We ran the Strong Legs Run 10k on Saturday. I beat my last 10k time but it definitely wasn’t impressive. I wasn’t in last place, but wow. I HATE running. Ffs. I walked/jogged/ran it with my mom and bff and the best part was just the time I spent with these two lovely ladies (on each side of me - I’m in the dark green dedicated shirt)
Now - this picture. I LOVE this picture. I love my body in this picture. I am curvy, I am healthy, I am fit, I am beautiful. I am built like a true woman with real curves. As I like to say - I look at this picture and think “BLA-DOW.”
For the past two weeks I’ve stopped counting and being crazy. I’ve listened to my body and trusted it. It’s been almost relaxing to not be so crazy. I’ve continued to lose weight too.
I follow the boards at 3FC, which I fondly refer to as the “fatty forum” and I’ve realized a lot just reading other people’s thoughts and journeys. Quite frankly, it makes me sad. Sad for them. Sad for me. Sad for all of us struggling.
People have an unrealistic expectation for weight loss and it solving life’s problems. People think they’ll lose the weight and suddenly be so happy and have no issues and be able to “live like their skinny friends.”
You can’t. You won’t. You will have issues. Let me repeat that - you can’t, you won’t, you will have issues. You are more than the number on the scale. The number on the scale reflects your numerical relationship with gravity - not your self worth, your talent, your sex appeal, your humor, your purpose, your life.
Starving yourself, drastically restricting calories, taking supplements, working out for hours on end may get you to your goal - but are you going to do this for the rest of your life? Is this sustainable? It sure in hell isn’t for me.
No matter your size you will most likely have spots or areas you don’t like. My 60 year old 5′3″ 110 pound mother has spots she doesn’t like. She works out usually two to three times a day - yes, sometimes three times A DAY. She’s doing a 10k with us in a few weeks. She wants to reach her pre-pregnancy weight. You know - the one from 35 years ago. That sounds crazy, right? It used to infuriate me when anyone would comment on needing to lose 5lbs because let’s face it - I still want to lose 65 pounds. Now I realize that they’re battling the same demons and struggles I am. It’s not the number on the scale that’s doing this - it’s the way we internalize this. Because no matter what the number is we scrutinize. On the scale or in the mirror. We pick. We look for areas to improve. That’s part of being human - always wanting more (or less in our case.) I’d like to meet one person that steps on a scale and doesn’t have a single self image related thought.
You hitting that magic number “goal” number on the scale will not fix the issues upstairs. It won’t fix your relationship with food, because let’s be honest - we’re losing weight because of the relationship we had with food. There will always be temptations, bad days, emotions, challenges, etc.
Two months ago I forgave myself. I gave myself permission to screw up. I gave myself permission to have bad days. I also gave myself permission to stop hating my body. I gave myself permission to eat healthy and normally - without crazy restriction. I gave myself permission to eat when hungry, and work through whatever is upsetting me and making me want to eat.
If I could do one thing it would be to hug my 325lb self and tell her I love her and I’m sorry.
I hope you can do the same.
I met with the counselor and he is such a gem. He basically said my kinda crazy is hard wiring and not issue related. He suggested I see a MD and get on something. My PCP gave me Wellbutrin SR 8 months ago for my crazy, but I talked myself out of taking it. I started it yesterday. Unfortunately, I’m still in a bit of a funk but I’m working through it.
I am 100% owning this picture. Huge hips, goofy thumbs up (apparently this is how I run), all of it. I look terrible, but I don’t care. I’m proud of this picture. I am proud of me. The girl I was when I weighed 325lbs didn’t do triathlons - hell, she didn’t even try. The woman i am now is an athlete, a triathlete, a woman that gets up and trains when she doesn’t want to, a woman that pushes her body to the limits and then some, a proud woman. I could look at this picture and choose to focus on my hips (and don’t get me wrong - that was the first thing I noticed and fixated on when I saw it) but now I am choosing to focus on the fact that I can sort of see my collar bones, I have a slight smile on my face, my breathing is controlled and I don’t look like I’m 2 steps away from vomiting, my shoes are totally me and I finished my third tri with plans to do five next season.
So now, when I look at this picture I see an athlete; a swimmer; a runner; a cyclist. I see me.
I shaved another 6 minutes off of my time. I finished in 2:08:55. The course was extremely difficult. The race itself seemed a little disorganized. The swim start was not to my liking and the swim to bike transition was just wrong. It was a straight uphill climb - where even the most experienced triathletes commented on it. The bike was insanely hilly. And the running? Well, I just hate running. I am using the off season to really work on my run and build some serious muscle.
