Jumping into Focus 

When I first started working out, everything hurt SO BAD and I hardly felt like I could get through 30 minutes of exercise. 

Everything made me winded.  

Everything seemed awkward.

Everything seemed uncomfortable, physically and emotionally.  

I was constantly tugging my shirt down, or pulling my pants up. Rigidly self-conscious and nervous, on top of physically uncomfortable. I understand on a deep and personal level why people join a gym and never want to step back in there…because I lived it. It is terrifying and humiliating. Even if you are fortunate enough to be surrounded by the right people who won’t let you quit or give up, it’s such an exhausting experience for your body and your heart, and it takes guts to keep going despite it all.  

One of the first movements my trainer introduced me to was step ups. I had to hold onto TRX straps to help me step up onto the single step, and then back down to the turf.  20 steps on each side got my heart rate up instantly and it took awhile for that to get easier for me. Now that I am a couple years into my journey, those first fundamental movements I learned have gotten MUCH easier, and I’ve moved on to more and more things that I am able to do.  

Last week I discovered that I am capable of jumping!!  For anyone who is overweight, especially “morbidly obese” as I have been, we know that JUMPING is not on the menu.  
Like, ever.
And if I’m being honest, I have avoided jumping movements for a long time out of fear.  
We had some box jumps to do during our new group training sessions, and I didn’t want to let all the other peeps down in the group by not even trying to see if I could do the jump. It was low enough to the ground where I didn’t feel like if I failed, I couldn’t recover gracefully.  
So, I did it.  
I jumped. I landed on the thing. Hopped down, and did it again.  
It was SO FUN!!! I will NEVER grow tired of learning what more and more I am capable of. Being able to LIVE life and do these things is why I have fallen in love with this process.  

That is the magic of fitness.   

BEING ABLE.

But sometimes I forget that.  

Sometimes that gets blurred by something negative, dark and gross that sneaks into my head and clouds my vision, and I lose focus. 

Today, while getting to workout with one of my favorite peeps, I was trying to show off my box jumps! I did 4-5 in a row and he challenged me to add on one more level. I knew I could do it, so I did! He filmed it for me because I wanted to share my newfound skill with the world! 

We finished our workout and I headed to my car to watch the video, anxious to put it on my Instagram as my new NSV (non scale victory).  
My heart sank.  
All I could see was my body through polluted vision.  I watched it 2-3 times and thought, “Well, I can’t put this up. I look so BIG, my skin is all loose, jiggly and hanging. Is this what I REALLY look like? Ugh. Nope.” And I threw my phone in my purse.  

I ran around and did some grocery shopping and errands and before I headed back home, I checked my phone and low and behold, my camera roll popped up. The last picture that I took on my phone before my box jump video this morning, was of an affirmation that my support group ladies had come up with last week as our mantra. I had posted it as an encouragement and reminder to everyone:

“I have one body and I am worth the effort.”

But as I sat I my car, the message pierced my heart and  hit home once again…FOR ME.   

Everything came right back into sharp focus.
That knee jerk reaction we have as women to see ourselves and instantly cringe and HATE what we see is what fogs our joy. 

 Here I am, with this strong, amazing body that has been through hell and carries me every day through my life, jumping with ease and landing on things like a boss…and I’ve got the audacity to think it ugly?! 

No.

I will not lose focus. 
 Just because I don’t “look a certain way” yet, does not mean I haven’t changed. Just because my body jiggles doesn’t mean I’m not fit.  Just because I’m not a certain size or weight doesn’t mean I’m not successful.  Just because I’m not where I want to be yet, doesn’t mean I can’t be proud.  

I refuse to continue to do this to myself. 

For those of you who are just starting and everything seems to hurt, and feel pointless…please don’t give up. Please don’t allow that darkness to creep in. I promise if you keep going, it will get better and better and BETTER.  
As a reminder to myself, I looked up my post from when I first started my journey,
(https://mandimonblog.wordpress.com/2014/12/05/update-of-the-year/).
And I will continue to remind myself how far I’ve come, because I have one body! And, it is worth the effort! 

Let me paint you a picture…

I have a small gallery of canvas paintings from various “Paint & Sip” nights growing on my dining room wall.  
You know what I’m talking about right?


You pick the painting online that you and 5 of your friends agree  would be a good one to attempt to copy.  You pick the date and gather at said place…anticipating FUN and a night out with your girlfriends!  Lets be real, this is a modern day quilting circle, but with alcohol, and we all LOVE IT.  And in theory, you order drinks and excitedly sit down for a few hours of some much deserved (and expensive!) creative fellowship.  If all goes well, you’ll have a beautiful, medium sized piece of original art on canvas to take home and wow your family with.

Right?

