As tonight is literally the 6th day in a row of gym time for me. Tomorrow is rest day. Friday’s are always my rest day actually and to make sure that happens I actually made myself a nail appointment at 5:15 so I don’t tempt myself with going to the gym. I really do think my body deserves 1 day off a week as much as I mentally hate it and have to force that break on myself. But I also desperately need a nail fill and for these suckers to be cut too. Way too long and they are driving me crazy. So that will be good.

This weekend I will head to the gym again Saturday morning for hopefully Turbokick, but that is also one of those wait and see type things. Will there be enough people for class? This depends greatly on the weekend. If not I will find something else to do. I really am quite the addict on that front. No doubt about it, this is 100% whole-heartedly my lifestyle now. I love my gym-time. I must admit though its much easier to get jacked about going to the gym when you are already at goal or physically where you want to be and everything I do from now on feels like icing on the cake. Much easier to stay committed when I don’t feel like I’m chasing this gigantic goal. I hate to say that because that’s probably not what most people want to hear but it’s the truth. I was still completely always focused while losing the weight but working out is easier nowadays when I just have the mentality that every activity I do is to better myself because I ALREADY love myself. Exercise is not about torture or punishment or self-loathing at this point.

Life is interesting. Mainly our brains are interesting things. I don’t know what it is or why some days we are just so full of energy and excitement and then other days its just blah. I am having a blah day actually. Most days I look in the mirror and love what I see. Today, not so much. Sure, I still love myself but today is just one of those days where I’m finding it more difficult to see the positive. I look in the mirror and am not really happy with what I see. I know its all in my head because nothing has changed since yesterday but still. Hate those days. Not exactly sure why but I just feel ugly today. I hate that word because no one is ever “ugly” but still. I am not immune to the realities of a bad day. We all have them. No matter what you weigh, no matter where you are at mentally or physically in life you still have bad days.

I’ve always said it and I 100% mean it, its easy to do this weight loss journey thing when everything is going right and you have all the motivation in the world. It gets tough and your true character shows when things aren’t clicking the way you like. You succeed when you find a way to push thru the bad days and keep going. Your success is not measured in the times of triumph but rather in the times you fall and pick yourself back up. So I’m struggling today a little but it does not define me or my journey.

Funny how you can look in the mirror one day and see this amazing strong woman and then the next day see something completely different. You suddenly see all the imperfections that you cannot change, the damage you did to your body that you will never be able to undo. And it depresses you. Oh well, some days you just got to live with it. They can’t all be rainbows and sunshine huh…. Literally, dark depressing rain clouds outside… I will survive.

Mother of Compliments

Another day, more of the same. I’d say who reads this shit that I dribble out but then I actually had that question answered a few weeks ago with all the amazing emails I received form incredibly, awesome, strong woman throughout the United States. So as much as I dribble on and think it is inconsequential there is that little voice in the back of my head that says someone actually does read this. It is still a crazy thought to me as at my core I feel like such a simple girl using the written word to work thru her issues. Actually, I always wrote in journals my entire life to deal with the inside so this is just yet another form of my therapy. The fact that anyone else reads it or can pull anything from it to motivate or encourage them is the bonus.

Last night at the gym I had one of the single best compliments or happy moments. I know I say that all the time in terms of the gym being this amazing place for me and it whole-heartedly is but last night was the best form of affirmation for my past almost 3 months of work there. I consider my gym experience really to have begun when I returned from Maui and went back to the gym on June 12th. That was the start of this epic journey into gym land. Given we are now at September 4, we are just about a week shy of 3 months of effort.

Watching a scale go down is trackable progress. It is something very tangible we can record and work towards. It is complete motivation to be rewarded in such a way. When that particular journey is completed for you it gets a little dicier. This is the problem that has plagued me for 10 years. I am motivated by reward and accomplishment. Tangible, trackable, graph-able progress. When that progress ends because there is just no more you can do I tend to lose my way. It is much harder to put the progress that has been occurring the last 3 months into any sort of trackable form. But I know the progress is happening, even if I can’t quantify it with a chart or diagram.