Weight wise? I lost 5lbs through September and I’m still working towards seeing 199 for New Years Eve. Slow and steady…
“You become what you think about all day long.” - Ralph Waldo Emerson
My bestfriend was kind enough to send me that image tagged with “Danielle’s Weight Loss Diaries” She couldn’t be more right. I haven’t kept it to one room so it doesn’t look that terrible; however, I very well may have as many things as that shed does. I have spreadsheets, log books, graphs, calendars, piece of paper, notes, apps, count downs, etc. etc. tracking everything relating to my weight loss. An unhealthy amount of tracking. Everywhere I look there is a constant reminder of my weight/size/food/calories/obsession being slammed into my face.
I read Food: The Good Girls Drug and it brought a lot of truths to light for me. Specifically how crazed and insecure and anxious I am. Most people think I’m just a chronic dieter on the surface but they have absolutely no idea how much this consumes me. Every single waking thought has slowly become about how many calories I’m burning, consuming and planning. I weigh in multiple times a day…and by multiple I mean literally every time I see the scale. At my worst I was netting my calories in the negatives after having worked out…at my best I’m panicking over not netting in the negatives. I’m the girl that after she binges doesn’t purge, but will work out until she’s burned off the calories she’s consumed. I’m the girl that has one bad meal and then punishes herself for the rest of the week. I’m the girl that avoids social situations so I’m not faced with having to feel out of control when I’m faced with food choices. I’m the girl that can’t lose weight and the terrible part is that I fear I’ve destroyed my metabolism by all of these absurdly unhealthy habits which is certainly contributing to my inability to lose weight. I also think a large part of it is mental in the sense that I have SO many body image issues now after losing 106lbs that I can’t imagine losing another 69lbs, hitting what my current goal is and being just fine. I don’t know this body and changing it even more is terrifying.
So, I read the entire book in one night, realized all of this, cried and promptly emailed an old shrink of mine:
I’ve kind of had a realization in reading/self help books/working through some of my own issues for self growth and improvement and realized that maybe I should see someone for my anxiety issues.You had mentioned it, people comment on me being “so uptight” and “not being able to let go and have fun anymore”, but I never really thought about it. I’m realizing that I think I do have an anxiety issue and it relates a lot to food/weight loss/body image issues. It’s gotten pretty bad and become an obsessive thing for me that isn’t healthy.I’ve done “crazy” and I’ve been through “crazy” and I don’t ever want to go back there again and I understand that my obsessiveness regarding food/body image is not healthy at this point. It has become all consuming and is truly an addiction. I fear that I’ve replaced my earlier, absurdly unhealthy coping mechanisms when I was younger with this.So, I guess I was wondering if you know anyone that dealt with anxiety AND body image/food/weight loss AND maybe had a little experience with my kind of crazy if you can’t take me.
Long story short: I used to be crazy. I thought I’d battled all of my demons and conquered them. I thought I was fine. I thought this was all over. So, I’m not exactly sure where to start this or how to start it, so bare with me.
Can fat people have eating disorders? It seems kind of illogical, right? Over the last couple of weeks I’ve been coming to terms that I think I do have an eating disorder. I’m still wrapping my head around it and I guess I’ve been in denial for a very long time about it.
In attempt for some sort of cathartic release: I meticulously count every single calorie, gram of fat, protein, carb, sodium, etc, I will never lose enough weight to be happy, I often avoid social events so I can control my food surroundings, I think about food non stop, my endocrinologist has made comments about my skin having nutrient deficiencies, I have taken diet pills and diuretics, I never feel satisfied no matter how much or how little I eat so it’s easier to skip meals, if I blow one meal I will punish myself all week, I watch the food network and research low calorie meals a ridiculous amount, I’ve often felt angry with myself for not having the self control to just stop eating, when people tell me they think I’ve lost weight I get very angry because I don’t think I have, I don’t see my 106lb weight loss in the mirror - I still see that fat girl staring at me. Food has consumed my life and I hate it.
When the weight wasn’t coming off like I wanted it to I start exercising insane amounts which made the weight stay even more because I netting my calorie intake in the negatives on a daily basis. I actually somewhat enjoy working out now. I love the triathlons and 5ks and 10ks and bike rides, so I ultimately enjoy the training I do for them. I don’t workout like a nut job now and aim for 3-5 times a week for 1-1.5 hours at a time.
I’m trying to find some sort of balance now. I’ve recognized something is wrong and I need to work on it. I broke yesterday on a long car drive with my husband and just cried when he commented that I don’t ever loosen up anymore and just have fun. I’m always on edge and stressed. That food/calories have consumed my existence and it’s all I think about. He was concerned that I couldn’t sit with him on the beach and have one beer because I was so preoccupied with my calories. He supports my weight loss, but at same time wants his wife back - and his social life since I typically try to avoid social situations that involve me eating/drinking. We used to play trivia every week (which he loves) but I get so stressed about what I’m eating/drinking that I would find reasons not to go.