I proudly bring them home and hang them all in one place, because they don’t match and I obviously don’t take my decorating too seriously.  They look ridiculous, but I think its hilarious and “my gallery” ALWAYS starts conversations.  I have a blooming, swirly tree, a glorious ocean wave breaking at sunset, and my most recent addition: a majestic winter stag standing in falling snow amidst wintry trees.

My sister and I went with some friends last week to this holiday themed paint and sip night.   We settled in with our drinks and got ready to begin.  I looked around before we began, trying to make conversation and jokes with the women around me. ( I drive my sister nuts when we go out in public because I always like to talk to everyone!)

This particular painting venue I hadn’t been to before.  I noticed immediately it was in a nicer part of town, and since I had to go there directly from a full day at work at the gym, I felt a little “under dressed” amidst all the other women who seemed perfectly dressed and accessorized.  It didn’t matter, we were all wearing the same dang paint splattered aprons and managed to break the ice while waiting for the instruction to begin.  It’s not hard for a room full of women to start to talk to each other within minutes and settle into a comfortable vibe with each other.

Pretty soon, all of us ladies were offering up commentary on what was happening on all of our different canvases. By the sounds of things it was getting pretty rough in there. Slowly, I became very aware of all the little nasty, negative things that were being said.  And once it started, it seemed to catch on like a wild fire across the room.

“I can’t mix this color to look right. Yours looks so good, mine is so ugly! Looks like vomit.”

“These trees are terrible. I cant even draw a strait line! I knew I couldn’t do this. I cant even paint trees. If they were real trees we’d have to cut them down.”

“My deer is so fat! He looks so stupid. I just ruined mine!”

“My deer looks anorexic. It doesn’t even look like a deer!! I may as well paint black over this and start over.”

 

You get the idea.

 

The saddest part is, that everything being said was in a very “light hearted” way.

Joking. Not taking it too “seriously”.

And yet…I knew better.

“THIS IS WHAT WE DO TO OURSELVES.” I thought.

“We as women…this is what we do. We dress nice, we show up, we have the best intentions, and then we slowly rip ourselves to shreds with a smile on our face.”

Despite being beautiful, stylish and seemingly put together women…the urge to surrender to that deep self loathing that haunts most of us, showed up and robbed some of us of good memories and $45 dollars.  Some of us were absolutely miserable.  Didn’t seem to be enjoying  the experience at all.  I’m not really sure why this grabbed me so strongly  on this night, but it just seemed  so extreme and so alarming…It made me feel so sad.

It also made me feel grateful that  I no longer live imprisoned to doubt.  I may not yet be where I want to be, yet..but I KNOW that I am able.  Even if it takes me 5 years.  Even if I don’t lose lose one more pound.  I know that I am changed.  If I surrender to that loathing…I don’t stay there for long.

I CAN’T!

If there is one thing that I know FOR SURE about fitness…it’s that it shows you how CAPABLE you are.  Once you learn that you can push yourself beyond what you ever imagined…you feel UNSTOPPABLE.  Not just in the gym, but in LIFE.

The way you start to think about yourself and talk about yourself starts to change.  You start to appreciate yourself and your body.  You start to show kindness to yourself the way you do with your friends.

I had the strongest urge to stand on the table and yell, “COME WITH ME IF YOU WANT TO LIVE!”  Which is ironic because I was most likely still one of the biggest women in the room.  I know that most people would assume by looking at me, that I would be the woman with the least amount of confidence in that room.  Appearances are so deceiving. 

To people who don’t know me or where I’ve started from,  I’m just a funny and fat lady.   They don’t know what I can lift, or how long I can sprint, or how many burpees I can do, or how I feel when I’m able to run freely with my kids. They don’t know how hard I’ve fought for the confidence I’ve gained.  And they don’t realize that they can have it too.

I wish all women could tap into that source of strength that is buried deep down within all of our hearts and LIVE THERE.

That strength that we all have that keeps us going when we want to quit.

That will and faith to make things happen when all seems impossible.

That drive that pushes us MAKE IT HAPPEN when our loved ones need us to come through?

That strength, and fierce love that I know burns in the heart of every woman?

There’s enough of that in there for you to spend on yourself too!

In fact, its crucial that we do.

We can’t let the next generation of women who are watching us, see us and hear us do this to ourselves anymore.  We have to stop this cycle.  It’s the same thing that we’ve inherited from our mothers and grandmothers about having our picture taken.  Why do we all cringe and hate having our picture taken?  Like nobody knows what we look like?! We must be in the pictures!! We must DO the things without tearing ourselves down! Why is this so hard for us?! 

I didn’t know I had that love in there for ME until I met her in the gym and saw that she was worthy.  Sometimes I still forget, and I fall into that trap of doubting and loathing…but am so grateful for these kind of reminders in my life to show me how far I’ve come.

It’s just like these dang paintings we’re all paying to make.

