What Doesn't Kill Me... (The Beginning of It All)

The reason I was fat/fluffy/unhealthy/gross before was simply because I was uneducated. And guaranteed that's the reason most people are overweight. But now that you're reading this don't be ignorant. (Like I am on the weekends...)

Your body is important. Extremely! I heard on the news the other day that the average person now lives to be about 79 years old. BUT we, as in us humans, have the ability to live to be about 120, IF and ONLY IF we take care of ourselves, AND our bodies. That's an extra 41 years of life to live, learn, and experience!

I used to eat whatever I wanted, my entire life was like this. I was never taught how to EAT CLEAN. I knew people went on "diets" to lose weight, but most of the time they gained it back. To me the word "diet" makes me think of restrictions and being held back, and the last thing I want to do is feel restricted.

Back to not being taught... I was pudgy my whole life also. When I joined volleyball I dropped weight, but only because I was doing some crazy plyometrics for 2+ hours A DAY. Then I'd come home and eat whatever I wanted, and finished the night off with a heaping bowl of ice cream.

At that point I was around 150lbs. As soon as volleyball ended though, I gained all the weight I lost back. I was fluctuating between 163-167 at this time. I had a low self-esteem. I was unhappy with my body and myself. I wasn't driven to do much of anything productive. I was angry, sad, and unorganized, like most teenage girls.

Insert getting married, having a baby, moving away from home, making my own life....

All the above things made me thrilled. Every second was my own. And I had a gorgeous family to show for it. Then I started on the downward spiral...

Truth is:

- You will not lose weight JUST from breastfeeding.

- You should NOT eat for two. EVER!

- Pop is NOT good for you at any point in your life.

- Staying inside all day with just a baby and a dog is NOT fulfilling.

It's hard being a stay-at-home mom. That's what I was the first year of Mickey's life. I was JUST a mom and a half-way decent wife. I was not happy. My wonderful husband I fought a lot because of my constant unhappiness (and his occasional f-ups. IT HAPPENS!).

Then the day came. When I was tired of not smiling at the girl in the mirror, fighting constantly with my husband about stupid things, getting frustrated with my daughter because I was unhappy and tired all the time.

On that day I went for a goddamn jiggle.
Yes, a jiggle. It's what 210+ lbs. people do when they try to run.
Your stride is about 6 inches long and your WHOLE BODY jiggles, in the MOST uncomfortable way.

It sucked.
It hurt.
It made me cry.
But when I got home, and my body cooled off, I felt great... Happy.

Then I cried some more.
Because I'm a female.
Hormonal.
Unreasonable.
Wonderful.
Female.

The first month of my journey sucked major butt. I hated the way I looked. Felt. Ate. So I changed it. FINALLY. It was hard on me. And my husband. It was a big change. Emotionally. And Physically.

We still fought. I still was unhappy with myself most days. But we were both trying to be better for ourselves and each other.

I started by trying to cut as many calories out of my eating habits as possible. I was starving and tired a lot which may have made matters worse, but I was losing weight. I don't know how much I lost, or how fast, in the beginning because I was AFRAID of the scale. I knew I weighed 205-210+ since I had been weighed at the doctors about 2-3 months before (207). Then I started researching. Trying new things. Adjusting the way I ate. Always experimenting.

The first time I weighed myself was in February, 1 1/2 months in. I weighed 192. I then traveled up north, worked my ass off in the gym and 2 weeks later I weighed 183.
I fought to get down to 170.
Now I'm fighting harder to get to 150.

I change the way I workout. What I eat. And the times in which I do both. I love cardio. I love weights. And I love going HARD at both. When I leave the gym my goal is to look like I got hit by a train, but still have a smile on my face. :)

Now, I don't count calories. I EAT CLEAN. Most days I cheat. And I feel uber guilty about it. But I cheat small. 1/2 cup of ice cream, not 4 cups. 2 cookies, not 10. The guilt I feel is not worth it.

Brant and I are 700x better. With each other. With our daughter. And towards other people.

My outlook on life in general has changed. Improved. And all that I have done these past 4 months hasn't been a sacrifice. I haven't felt shorted in ANY department. I am rejuvenated. I am strong and confident. I am myself.

There is no end to this journey, not until I'm in the ground. Even then I want to teach my daughter the benefits of healthy eating, exercising, and keeping your body strong. That IS something I will leave behind. I never want her to lose sight of herself. There will be days when she'll be low, unhappy, a mess, but I'll be there.

Telling her to put on your running shoes. Pound your anger, sadness, and unhappiness into the pavement. Keep your eyes on the horizon, your breathing steady, your body hydrated. And don't stop until your thoughts settle. The clouds clear and you can finally breathe again.

 

Hold On Pain Ends.