I fear my all or nothing mindset has brought me to this place of obsession with food and calories and exercise. I am so hyper vigilant and so stressed about it that I have simply stopped losing weight and play this lose 10 - gain 10 game. I guess admitting I have a problem is the hardest step, right?
I’ve picked up a couple of books to try and work through some issues I have. I’m hopeful. I think… Mostly, I’m scared. Scared of failing something else I’m trying, working through these books and still having the same issues. I’m at my breaking point because what I’m doing isn’t working. I live in extremes and I’d like to just make some sort of peace with my poor body that I’ve put through the wringer. I deserve better that what I’m doing to myself…now I just need to believe that, too.
REWIND: so, I had been stressing about this BBC Ride because initially my husband (Kevin) had talked me into doing the 33 miler - without me having ever ridden 33 miles. We went out to a pretty flat course and did 32 miles a few weeks ago. Unfortunately, I was hung over and it wasn’t a good test of endurance. Like I said then, with 5 miles left I was not in a good place and my vag was killing me.
BBC Ride: Let me start by saying that BBC means Beautiful Backroads Century. Backroads mean hills, they don’t mean sh*t else. Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way…We get up at 5am to be at the ride by 6:30am. Registration/check-in is 1/4 mile from where you park. Wtf? I may do these races/rides/tris/sh*t, but I HATE walking a long way from my car to my destination. Anyhow, so we walk the 1/4 mile in the dark, check in, then have to walk 1/4 mile back to the car to unrack our bikes and then go 1/4 mile BACK to registration for the start. Kevin’s Uncle is a cyclist, too and he did the ride, so he met us up there.
Well, Kevin goes to look for his uncle so I hold both of our bikes and there’s a group of cyclists standing next to us and they say to me, “You holding everyone’s bike?” in that we know your big ass isn’t riding a bike that nice way which only infuriates me, so I respond with, “Yeah, this is definitely my bike and I’m holding my husbands.” So, Kevin gets back and takes his bike and they say to him, “Aren’t you going to pay her for holding your bike?” and Kevin is like, “What?” and the guy says, “Aren’t you going to pay her for her services?” ….no clue why, but his response got me so hot and bothered. He says, in that very Alpha male, serious way, “Yes, she’s my wife and I take care of her in every way possible. I don’t need to pay her.” Boom. Made my panties twitch. And it shut that guy up.
This is a ride, not a race. There’s no “GO!” or “START!” there’s just random people leaving whenever they want with no official time and no bibs. It was all very overwhelming for me, especially since there were over 1800 cyclists. Well, we set off to do the 15 miler.
There were several different courses to choose from - the 15, 33, 48, 66 or 100 miler. At mile 7 you have to choose if you want to do 15 or more. So, at mile 7 Kevin looks at me and says, “Alright. Up to you. 15 or 33?” Well, the first 7 miles were hilly, but nothing unmanageable. Challenging, but doable. Hard, but good. So, I tell him the 33. He’s happy, and then we keep on. Mile 10 is a pit-stop that is 1/4 mile, off course and down a steep hill and the whole way down I’m cursing my decision to even stop, because do you know what that means? After your “rest” you have to go back up this steep hill. Whose idea was it to put a rest at the bottom of a hill off course? A sadists.
We finish up our break. I can tell I’ve clearly impressed Kevin’s uncle because he didn’t expect me to agree to 33 and he’s telling me how I can still do 20 if I go back now. Which only fuels my drive to do 33.
We clip back in and go back up the bitch of a hill. The next 10 miles are NOTHING but hills. Long, long, steep, infuriating hills. At one point, I changed gears too late, got stuck in the front derailleur, had to unclip and fix my bike and then promptly cried. Kevin reassured me and calmed me down. I was so angry and embarrassed. I’m extremely hard on myself.
We stop at mile 21 and meet up with his Uncle who is telling me he’s proud of me and at this point I’m ready to be done. Kevin looks at me and says, “10 more miles, baby. You can do it. I’m so proud of you.” That’s all I need. I clip back in and start up again.
Now, I’m slowly climbing a hill. Counting. Singing “help me, help me” from that popular Train song that’s out. Out of the corner of my eye I see flashing lights: an EMT Responder. Fear hits me. Several things run through my head, 1. This guy is waiting for me to die. 2. The ride is over and they’re following behind me/sweeping. 3. He’s checking my ass out. I pull over to the side of the road and wave him around me, Kevin’s waiting at the top of the hill. He pulls up next to me and says, “Are you okay, ma’am?” and I look at him and say, “Yes. You’re freaking me out! Just go, dude!” He busts out laughing and takes off. Kevin is laughing. I’m laughing. It was much needed laughter. Kevin gives me a kiss and we clip back in to finish it.