You’re not going to get it exactly like someone else’s.  Yours will have its own flair.  Not every line is going to be strait, or every curve just right.   You’re going to mess up, and it might not look the way  you want it to…but it’s beautiful because its yours.

OWN IT GIRL.

(P.S. This must be shared: As in life…when in a room of 57 winter stags, my sister emerged as a brooding and beautiful storm on an ocean.  Her painting has also been pictured here, and proudly hangs in the bottom right of my gallery.) 

 

Fat Chick at a Fitness Conference 

Last week I was on a once in a lifetime trip to New York for the annual Anytime Fitness conference.  

I say again, F-I-T-N-E-S-S conference. 

Never in my wildest daydreams would I have ever thought that this would be my life. And certainly people who’ve known me a long time would agree. It’s wild times for me, for sure. When I first started this blog in 2013 I was so lost. I had no ideas about where I was headed. All I knew is that I was in pain and writing helped. I knew I needed to change, but I did not know how or where to start.  
Fast forward to September 2016, and here is my view from the lodge I stayed at in Lake Placid…as a fitness professional.  

What do I want to say about my experience last week? 
How do I begin? Where do I start? 
Do I start with the amazing and surreal sights and sounds of my 24 hours in New York City, before we headed up state?  
Do I dig deep into my wanna-be-writer soul and try to describe how magical and soul stirring it was to be in the Olympic village at Lake Placid, where our conference was held? In the actual ice rink where the “miracle on ice” happened in 1980, one of the biggest sports upsets of all time?
Do I start with the intense gratitude I have for my boss’s, my team, my gym members, my friends, my family, my babies and my husband??? For everything everyone’s done to provide for me, inspire me, push me and encourage me to get to this awesome point in time of my life? 
No.
I’ll start with the REAL, less impressive, corners of my heart. That place deep down in the bellows of your guts that threatens to show up and ruin everything you’ve worked hard for with just a few seeds of doubt and shame. Yes, I’ll start there. Because it doesn’t matter where I’m at, or what I’m doing…when the mind starts traveling down that road of negative thinking, nothing else matters. And I know we’ve all been there. 

You see, I’m still fat. Forget that I’ve lost 111lbs. To people who don’t know me, I’m still obese. 288 pounds is still ALOT. And that’s the number I carried around with me, and stuffed into airplane seats and restaurant chairs and yoga workout pants while I was gone.  
My body is in this weird, middle earth realm of being smaller, stronger and more effiencient…but also (with weight still to lose) still big, and jiggly.  And with the weight loss I’ve had, I’m starting to have skin droop and sag. It’s just the way it is.  There’s no getting around that, I’d rather have that to deal with then where I was at before.  

I know it’s TMI, but I’m just keeping it real people. This is the real life account of my “extreme weight loss” and it’s not all unicorns and rainbows!! Some of this is really weird and hard and I understand now why it must take so long to truly transform!! It is a grueling process and the mind takes time to catch up with the changes of your body and vice versa.  

Ultimately, my goal is health and FEELING good, and be able to actively live my life.  So, the cosmetic stuff doesn’t really bother me.  Especially when I’m in my bubble where everyone knows me! 

Here at home, everyone at our gyms knows ME. They know my story.  They’ve seen me work out.  They know what I’m capable of, and I walk around with complete confidence in my leadership there.  That is why I was unprepared for how my insecurity would start to creep in and feel at our conference.  

Being in a group of hundreds (at least 1,000?) trainers and fitness professionals who didn’t know me left me feeling pretty vulnerable.  But I know better!!! I kept telling myself that this is what all of these people are passionate about! Not one person was rude to me or weird to me! The battle was all within my head.  Which leads me to my triumphant moment friends.  You knew there would be one! 

The Saturday afternoon before we left, there was a group workout planned so that we could attempt to break three world records. The records we attempted were the most people doing a simultaneous 1 minute plank, 1 minute of squats and 1 minute of jumping jacks.  The squats and the planks I was not worried about.  But I have NEVER done unmodofied jumping jacks becuase I can’t jump on my feet! The pounding is too hard and my body so heavy.  But, in order to qualify for the world record, each person has to do a perfect, unmodofied version of each exercise without stopping for the full minute.  

It was a conundrum.  

I DID NOT WANT TO DO THIS.  I was silently agonizing over having to do it.  Worried I would fail miserably.  Do I sit out? Do I let my team down and refuse to do this workout that will surely end in my shame and humiliation? Do I surrender to that nagging negative voice that had been pestering me the whole time we were there, saying you DONT BELONG HERE? 

Well first of all, my team wouldn’t have let me sit out so that wasn’t an option.  And secondly, I thought about all of my people!! All of my members at my gym at home who love me and whom I feel in some small way I represent.  I decided I’d try my best for THEM.  And so I did. And you know what? I was able to do all three.


LONGEST three minutes of my life, but I did it.  I could do it all along.  And in that three minutes it didn’t matter what my body looks like or all my dumb feelings…all I knew is that I had DONE THE THING.  

