Okay, what? Most posts I read about fitness are entitled “My weight loss journey” or “My journey to getting fit” or “How I went from a real world 8 to a Hollywood 5”. Well, sorry folks. If I’m going to blog about my fitness journey, we’ve gotta start at the beginning. Which, for me, is being the heaviest that I’ve ever been, not including my two pregnancies.
As evidenced here:
I was one of those annoyingly blessed adolescents who are genetically tall and slender. I was a whopping 125 lbs when I graduated High School at roughly 5’9. Now, at nearly 32, I look at these photos and think, “I was a bone fide hottie.” Someone should’ve told me that back then. Nah, who am I kidding, I never would have believed them.
Then I transferred to university my junior year of college. I moved to a new town, only knew one other person, who thankfully I lived with, but was super busy working on her nursing program, and left my boyfriend of 6 years back home. I’ve struggled with depression since puberty, but it comes in waves, and moving to a new place was just enough change to create a tidal wave. So I gained 20+lbs. For the first time in my life, a doctor actually told me that I might want to consider losing some weight. It really didn’t hit me until that moment that I might actually have to work out and watch what I ate. As “blessed” as I was to grow up slender, I wasn’t prepared to face the reality of putting effort into my health. It also never occurred to me that just by getting older I was going to gain weight that was never going anywhere. That was a lesson that came to me much more recently.
Years later, I had my first child. During that pregnancy, I gained 58lbs, mostly from eating whatever I very well pleased. Which was a lot of pizza and bagels. The reality check I experienced years earlier was nothing compared to losing all of that baby weight. But eventually I did, about 9 months after giving birth, I went back to my pre-pregnancy weight of 148-150. My second pregnancy I was on a different diet, and working out 3-4 times a week. The 25lbs I gained were much easier to work off, especially with two kids and a constantly nursing baby. But despite being back to my new normal weight, my body had changed drastically. I had curves I never saw coming, and dimples, and stretch marks in the weirdest places, like the inside of my knees. Seriously. What is up with that.
The real battle started, though, last May. My husband and I decided that, for the time being, we are done procreating, and so I went and got an IUD. *Let me preface this by saying if you are here to rip apart my choice of contraception please find yourself another blog to follow because I aint got time for that. For all intents and purposes, I love my IUD. It does what it is supposed to do with pretty much no side effects. Except one. I’ve gained 20lbs since last May that have been damn near impossible to lose.
My therapist and I worked for awhile on my acceptance of my new body while realizing what I do and do not have control over. This was easier said than done as I spent 4 months wearing nothing but yoga pants because my jeans hurt and I’ve constantly felt 4 months pregnant. Despite that, though, my therapist is right. This is my new body. I am currently in the low 160s after 2 1/2 weeks of my new fitness regimen (more on that in a later post) and I am taking control over whatever I can. If I eat in a way that makes my body happy, and I work out to feel stronger and to have more energy, but I still look 4 months pregnant, that is out of my hands. I am giving myself permission to make healthy changes without expecting to look like my old, genetically gifted self, and to embrace the fact that I am a woman in my thirties, who has birthed two children, and has a body that works. It might not look like what I want it to, but it does the job, and I still have some control over how much I push it and challenge it to become stronger and more flexible. The rest is in someone else’s hands.