The last 10 miles were significantly easier than the second 10 miles. I felt good on my bike. I was sore and hurt, but wasn’t worried about not finishing.
We finished in 3:11:42. We took a couple of 15 minute breaks and refueled/re-hydrated, but I finished. I found this to be harder than my triathlons. Perhaps because it was only my 4th time on my new bike, or maybe because it was first organized ride, or maybe it was me getting into my own head, but it was hard. And when something is hard, I want to keep doing it until it’s easy. (that’s what she said)
Long story short: I’ll be doing this again…
I’ve been informed I don’t eat enough, which is why I’m always struggling with my weight loss.
I’ve been eating 1300-1500 calories a day, but I work out 5-6 times a week and burn around 1000 calories each time. I ultimately end up netting 300-500 calories a day, which means by body is in starvation mode and then when I eat/drink a little more on the weekends my body holds onto every single calorie as though my big ass will never eat again. Trust me, big ass, you will eat.
I have gained 6lbs. So, this week I am trying something new. Clearly what I’m doing isn’t working, and honestly, hasn’t been working for a hot minute. I’m trying 1800-2000 calories a day this week. My daily diet will look a little like this:
Breakfast: Breakfast Burrito -homemade with southwestern eggbeaters, 50% RF Cabot jalapeno cheese, spicy turkey sausage, peppers and mushrooms wrapped in a flour tortilla. (333 calories)
Snack: Greek Yogurt + Pear (240 calories)
Lunch: Low Carb High Fiber Tortilla, black beans, salsa, avocado & lime + a peach ( 439 calories)
Snack: Celery + Carrots + Feta Spread (135 calories)
Dinner: Cracker Cheesy Chicken, sweet potato fries w/ olive oil, steamed broccoli and whole grain roll w/ 1tbsp. light butter. (664)
Calorie Total = 1809
Today’s weight: 225.2 (tom)
If you read, what are your favorite snacks? I need more snack ideas.
I can look at this two ways: be really upset or move on. I’ll move on. I used to get really upset, but I can’t do that anymore. It’s too taxing and draining to do. I worked out and I ate healthily….(just not enough.)
I’m not quite sure why or what made the 3lb gain, ok, yes I do, looking back at my tracker, I ate a lot less this week. I averaged 983 calories a day when I should be doing 1500. I was stupid and punished myself. I cut way back and only had soup for lunch all week because I ate Mexican on Saturday and drank and then wanted to see 215 today, so I illogically thought I could just cut back all week and make up for it…even though I already had when I biked 32 miles. I managed to net -91 calories one day. Stupid stupid stupid. Lesson learned…every day is a new day and I can’t hang onto the day before.
I need to listen to my body better.
REGARDLESS…10lbs in one month even with a 3lb gain this week. This is a journey and a process. I’ll get there.
Also, I’m still only weighing in once a week, which is huge for me. So, we’ll see what NEXT week brings!
I took three weeks off from Jiggle It and oh dear god, my thighs have absolutely no interest in participating in anything today. In fact, they are so bad that I am trying to time my day to doing a bunch of things at once. Example: I will heat my lunch, go pee and refill my water at the same time, despite the fact that I’ve needed to pee for the last 45 minutes. Unnecessary movement is exactly that today: unnecessary.
Well, Jiggle It was Saturday morning so when I woke up on Sunday I was slightly sore. Nothing too bad (at that point.) We all know it takes a couple of days for it to really sink in. They always say that exercise helps sore muscles…so, we went for a 32 mile bike ride.
This weekend I learned my husband is an amazing teacher/coach/trainer. He’s a cyclist and I am not. I am learning how to become one, but he’s very good. We went up to the Silver Comet trail and set out for our 32 miles. Silver Comet is a stunning paved path that is relatively flat with a few hills. I got to practice clipping in and out, working on my speed, etc. He pushed me when I needed it and told me how great I was doing. Told me when to pick up my pace, think about changing gears, etc. He was awesome. Well, when we were about 5 miles from returning my body decided we were done. My thighs were on fire, my knee hurt, and my vag was throbbing. Yes, my vag. We had switched seats out and moved my old seat to my new bike because I was used to it. Unfortunately, we did not bring the tools to adjust it and I needed it about 2 inches forward. Since it was in the wrong position I essentially sat on the nose of the seat for 2.5 hours. OUCH. I’ve got bruised lady-flower bits.
I got really frustrated with myself in those last 5 miles. Frustrated that I was struggling, frustrated that I hurt, frustrated that I wasn’t at my goal weight. A lot of silly frustrations. I was struggling because I’m building endurance; struggling because I am a big girl; struggling because I’m learning. Those are all things that I’m working on. I need to remember that when I’m so frustrated. I need to learn to be more patient with myself. I need to remember that you don’t see girls my size doing the things I’m doing because it is hard. I am the elusive unicorn.