One of the best feelings of my life, I’ll never forget it.  I was so proud of myself for not surrending to that old mindset that would have robbed me of being a part of breaking world records with my team.  After the workout, the trainer who was leading us from up front ran down to the grass and created a huddle with us all around.  He yelled,”Do you feel that?! This is why we do what we do. It’s magical! It’s tangible!” And I broke down and finally cried.  

But, tears of joy! 

It doesn’t matter who knows what about me.  I know how far I’ve come and am excited about where I’m going.  And it’s been announced that next years conference is in Palm Springs. 🙂 

Practice What You Preach 

I want to wake up on time. 

The first time my alarm goes off, because I’m just THAT ambitious. 

Not on the ninth snooze. 

I want fresh hot coffee, a warm blanket, and plenty of time to spend in prayer/meditation and journaling before my day begins. Being a woman who is intentional about my thoughts and emotions…and THEN conquering my days responsibilities as an active and healthy working woman, running an orderly and efficient home.  

I want to set a positive tone for my kids and husband’s day and be present and emotionally available to them.  

I want to continue to prioritize the right time to workout and conquer my fitness goals and continue to watch my body change and grow stronger, while also eating food that makes me feel awesome and alive, not heavy and full of guilt.   

I want to continue to grow into my new position at my job with the same fiery passion burning in my heart everyday, that continually builds such a feeling of satisfaction and gratitude of being a part of changing people’s lives, that I CANT WAIT to get back there everyday.  

While somehow creating a sanctuary for my family to come home to, where dinner is planned, prepped and ready. Where laundry is kept up, and everyone knows where their socks and underwear are. Where the homework folders are not lost, but completed and signed and in the backpacks for the next day. Where everyone reads for a leisurely 20 minutes before bed without fighting. Where the sleep we get is deep and restorative because we aren’t worried about finances and repairs, and conflicts with people and obligations and burdens because we are—

Wait.  

Yep.

I basically want to BE Oprah. 

Okay, okay, this is NOT quite my daily reality just yet, but these are truly my personal goals, and adjusting to being a working mom recently, has not come without its wrinkles to iron out. All of my friends who have been working moms this whole time?!?! 

I SALUTE YOU.  

I am lucky and blessed to report that my children are champions and are stepping up to their responsibilities with great effort. I’m so proud of them, and they seem to be really proud of their mom having a job too, which is pretty cool. As well as my husband, who is blowing my mind with his constant support and additional help around our house. He is my biggest fan and am so lucky to have him spurring me on to reach for my goals. 

That being said…this journey is still SO HARD.  It’s hard to not get stuck in my head, with old negative thinking.  Even after a year and half of dedicated exercise and mindful eating, it’s hard to keep focused.   And it will continue to be hard. Because I’m not going back to “easy”.  

THIS is the exact reason I started the support group at our gym, because to stay this course, you need support.  I’m not some chick who has this all figured out!! NO WAY!! I am practicing what I’m preaching, striving to hold onto everything I’m learning, just like everyone else.  We are in this thing together! And I’m glad, without you I would have quit! Lol. 

THIS IS NOT EASY. 

So many women who try to make a healthy change in their lives, get overwhelmed and give up, because somedays you’re just out here trying to survive. Driving little people around to where they need to be, trying to make everything happen for everyone else leaves little time to put toward bettering and being good to yourself. And honestly, most days there’s nothing left over and “easy” is all we’re interested in. I get it! 
But “easy” is a lie. It robbed me of knowing all that I was capable of for a long time. This path I’m on is hard, and some days it feels like it’s all in vain and pointless…but I know it’s not. I am stronger. I see changes. I feel ALIVE. It is absolutely worth it.  
It’s EASY to set ourselves off to the side, especially when life gets crazy, 

But we are worth MORE than what comes easy!! 

So, here’s to all of you lady beasts out there, making it ALL happen in your lives. Doing the hard work, keeping your commitment to yourself, getting back on track after you fall, pushing through even when it hurts, waking up to the first morning alarm…all so that you can be the best version of you you can be, for the people who love and count on you.  

  

 

 

Restroom of Reverence 

The day I signed up for my gym membership I couldn’t get back in my car and drive away fast enough. I actually told the woman behind the desk (who has since become a dear friend) to hurry, before I changed my mind! I knew the next day would be the real test…to actually come into the gym with the intention to exercise.  
The next morning, I went back and forth between groaning with fear or yelling affirmations at myself while driving in my truck, in an attempt to get hyped enough to actually go inside. My plan was to walk for 30 minutes on the treadmill. That would be easy enough, right? I’ve walked longer than that at Disneyland, this would be an easy way to start. I can do 30 minutes! 

I walked for ALMOST 11 minutes.  

At a 2.0 mph pace, it was agony. My feet were swollen and felt heavy. My shirt kept riding up my belly and I was tugging it down and wrangling with it every 15 seconds, making me wildly agitated and self-conscious. My chest burned immediately from the activity, 395 pounds pounding down with each step took its toll. In that moment, I was faced with the reality of what I had let myself become and how HARD this was actually going to be. I was already winded, sweaty and beet red.
Those eleven minutes felt like an eternity.  
I pushed the “pause” button on the treadmill and let it slow to a stop. As calmly and casually as I could, I walked over to the restroom and couldn’t wait to hide behind the sanctuary of the closed and locked door (we have private bathrooms/showers at my gym). I sank down onto the bench against the wall and burst into tears while pulling out my phone to call my husband at work.  
“Hello?” He answered. 
“Omg. Babe. I cannot do this. What have I done? I’m so embarrassed. I only did 10 minutes, I hurt so bad…I don’t belong here…I don’t know what I was thinking………” 
He listened to me, and let me cry. Let me spiral. Then he responded with tenderness and encouragement, and kept reminding me over and over that I HAD to start somewhere. He was proud of me for going. Tomorrow I should try to add one more minute. I did awesome. He would see me after work. He loved me. I had calmed down and caught my breath enough to say goodbye. I loved him too. Thanked him for believing in me. Hung up the phone and wiped my face. Took a few deep breaths to gather the courage I’d need to walk out of that bathroom and through the gym to get to my truck. 

Today I cleaned that same bathroom as an employee of Anytime Fitness. 
  

 I am honored to report that after a year and a half of dedication to my workouts, falling in love with the staff and trainers of my gym, being allowed to start and lead a support group to empower myself and other members on similar journeys, I have been officially hired, part time, as a part of the team. 
 UN. REAL. 
This first week has been all about training and those “first week” things that you typically learn when you start a new job, like the cleaning procedures. But my experience as I cleaned that bathroom today was not typical.  
It was…almost…holy.
I was in absolute awe of how far I’ve come since that first eleven minutes on the treadmill. I just stopped and thanked God. Gratitude is all I have. As I sit here writing this I can’t even gather the words. It would sound redundant anyway. I’ve said it hundreds of times, I’ve lost weight, but I have gained the world. And I still have an uncharted journey ahead! 

My life has changed this week. My family’s life has changed. In the state I was in before, I could not even be considered for a job. This is a new chapter. I am beyond thrilled and excited for what it will bring. I am honored to be joining a team of people who truly care about impacting and changing people’s lives. I look forward to someday sitting across the desk from someone who is scared to death to sign up and take that first step toward new life, and tell them my story.  
In the meantime, while I’m cleaning bathrooms, it won’t be lost on me what a sacred space they are.  

A private refuge where some come face to face with themselves, for the first time like I did. Taking a moment to catch their breath or battle doubts and limitations…maybe even crying, then gathering the courage and determination to go back out and finish. I know it sounds lame, but I’m convinced that I’m not the only person who has let themselves unravel behind those doors. It’s a sacred place in there.

Moral of the story? NEVER GIVE UP.   
To those of you who’ve been reading along on my blog and following my journey this long…thank you from the bottom of my heart. The support and accountability this has been for me is priceless.  
 

When in doubt…

  
I’ve lost 72 pounds so far.  

It has been hard, slow, grueling and laden with ups and downs. There are times I feel I’ve reached a stand still because my expectations for where I’d be by now have not been met. 
I have had great days. Amazing days!!! I have had awesome workouts and have enjoyed perfectly clean and homemade healthy meals.  
I have also had crappy days, embarrassing and sluggish workouts. And I admit, in moments of weakness, I’ve stuffed my face with cheap pizza and cake and crap more times than I wanna say. It happens. This is real life. 

It feels like with every victory I have in this season, I self sabotage twice as hard. I still doubt myself and underestimate my worthiness and capability.  

But, each time I fall, I seem to learn a bit more, gain something new and just keep pressing forward. There is no other option at this point. I’ve tasted the life I’m chasing after, and I will not be stopped.  

The discipline I have had to learn and apply in fitness, carries over into the rest of my life as a wife and mom. In running our family and household, I am more active, more involved and more ALIVE.  

There is a certain kind of confidence that is built in training that cannot be earned anywhere else. I didn’t understand this mindset from the outside. I used to make fun of people like me. Roll my eyes and call them “obsessed”.  

But I get it now.  

It isn’t until you step into it and commit, that you realize that others who’ve made a commitment to health and fitness aren’t just “health freaks” or “gym rats”.  

It’s about embracing a wholistic wellness as a human being. Taking care of the one body you have.  Learning to love yourself and care for yourself as a person, as you learn to take care of your body. So that you may be the best you can be for your friends and family. Living life to the fullest. 