I said, sometime ago, that one of my personal goals was that walking around in my everyday life I want someone to be able to look at me and know I am a fit person. Know that I am one of those girls who lives a healthy active lifestyle. I want my passion to be written on my body. Basically, I want to be toned enough that there is no doubt I work out. This of course is something that you would rarely get feedback on. Not as if strangers are ever going to come up to you and tell you this. But it’s simply going to be that feeling that when I look in the mirror I know I look strong and that confidence will project to the world.

Amazingly enough last night at the gym I had a moment. A complimentary moment that blows all the charts and graphs out of the water. There is no way to express what the words of 2 strangers have done for me. Let me explain what happened.

I went to the gym. I did my half hour class that is completely killer. Sweating like a pig. Afterwards I hit up the weights because it’s what I do these days. Working on that upper body, building all the strength that I never had before. Then I moved over to a kettle ball to do some swings. I was standing there, minding my own business in the gym. Where I happened to be standing was close to the workout room. It was a little after 7 PM, and the Zumba class had just finished up and the people were pouring out of the room. Most of them were walking by me to leave. I really was minding my own business doing some squats lifting the kettle ball up and down and as I squatted.

I stood there and 2 ladies walked right over to me. I would say they were in their early forties perhaps, not really sure. I have seen them at the gym before but never talked to them. One of them walks right up to me and says,
“Okay, so how long did it take you to get those arms, because they look really toned and amazing.”

I was completely caught off guard. I had to pause and process for a moment. Holy shit she is talking about my arms that I’ve been working really hard on because I have never had this kind of definition in them. I told her it’s been about 3 months, that’s when I joined the gym and before that I didn’t do any strength training. She looked at her friend and they both looked amazed and were like, “Really, 3 months?” I’m like, well, I do work really hard and I am here A LOT!. She was like, how many days a week do you come? I told her minimum 5 but some weeks 6 times a week.

It was in this moment that I realized that while I have always known that I watch other people at the gym and aspire to be like some of them clearly here is the living proof that I am being watched too. It doesn’t scare me at this point. I find it so incredibly motivating. I have always wanted to inspire and lead by example. I just never believed for a second I was there yet.

It made my night. Seriously put the biggest smile on my face because it is the intangible progress that I have been working towards despite not having any actual proof that it is working. One can’t chart or graph compliments and moments in time where they are rewarded for their efforts but it is beyond a shadow of a doubt more rewarding that seeing a lower number on a scale. Who cares about the scale when the most important thing in the world is how you feel about yourself.

The fact of the matter is this, I had not picked up a weight or strength trained my upper body in the least prior to 3 months ago. In 3 freaking months’ time my upper body has become noticeably toned enough that two strangers would come up to me in the gym to inquire about it. Are you kidding me? I actually honestly had a moment where I looked around the gym to see if someone put them up to this… I had a slight moment where I thought it was a joke and there was no way they were being serious. That is the horrible self-doubt coming back. But I had to stop my brain and go No… No… your arms do look good and there is no one at this gym who would ever put them up to this and they were not joking at all.

3 months apparently is how long it takes an obsessive compulsive girl to build enough upper body strength for strangers to notice. Not too bad. I am shocked at what I have been able to accomplish in 3 months which is why I have so easily given myself over to the beauty of strength training. It has just improved everything so dramatically for me. Yes I don’t run nearly as much as I used to but honestly it has made the times I do run that much more rewarding and enjoyable. It has given me the feeling of anticipation and looking forward to a good run.

To say that the gym has changed me is the complete understatement of my life. But you know what, I don’t think it’s entirely the gym actually. I joined a gym once before, years ago, and this did not happen. Probably because I didn’t really go. But I didn’t really go because it wasn’t the right fit. This gym, at this point in my life has connected. The stars and the universe aligned and resulted in something down right magical. It’s the people. It’s the way I feel when I am there. It’s the connections I have with the staff and trainers. It’s pure love actually. And every single day my comfort level grows and I feel like I belong there. I feel like I am exactly the type of person that gyms were created for. My inner beast is awoken in a way that has NEVER come to life before. I just don’t give up. I just fight thru every damned thing thrown at me. My desire to succeed far outweighs any amount of physical pain that I may endure. My inner champion is roaring and ready to go EVERY damned day. Who the hell am I? Where did she come from?

