Learning to love myself…

Sweaty palms, my brain won’t shut off. I hardly slept last night, and I can hear my heart beat over Travis talking. Inside I keep saying: I’m just going to get over it, and it’s not a big deal, I’m not the worst one out there. Outside I joke: I will feel okay if I’m under 40% (bodyfat). Travis continues to tell me I’m fine, and to stop being a “freak”. But, I am such a freak. The freak that changes multiple times before leaving the house. The one looking in the mirror, in the window, in any reflection, the freak that can hardly stand the thought of showing off any part of my body. That’s the freak I am.

The one thing keeping me sane at this moment of sheer dread was knowing I was taking a step in the right direction. Right for me. Maybe it isn’t something everyone understands. Not everyone has gone to nutritional counselors the majority of their life to have someone remind them they are worthy and it’s okay to eat your food and keep it down. Not everyone understands the guilt and pain brought after the joy of a pint of ice cream. You can call me over sensitive or ridiculous, but my skin is never more thin than when we discuss my body. I praise any girl wearing shorts and fume if someone says “she shouldn’t be wearing that”…oh really…because I would give nearly anything to have half her “don’t give a fuck what you say”!

I walk in, with the nervous laughs..it’s just me, Becky, and her scale.  We talk about my food and goals and being realistic. I have known Becky a while. She’s famous around these parts, because she KNOWS nutrition, and has changed the lives of many. The scale in her office just stares at me, like it’s alive, and it knows I don’t even want to look that direction. Time to remove the layers and get down to business. Everything off but what the swimsuit would cover. I’m holding my breath…I’m actually not sure if I was breathing at all when I stepped on and off the scale. I don’t even get on a scale in front of my husband, so this part was hard. Then the measuring tape and her magic wand and poof….38.9%. Nervous laughs again because I said it…under 40%, but inside I was shocked. I guess it’s true – 6 packs are made in the kitchen…

Leaving her office I felt pretty confident with my goals…I knew I had a long way to go and I was thankful to have Travis with me, as I may have bawled all the way home otherwise.

The process over the last year has been grueling. It’s had its ups and downs. There have been a thousand times I’ve been angry or sad. I was really sick in the earlier part of the year and have had more setbacks than I can count on my two hands. Every time I’d just pull up my britches and say “that’s the last time, no more!”…but it would happen again, and again, and I’d be disappointed in myself over and over. It’s been hard to celebrate for others because I’ve been so far in my head, but I’m trying. If nothing else I know I’ve been trying.

Following Becky’s plan is easy now, because it’s the new “norm” for me. She said it best in the beginning; she is training me to create new habits. The worst part was quite literally the complete loss of my social life. Anymore you can find me at work, home or the gym. I go to family functions and try to make it to events for my nieces and nephews, but otherwise, I’m now just a weirdo home body/gym rat. I’ve had to go to the occasional restaurant and turn down French fries (OMG Red Robin Fries sound SO GOOD right now). For the most part I’ve completely quit drinking, which is fine, and I no longer get angry when other people eat in front of me. So, I call that a win. I’m not very excited about how my tastebuds have changed, but I’ll move on. Yellow Cheddar isn’t appealing to me anymore, I can hardly stand the smell of taco seasoning, and I am SICK if I even think about anything deep fried. Another win I suppose, but what ever will I do if I can’t experience another deep fried oreo as long as I live????

Getting geeked out and measuring everything has been keeping me sane. (Full disclosure, I usually don’t measure my peanut butter…two TB is never enough, and if that’s what’s keeping me from a six pack….so be it!).

I have lost over 20 inches and have nearly cut my bodyfat in half. I am fitting into things differently, and some clothes I haven’t worn in ages fit me again. I don’t always feel good when I look in the mirror, but to say I have felt good more than once is kind of a big deal. If you have ever felt the way I do, you fully understand how exciting this is…and I know there’s a large population that will understand. Notice I didn’t add how much weight I lost? Because it’s not much, and who cares! My body looks better now than it did when I weighed 15 pounds less…

The most amazing thing is how good I feel in general. I can lift heavier and faster than ever before. I have ran almost 200 miles this year and have attended 150 classes at the gym (goal is 200 for the year). I have my occasional ailments but in general my health is back on track. I’ve been around a hundred sick people and haven’t caught a cold in the last few months. My allergies seem better and my gut is so much happier. (TMI – I’m even regular!!!). I have a ways to go, but I won’t ever forget where I started, and how far I’ve come – there’s nothing more important to me than remembering these details.

I learned it’s okay that I’m doing this for myself. It’s okay if I want to have ice cream from time to time and I don’t have to kill myself over it. It’s okay if I don’t want to talk about nutrition all the time and if there are days that I hate the thought of having to have MORE MEAT AND VEGGIES. But I trudge right along through the doldrums and at the end of the day, I’m human, and I’m doing something wonderful for myself with every decision. I won’t settle. I won’t continue to read a shitty book if it sucks and if I don’t like the menu at a restaurant, I’ll leave. I wasn’t on the right path, and now I am.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: