I am pretty sure that everyone on this planet has a list of things that they would like to change about themselves. Or, at least, it makes me feel better to think that we all are in the same boat. However small that boat might be. My list began when I was around the age of eleven or twelve, the “tween” years. Not quite in the full-on awkwardness of puberty, but close enough to start seeing how I was stacking up against the other girls in my class.
I didn’t measure up.
There are many reasons why I felt this way, but the main one, and the easiest for my young brain to latch on to, was the fact that I was bigger than most of them. I have never been obese, per say, but I have always been “the big girl”. Especially when compared to my two older sisters. Never mind that my 5’10” frame would never fit into either one of there 5’6″ shadows, I was bigger, and that was all that mattered.
I look back now at pictures of me in my awkward teenage years and realized that I never was that big. But here’s what happens when you’re labeled “the big girl”. You start living up to your label. You sit on the couch and eat 5 or 6 more cookies than you should, because you are already screwed anyway. “What the hell, why not?” Shrug you’re shoulders and start thinking about what you are going to eat next, after your stomach stops feeling sick from the current binge. And here’s the kicker… over and over again, late at night, I’d sit down with pencil and paper and sketch out my plan of action. How I was going to lose 2.5 pounds a week for x amount of weeks and end up at some fabricated perfect weight for me. I remember making these “goals” up for myself on countless sunday nights in junior high. Ready to start fresh on Monday morning. Every week a plan. Every week another failure.
Years and years of failures.
When I married my college sweetheart I was the heaviest I had ever been. Sure, I had made a goal of slimming down before my wedding, but let’s just say that didn’t work out. I do not like looking at pictures from my honeymoon in Hawaii. When they should remind me of one of the happiest times in my life, they really only remind me of how out of control I was. My swollen face smiles back at me in those photographs, but there is not a lot of joy coming from within.
It really wasn’t until after I had my second daughter that things started clicking for me. A reality set in, very deep, that my life was going to be what I made of it. It wasn’t going to happen for me, but it was going to happen to me, whether I liked it or not. Might as well have a little control, then. Another huge motivation for me was the fact that not one, but both of my parents had become diagnosed with Type II diabetes. I had a target as large as a chicken fried steak on my back, or rather, backside. Something, a lot of things, had to change. And preferably, before I turned 30 ; )
So here I am, a couple of years later. I am about 35 pounds lighter, and I have completed several 5k races. I feel much better about myself, but I am realizing more and more that this is not enough. I am ready to get to the next level. Plenty of thoughts have been stirring around my head, so I have started this blog in order to give them all a place to rest.
My husband and I are going to kick start ourselves again into healthier eating my “eating clean” this week http://www.eatcleandiet.com/ The week will be full of green veggies, brown rice, oatmeal, and lean proteins. It was a good jump start a few months ago, the first time we did it. Maybe I can quickly lose those 5 pounds I stress ate these last few weeks!
I have so many things that I want to write about, so many things that I want to do. I also have some major fitness goals that I’m tossing around. I’m not ready to share them yet, because that would kind of be committal on my part, but just know they are out there.
Time to go to bed. This was kinda fun though. I look forward to doing it again tomorrow. ‘Night.