Clearly I have more time to focus my attention and energies on this than most women are afforded. I have the luxury of time. I get that. I can’t even begin to imagine the responsibilities of motherhood. Actually I see it in the amazing women around me who are beautiful wonderful mothers. It is the most challenging and rewarding job in the world. It’s a full time job on top of some of these women having full time jobs so I truly get how it is impossible for them to devote themselves to their health the way I can. But you don’t have to spend your life working out, it really can be done in little chunks here and there. As obsessive as it sounds I have a pair of 5 pound dumbbells I keep at work and a pair at home that I pick up and do different exercises with all the time. Just as I walk by, do 10 arm lifts, etc. It’s amazing how easily this shit add ups.

And without sounding conceited because that is the last thing I want to do, I have to say that I really am falling in love with my upper body. I have to stop and touch my shoulders, my biceps, and my back from time to time just to confirm that that shit really is mine. It is so solid and muscular and I have a hard time believing it really belongs on my body. But I have earned it because I have worked for it. 3 months of persistence and dedication. I did not start out this way, not by any means and I am just not stopping. It only motivates me more.

I can’t even begin to imagine what things are going to look like in another 3 months, or 6 months even. I think I am well on my way to being that athletic toned girl that I have desired to be my entire life but was simply too afraid to be. It just takes a little bit of courage. I was scared shitless to join the gym, but I did it. I was scared shitless to do personal training, but I did it. I was scared shitless to not run 6 days a week and tackle strength training, but I did it. If I wouldn’t have been brave and taken those steps I don’t know where I’d be at this exact moment. Not nearly as happy as I have been. On the cusp of taking control and living a truly authentic life. 2013 has been beyond amazing for me, as I kind of thought it would be in 2012. One benefit of blogging your life is that you can go back and reference. On December 28, 2012 I wrote, and I quote;

2012 hasn’t been the best year of my life, but what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger right? Thanks Kelly Clarkson for that. I am thinking 2013 will be much better… Said with a grain of salt before 2013 has even begun. I will make goal again this year and that is something to celebrate all by itself. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger and I feel stronger today than EVER….

I knew what was brewing inside of me 8 months ago, I just had no idea as I wrote that how amazing 2013 would really prove to be. And the funny thing is this, 2013 has been all about changing and growing and self-discovery. I haven’t even gotten to the really fun part just yet. My prediction for 2014? Best year of my life. Why? Because I am finally going to start living and stop holding myself back. I am going to do those fun things that I have always dreamed of. Not that I’m throwing in the towel on 2013 just yet. I’ve still got basically 4 months to go and I have lots of challenges left to tackle. I mean in about 2 ½ weeks I am running a half marathon. Holy shit is it that soon already?

So that is where I am at today. And guess what I’m doing it all over again tonight at the gym. 5:30 Class, 6:00 Class, 6:30 Class. Yup. I just keep going. It’s my passion. It’s what I do. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Oh, I'm adding some photos of me today...

Weekend Happenings

So aside from my freeze image moment that I discussed in detail below I had a long interesting weekend. I am sad to be back at work, but who isn’t after having had time off? It really further illustrates how discontented I am with my job. I love my job. I mean, I love the people I work for. I love the simplicity and easiness of my job, but I don’t actually find any of it fulfilling. That’s a discussion or problem for another day I suppose.

Let’s discuss weekend highlights I suppose. I went to the Oregon State Fair with my mom. It was nice to get out and do something fun. Instead of eating a single yucky friend food which the smell of kind of made me sick, we go fresh fruit cups. Yeah, for someone offering such an option at the fair. Got slices of watermelon and cantaloupe and other fresh fruits. Pretty good. Yeah me. We also saw a concert this weekend. Reo Speedwagon. I actually know a surprising amount of Reo songs. Guess that’s what happens when you grow up in a household with a dad who likes his rock music. Anyhow, the music was good. The people were interesting. It was about what I expected. Lots of 50+ people who were rocking out. Some of them embraced aging with dignity and grace (some gorgeous examples of women that I shall aspire to) and some who still believed it was 1984. Hairstyle and all. Good times.