 It’s about believing you can do hard things, and endure hard things, and stand being uncomfortable for awhile when things get hard. It’s about the accomplishment and relief and power that washes over you at the end of each workout that has you leaving the gym ready to conquer whatever life will bring your way next.  
There are no short cuts. The struggle cannot be skipped or avoided. It hurts, and most of the time just plain sucks. But I’m not watching life happen around me anymore.  

I’m trying things. 

I’m doing things. 

I’m learning to push past fear. 

I know I am not the same.  

Fat chick attempting to kayak

Even after a life changing year, huge strides in my physical abilities and strength, 70 pounds lost (so far) and a new lease on life and fitness gained…I am still fat. 

Yep. Still fat. 

When I leave the comfortable bubble that is my home where my husband loves me and treats me like Beyonce, or my supportive and amazing gym where I am treated like a rock star, I still have to live in the real world where I am still obese and have 100 more pounds to lose. It can be jarring to feel my baby confidence that has just taken flight, crash to the ground where I have to find the will to try and build it up again. The old me never saw the point.  

My pesky social anxiety sneaks back in at times and starts to whisper in my ear…”You’re still the same. You don’t belong here. Who do you think you are?” 

 And the paranoia of wondering if the people at another table are snickering at me and my “bigness” trying desperately to melt into normalcy, praying no one will consider me a target for a good joke? 

Still happens. 

 I’m learning to not let these things be the TRUTH about who I am anymore. Strangers who don’t know me or all I’ve accomplished on my journey do not get to be the “sayers” of who I am.  

The tragedy is when I tear my confidence down MYSELF.  
WHY DO WE SO THIS TO OURSELVES? HOW CAN WE LEARN TO BE KIND TO OUR OWN SELF? 
This is the biggest lesson I’m trying to learn right now.  

Yesterday, I went on a kayaking trip with my gym friends. Having never participated in any “outdoorsy” type of adventure, I took a leap of faith and tried. I was scared to death and exhilarated all at the same time, praying the life jacket would buckle, (check)…praying I would be able to get in the kayak and not break it (check)…praying I wouldn’t slow everyone down and be a terrible nuisance (check, I hope). 
When I finally managed to get the hang of it and not fear wobbling and sinking to my death in the middle of the lake, I silently and privately rejoiced and thanked God. Here I was still 300ish pounds DOING THE DANG THANG. Such a cool feeling, to allow yourself to be proud of what you were able to overcome.

And then….THE PICTURES. 

FML if pictures aren’t gonna be the death of me and all of my efforts.  

How is it that seeing myself in pictures from this beautiful day almost ruined my entire night, and put me in such a funk that I actually had to step back and check myself? 

I was so disappointed that I didn’t look in those pictures the way that I FELT. 

And you know what? 

WHO CARES? 

I have an incredible life. God has given me a second chance at living by blessing me with the strength and dedication to change my life. I’ll get to where I need to be…in the meantime? How dare I have anything but gratitude for this body I have and/or its reflection? 

So here I am, in a kayak. 

  

I don’t want skinny. I want ABLE.

  
The past couple of weeks I have been in a slump. While I have been keeping up with my workouts, I have been eating out of bounds and those tiny allowances started to stack up and show themselves.  
Pretty soon, I started feeling those old, negative thoughts and feelings start to take over. Not wanting to backslide into my old ways, I did some some soul searching.  
I’ll confess that I had an expectation to be down 100lbs by now, and since I’m only down 65lbs  I started pouting and doubting.  Risking all my progress because I didn’t get what I wanted. Throwing a fit like a big, prideful baby. 

Wtf? 

When I began writing this blog in 2013, it was in “the pursuit of a meaningful makeover”. I wanted to make a change in my life but didn’t know where to start, and I didn’t want it to be focused on JUST a number on a scale.  So I started typing.  Writing has always come naturally to me and been a therapeutic friend.  

I named the blog “Realology” because I wanted to be REAL in the study and discovery of myself, after being lost so long to depression and the LIE of who I thought I was, or was supposed to be.  

I had an EXPECTATION in my mind of what a good Christian woman, wife and mother was supposed to be and look like. After years of “trying” and falling short, (of the EXPECTATION!) and the subsequent feelings of failure and self loathing that led me to gain an extra 200lbs on my body…I reached my bottom. 

Since then, I have struggled to untie spiritual, relational, and personal knots in my heart and focus on my faith instead of all my fears.  

It hasn’t been easy at all. 

This has not been a slow and steady marathon. 

 
This has been a rugged, off road, uphill trek for my life.

 
There has been blood, sweat and many tears.  

Many shameful moments of backsliding and stumbling.  

Moments of pure embarrassment and inadequacy.  

I have also dragged myself through thick fear, doubt, jealousy, pride, and self pity.  

But I didn’t quit. 

By the grace of God, I kept going. 

I’m not at the top. Still climbing. 

Who knows when I will get there? 

Who cares?

“EXPECTATIONS are premeditated disappointments”.

Once again, I find myself surrendering my expectations. Letting go, and trusting LOVE, instead of fear.   

In a few days I will be celebrating my one year of fitness milestone. On August 22nd of last year I walked through the doors of my gym and my life has changed dramatically.

I refuse to be be disappointed because of a number.  What I’ve gained and lost can’t be measured.  

I don’t want skinny. I want able. 

That is my new mantra. My battle cry for the next year ahead of me.   Yes, I want the weight loss, but I want to RUN.  I want to JUMP. I want to DO the things I can’t yet do.  I want to be ABLE. 

I’m already able to do so much more than I thought possible.  I can’t wait to see what’s ahead. 
Thank you for going on this journey with me, and for all of the support.  It has been a true gift. 

It’s gonna be a good year 

Last year around my birthday I wrote a poem called “Reining it in”.  
I remember exactly how I felt writing it. I had just returned from working at church camp and had gone from feeling pretty good about myself for getting through it, to spiraling into self loathing. My binge eating was out of control and my weight was the highest it had ever been in my life.  
My body was in pain, everything hurt and the only thing that was consistent was the urge to sleep.  

I could feel myself slipping back into a dark place of depression and I was trying really hard to be strong and pull back. I thought making myself sit down and be intentional about writing down how it felt would help me and be cathartic. This poem emerged and was an honest look at myself inside and out.  

 I didn’t know it then, but this was the beginning of “thinking about what I was thinking about” and changing the way I live my life.  
Here is an excerpt from that poem: 

“The hardest thing about being a realist is that you’re really only a pessimist in disguise.
To halt myself from traveling down the familiar gloomy tracks and force instead a stroll down a brighter path…
Well, I’m more comfortable sitting in the shade.
My disappointment hangs from my body,
heavy and always inconvenient.
Protecting me from pain but hard to
ignore…and if I’m being honest it only makes it worse.
But I am told to be in the light as He is in the light…
and I was.
Spent the fullness of time feeling welcomed and alive.
Now here we are again, and back to being the last resort.
Wasn’t quite ready to come home to the norm.
I have amends to make and bridges to burn, like calories…and we all know how good I am at that.
Frames and galleries of words that crowd my heart, and the space is getting limited in these chambers.
Bolted with hardware and welded to my arteries. 
This kind of blockage requires a skilled surgeon. 


Blood pumping through paths I’ve carved out to survive.
A masterpiece.

A bypass of emotion.
Today is a new day that has been made for my gain,
taking a new route and a fresh way.
I will choose gratitude.
What other choice do I have?” 

The heaviness and “congestion” I was suffering from was physical, mental and spiritual. I had spent a lifetime “eating” up my emotions and trying not to FEEL THE FEELINGS. I really had reached my bottom. I felt like I was either going to make a change or die this way. 

Since last summer my life has shifted dramatically, but it didn’t seem that way every day, until looking back on it now.  
Every day I was (and am still!) presented with a choice: believe in the commitment I made to myself and my family? 
Believe I could change and WAS changing?  
Believe that where I had no strength to continue, God would give it to me? 
Believe that when I fell off the wagon, He would set me back on? 
Believe that my body was strong and getting stronger, even when it felt like I could NOT do more? 

Or…

Believe it was impossible and slip back into what I’d always done? Numbing myself with food and trying desperately to not feel all the pain I was causing myself? 
  

Today is my birthday and I have had the rare privilege of being able to say that I have been given a second chance at living life. The life I was meant to live. I’m officially down 60 pounds. I work out 6 days a week and I actually enjoy being there and seeing my hard work pay off and my body gain strength and endurance. I’ve been allowed to start and lead a support group at my amazing gym, to build community with people who are starting their own health journey.  
I’ve been back to camp and was amazed by how much more I could do and how much more like myself I felt, not being at war against my body anymore. I’ve had the honor of being an example to not only my own children but also to youth kids who’ve seen me make a change over this past year. It feels amazing to be able to show them that this kind of freedom is possible.  
Freedom from self abuse and self hate. Freedom to FEEL THE FEELINGS! I’ve learned that being sad, or disappointed or stressed won’t kill me. It’s how we manage and deal with the feelings that makes us or breaks us.
Looking forward to what this next year has for me! From where I’m sitting, it can only get better and better! 

Boomshakalaka.

20150513-135702-50222401.jpg

Today is the first time I’ve really looked at a side by side pic and thought, “Holy s#%$! This is actually happening.”

The pic on the left was taken in December of last year. Since then, I’ve had 6 months of ups and downs. Days where I’ve felt invincible and days where I’ve wanted to quit because it all seemed worth less.

The easy part of this whole thing has turned out to be the ACTUAL exercise. Don’t get me wrong!! It’s HARD. But, the body is AMAZING and responds immediately to movement. My strength and endurance has been the one and only thing that I’ve noticed getting better and better every single week.