At the end of the concert, as a lot of the people had already left leaving me and my mom pretty much alone in the isle to ourselves (I guess as you get older you can’t stay out that late anymore?) Whatever. Reo played a nice ballad on the piano and we were kind of swaying back and forth and all of a sudden a guy came up next to my mom and put his arm around her. I looked over at her and gave her a look like hmm… I was actually trying to not laugh and then wouldn’t you know karma’s a nasty bitch and he moved in between us and put his arm around me too. He was like, “I just love this song.” And so we swayed back and forth as I felt completely awkward. It was harmless enough just bizarre. I was giving my mom a hard time about it afterwards. He was more my mom’s age, um… it was an REO concert after all. He was obviously drunk and mom said he was staring at her boobs. Not shocking!

I got in some great workouts this weekend which is nice. I really am in my happy place at the gym. I love leisurely weekend workouts. If you don’t have any time restraints you can just go and enjoy yourself and try out new things. My favorite workouts tend to be my open ended weekend ones. So good.

So this happened. I was running some errands around town and ran into a Circle K to buy a rockstar drink. I grabbed two of them and headed up to the checkout. I placed my drinks on the counter to pay and this guy came up behind me with a case of beer in his hand. I smiled as I am a polite person. He notices the rock star’s and is like, I like those energy drinks too. I’m like, yeah, I’m kind of addicted to them. He asked if I had tried a particular kind, I was like no. I was being nice, making small talk as the checker rang up my drinks. I’m a nice person. I’m not going to be mean to anyone. Then as the checker says the total I take out my card to pay and then the guy behind me chimes in, “No, I got it. I’ll buy hers.” I look at the checker confused and then at him and was like, “No. That’s okay. I got it.” I mean, I had my card in my hand. And then he’s like, No, I insist. I got it. And then he puts his beer on the counter and pays for all of it.

In that moment I felt awful actually. I felt like a dirty whore. I don’t even know how else to explain it. I’ve never had the privilege of feeling like a dirty whore and honestly it sucks. I have no idea how gold diggers do it. I have no problem with someone buying something for me and being nice. What I don’t like is this feeling of expectation that comes with it. I did not know this person at all. I was not attracted to this person. I knew what he was doing. I knew what he was thinking and I felt bad. That is why I wanted to buy my own drinks because I didn’t want him thinking I was obligated to him somehow because he bought me 2 energy drinks. Gross. Not happening. I was still being nice and said thank you. You really didn’t have to do that. He was like, hey, can I get your number? I said, “No thank you.” And I walked out before it got more awkward. But I felt bad. I didn’t want to give him the impression that I was interested. I wasn’t. I was nice because I am a nice person and I’m not going to ignore someone in a checkout line who is talking to me. I wouldn’t do that. But no, you cannot have my phone number. That has never happened to me before. It was nice to get some attention but I didn’t like the feeling of obligation that it presented. I was NOT obligated to this guy. I did not ask him for anything and in fact I tried to pay for my own stuff. Crazy.

So since yesterday was Labor Day the gym closed at 5 PM. I had to do my personal training session in the morning. It was bizarre to get up and do it at 8:45 AM but I got in a great workout anyway. My trainer kicked my ass, as per typical I guess. Lots of ab work this week. I HATE ab work because it hurts so damned bad. Guess that’s the point. I don’t do it on my own, ever. Hate it. I am all off because it feels like Monday but it’s really Tuesday now. Tonight at the gym is just one class and then I will be on my own. I mean, I’m going. I always go. It’s just what I do. Actually I have to say the days where I don’t exercise are completely my least favorite. I love the feeling of a great workout.

I think that’s about it for me. I am about talked out at this point. Plus its almost lunch time and I am getting hungry.

My Freeze Image Moment

So I recently watched Bridget Jones’s Diary for like the millionth time in my life. Bridge has always been one of my favorite heroines of all time and it occurred to me the other day I had not seen the movie in years so one evening it found its way into the DVD player and away we went. The point of this mention is this. There was a moment in the movie where the image freeze frames and a voice over goes, there, that moment right there, that exact moment was the moment where I decided to do something about it. It was the subtle use of the freeze image to capture the exact moment that something major changed for our heroine. I had that exact moment on Sunday afternoon while running on the treadmill. Where else would I have a major life change moment anyway?

Sunday was in fact the Disneyland Half Marathon run which apparently is really difficult to actually get registered for because it’s ultra-competitive to just get to run the race. Who knew? Anyway, tweets and Facebook pictures started coming in early of celebrities (okay celebrities to me, even if their actual celebrity status may be in question think Biggest Loser people here) Anyway, I started seeing images and felt that familiar feeling of jealousy rise up in my stomach. That feeling of hmm… and I couldn’t quite place it. You see, I am a huge Disney fan. It’s not like I walk around talking about Disney or loving it but I do. It taps into my inner child that has never left me. Anyway, I have often thought about the Run Disney adventure. We all know I’ve been yo-yoing my life and weight around for 10 years and often in those 10 years I have come back to thinking it would be amazing to run Disney. I very quickly dismiss this thought for various reasons. Money. Traveling to run? Fear. Lack of belief in myself. I’ve always given myself a million reasons why I could not possibly be one of those people. I am not good enough. As the images came in Sunday and I ran around and did errands and finally headed to the gym I had given this thing a lot of thought really. More thought than one probably should. And my Bridget moment was looming.

I didn’t really want to kill another giant long run on Sunday but I did want the high of running so I decided to go ahead and run a fast 5k. Well, fast for me. As to the actual “fastness” of the run, that might be in question but for now it is the fastest I have recorded a 5k run. I am at the point where I run at about a 6.4 on the treadmill speed wise. I decided to go ahead and start my run at a 7.0 speed just to see. Then I was like I can go faster so I went to 7.2 and decided to go for it. If it was too fast I could always bump it down to a 6.4 mid-way thru my 5k run. But I wanted to do it. And of course I had the new Katy Perry Roar song on repeat and as all of these factors converged; I experienced my Bridget Jones freeze image moment.

I started running, like really running, running faster than I have run 7.2. I have images of Disney running thru my head. I have all this self-doubt that I’ve carried around for years and then I hear Katy Perry signing out, “I’ve got the eye of the tiger. Cause I am a champion. And you’re going to hear me roar. Louder than a lion.” And I shit you not, as this played into my ears loudly, I had tears streaming down my face. Why do I always cry on the treadmill? “I went from zero, to my own hero.” Lyrics in the song. I AM A CHAMPION. And as I was running and I felt amazing, I believed every single word of those lyrics. And then it happened. As if the world suddenly paused for my epiphany. And I freeze framed that exact moment where the light bulb turned on in my head. “I AM going to run a Disney race.” I AM a champion and I can do whatever the fuck I put my mind to. I am so much stronger and more capable than I give myself any credit for. Why not me? Why not? I’m tired of all of those ridiculous excuses I’ve given myself for 10 years. I’m tired of not believing in myself. I’m tired of not thinking I am one of those people who can achieve things they’ve dreamed about. And the world seemed to pause while I made this exact decision and tears of strength and courage streamed down my face. Except the world didn’t actually pause because I was running pretty damned fast and feeling amazing.

I certainly have my best mental break thrus while in the throes of a good run. And ultimately while the decision was about deciding to run Disney in 2014 it was about more than that too. That Bridget moment that I have freeze framed in my mind is not about the decision to run Disney. That freeze frame moment for me is the exact moment where I decided that I was going to get the fuck out of my own way for the first time in my life. That I was going to stop putting stupid restrictions on myself and my abilities. That I was no longer going to be afraid to pursue whatever it is that makes me happy. That was my moment that I want to remember forever. That exact moment where I decided to let myself follow my passion, whatever it might be.

Now I can’t promise that this will always come easy to me or I won’t struggle, but that moment was so unbelievably powerful that I just want to remember it perfectly as it was. I have never, really honestly, EVER in my whole life felt more pure unadulterated passion or happiness. Is that odd that my moment of Zen happiness comes while running faster than I ever have on a treadmill, while crying, while listening to a female empowerment song?