The HARD part, has been focusing on those victories and staying positive. The MENTAL work of this has been the hardest. Keeping clarity on what to eat everyday and not making lame exceptions to eat crap that will make me feel like crap. Not allowing myself to slack on logging my food on my fitness pal, and being HONEST on there…even on terrible days. Not allowing any room for feeling sorry for myself on days when I kept waiting for some drastic number to show up on the scale. Or, expecting my pant sizes to radically drop, and feeling disappointed when they hadn’t.

The old me would have given up 9 times by now.
The old me would have offered herself some way to excuse herself from the commitment. The old me would have justified that the pain of working out was not worth it without any tangible results.
The old me would have felt sorry for herself and soothed herself with food binges and a “screw it” attitude for weeks before getting sick of herself and declaring a “new start” once again!

The old me had resigned to just being a fat person.
I had accepted it as my roll in life. (No pun intended 😉) I didn’t think I was worthy of being someone who could be healthy and truly in love with life. How could anyone be happy when their heart if filled with despair?

My humor and loud personality over compensated for how miserable I really was for years. I hid behind being loud and funny so that I could be comfortable in social situations. It was a survival method I had used since the 7th grade. I figured out how to be “the funny girl” so that I wasn’t just “the fat girl”. Making fun of myself before anyone else could. Always appearing to be casual and confident, all the while literally being disgusted with myself well into my adulthood.

Hey, I’m all for body positivity and for big girls like me, learning how to truly love themselves!! But, hear ye: there is NO SUCH THING AS A FAT GIRL WHO LOVES BEING FAT. I’m glad that the media and our culture in general is starting to accept the fact that big girls are pretty and want to wear pretty clothes and be models. That’s awesome! But I guarantee you that if any one of these big girls could trade in their body for a healthier and more athletic one that could run and play and DO…each one would in a heart beat. Anyone who would argue with me on that is lying. Being fat and overweight is miserable. It is hard physically, emotionally and spiritually. It leaves you open to all kinds of public judgement and ridicule. And obviously, it puts your health at risk for a long list of problems, ailments and diseases. No, I won’t celebrate being “fat and fabulous”. I celebrate being strong and capable of being the BEST version of myself I can be.

I’m a big girl, and I’m proud of all that I’ve been able to accomplish while still being big. I’ve bad to work twice as hard and be twice as dedicated to my health to get to where I am now, and I’m still a big girl! But it sure feels good to be able to DO. It feels good to MOVE.
It feels good to be genuinely confident with myself and not have to rely on my personality or hide behind jokes.

So, to all of us ladies battling the urge to give up??
I started this journey only a few pounds shy of 400lbs. There has been no magic. No pill or drink or special diet. It has been the day in and day out attempt to try, and CHOOSE life. I’ve stayed true to my commitment to my husband and babies and to myself. The hard work is starting to pay off.

For all of us who’ve at one time or another, caught a glimpse of ourselves in the reflection of a store window while walking through a parking lot…and immediately felt that heart plunge of shame with what we see? This post is dedicated to you.

For all of us who have sought comfort in our cars, eating drive thru food, hating ourselves more and more with every secret bite and feeling hopeless to change? This post is for you.

For all of us who’ve cried trying to squeeze into our jeans, or cried alone in our closets trying to find something suitable to wear to a wedding or other special event…this post is for you.

For every one of us who’s lacing up her shoes and trying to muster the confidence to step into a gym, or go walk around the block, or try a beginners yoga class for the first time? This is for you!

For every one of us that is choosing a salad instead of a burger and fries.

Water instead of a glass of wine.

Walking instead of driving.

Believing instead of doubting.

Loving instead of hating.

We CAN DO THIS.

KEEP GOING.

Previous Older Entries

>>New adventure<<

&andshelivedhappilyeverafter

ultimatemindsettoday

A great WordPress.com site

Lipstick and Laundry

Celebrating Imperfection One Pile at a Time

WRITE TO LIVE

A collection of words to spice your existence by KAYO LOGUN

Anthony Hymn

Thoughts, Feelings, and Rhythms.

Kelsey L. Munger

writer. storyteller.

STORYTELLING REVIVAL

ORAL STORYTELLING BROUGHT BACK TO LIFE!

Pew Theology

Faith | Life | Society

KURT★BRINDLEY

WRITER★EDITER★PRODUCER★CONSULTANT

Dana's Journey

Who you are today does not determine your tomorrow.

Operation Fat Removal

Lots of Kettlebell and a Whole Lot of Motivation

Laura's 180

Turning my life around, one day at a time.

Lifting My Spirits

A lifelong dream deferred no longer- transformation from fat chick to bodybuilder after age 50.

Elan Mudrow

The Ridges of Intertextuallity