I’ve spent my entire life chasing myself really. From an early age my personality was established, my character formed and this girl was taking shape inside of me. I was a self-conscious girl my whole life who secretly wanted more. I played with Barbie’s until I was like 16, no joke. Like dressed them up and made them talk to each other. I still have Barbie’s. They no longer converse with one another :) I grew into a teenager who felt powerless but craved more. I secretly wanted to be pretty and popular. I dreamed of being Homecoming Queen. Not ever happening. I wanted a popular boyfriend. Guys didn’t look at me. I wanted to be Samantha Baker from 16 Candles. (I just watched 16 Candles last night!) And I wanted my Jake Ryan.

As I hit my late teens and life was not at all what I had envisioned I still sought out female empowering role models that I wished I could be. It seems to be no coincidence that Buffy the Vampire Slayer quickly became my obsession. Or that I fell in love with Sex and the City. Or that years later P!nk would become my love. Notice a pattern of strong kick-ass women? Something that I was striving to be but always came up short on. They all embodied the things that I was not brave enough to be. The picture of how I wanted to live my life but didn’t know how to. There is nothing I love more than a strong woman. Period. My respect and admiration for women who are strong and capable all by themselves have set the tone for my entire life.

When I first started blogging 10 years ago, it derived from the weight watchers messages boards, the 50+ pounds to lose board actually where I spent so much time talking to amazing women. It was from here where I met some of the most amazing women of my life and I got to see first-hand that that aside from fictional characters there really were women in real life who were the living embodiment of strength and courage. I slightly hero-worshiped some of them because I felt like they were everything I was not. Ultimately I became very proud to call them my friends.

All the while, forever and ever, never really believing in myself. Sure, I could lose weight. That is honestly the easy part when you are obsessive compulsive and start to do things to your body that you could not ever possibly keep up. But you know what happened? I lost the weight and for a while I would feel good, but I never really changed the inside. At times in 10 years I thought I had. And maybe for a brief period of time I had. But I didn’t really “get it”. I never got it. Fundamentally I understood that I could not do the things I was doing to lose weight for the entire duration of my life.

I never threw up my food. I never completely starved myself. But there were days where I would limit my food more than anyone ever should. There were days where I punished myself with exercise. There were days where despite being anything but “fat” I would torture myself in the mirror with words of hate and self-ridicule that was beyond unfair. I did not love my body despite professing to the world that I was happy losing weight and claiming to think this time was different. It never was. How could it possibly be when the self-hatred was still so profound? I was destined to fail. I see that now. Hindsight is 20/20. I was a walking mess.

My journey I am on right now is no longer about weight loss. That ended a couple months ago when I hit 140 pounds. The journey I am walking right now is the most important one of my life and the one that I can honestly and completely say I have NEVER gone on before. My journey is the one of self-love. My journey is about learning to love, appreciate, and believe in myself. It’s about loving all the good and all the bad about myself. Mainly, my journey is about finally really believing that I am a strong enough woman that I am capable of whatever I put my mind to.

I am different. I am so different today than I was at any other point in my life. I am so different than the girl that wrote about weight-loss even 4 months ago. I had no idea how profoundly this experience would change me. I had no idea I would have my very own Bridget Jones freeze picture moment where I could pin point the exact moment where I decided to really start saying YES to myself.

With age comes wisdom. Not that I am wise, by no means am I wise, but I wouldn’t trade where I am at for a million do-overs at my twenties. I was a hot mess for sure. Happiness is a beautiful thing. True happiness is something that I can’t describe. I am sure most people have experienced it over and over in their lives. But I feel like true happiness can only really be achieved when you learn to really love and accept yourself and up until lately I have honestly never done that. No wonder so much of my life has been lived with a big old question mark around it. How could I ever really be happy with anything, with anybody, with myself when I couldn’t really accept myself?

I believe in me. I believe that I can do whatever I decide to do. I am not saying I am magic and can do anything. I certainly cannot. But I believe that anything I decide to do, if I put my mind to it, I can accomplish it. I believe I am stronger than I ever thought. I believe that I identified with all these strong female archetypes because deep down I was one of them myself. I am a fucking strong ass woman. There I said it, and I believe it.

I am a champion. I will succeed at this life, at my life and I will be happier than I ever knew was possible not because of anyone else, but because of me. Because I finally see that I am worth it.