Who's this Chick?! (A story of "Before and After")

This is my infamous "before and after" photo. When you look at it it doesn't tell you much about me nor does it tell you how I got from there to here. Infact, in general when we look at a person, any person in a photo or in passing, we come to our own conclusions about that person. The conclusions we draw never seem to be as complicated as they really are. We have a tendency to find the simplest of answers as to why they are what they are and look the way that they do. For instance, you may look at this paticular photo and say to yourself, "well, she probably had a gym membership she actually used", or "good for her, she lost her baby weight", or you might even say to yourself, "ahh, she looked a lot happier being chunky", and I would say to you that NONE of those statements are actually true. That being said, hopefully this particular blog series will help you see that the answers are never just that simple.

In the beginning...

As a child, I was not big by any means. Usually from personal trainers you'll hear 1 of 2 stories, and they usually start with, "I was the fat kid" or "I've been athletic my whole life", neither of which apply to my particular story. I was a normal sized kid with a normal activity level. My nutriton was never perfect, but visably I maintained being the "normal sized" looking kid. However, after high school, I found myself sitting on the couch more, having worked 50 hours a week managing various means of retail. I was tired all the time and I ate like shit (cause it was fast and didn't require thought). Fortunately for me, I never noticed I was getting fat, I carried on doing as I did thinking that this was just how my life was and there was not much I could do to change it. Besides, my boyfreind still loved me so what did it matter. Please keep in mind those thoughts were that of an ignorant 20 something suburban chick who had no real strife in her current exsistance. So the fact that my boyfriend didnt talk to me about my growing waistline, to me, meant I was doing okay! When in all actuality he was just too scared to say something off color to the hormonal, stressed out, mega beast that I was at that time in my life.

Then there was that time...

So, as I said my boyfriend never said anything to me about how I was carrying on (smart boy). Time went on and I just kept eating like shit, too tired to be active, losing flexability, gaining fat (but carrying it in my breasts and buns, both places we as women seem to be okay with) until that smart boy proposed to me and became my smart fiance. Then my brain went HOLY SHIT!! I GOTTA LOSE WEIGHT!!! I CAN'T WALK DOWN THE ISLE LOOKING LIKE THIS!!! So, I did what any crazy white girl does when she becomes engaged to be married, I joined a gym.

I went for a couple weeks, really putting an effort in, I even splurged for the personal trainer option with my new membership. I was determined to look good on my wedding day if it cost me everything I had in my bank account, eventually it did (look for my next blog post, "Why a gym membership can kill you"). Some weirdness happened with my gym, so I stopped going. It just so happened that around this same time, I was diagnosed with adult ADHD and Bi Polar disorder, which was probably caused by the malnutrition and lack of activity. Unfortunately for me, the medications I was on were severly decreasing my apatite. At the time, I thought of it as a happy accident and I used that lack of apatite to reach my vision of a "beautiful bride". I walked down the isle the same size I was in high school, but... deep in my head I knew how I got there. I felt a little ashamed knowing that I wasn't doing the right things to lose weight, but I was thinking hey it worked. To further "validate" my indescretions, I couldnt help feeling loved from all the attention I was getting from my friends and family about my "amazing weight loss".

Then comes baby.....

Two years later my smart and super sexy fireman husband decided to give into my demands to bare a child. When I became pregnant with the second love of my life, I didn't care if I was going to "get fat". I have always wanted to be a mother, since I can remember. I had stopped taking my medications just before I became pregnant (whew..that was fortunate eh?) and I weighed about 145lbs and I'm about 5'4" in height. So, my BMI said I was a "normal healthy weight". The morning I gave birth, to my beautiful 7lb, 19.5 inch baby girl, I weighed 249lbs!!! Thats right! I gained 104 lbs in 36.5 weeks of pregnancy! YEAH! It gets worse..., when I left the hospital 5 days after my emergency C-section, I then weighed 256lbs!!! How did I gain 7 MORE lbs. when I had just released a 7lb baby out of my new baby exit wound?!! Oh we do have magical lives dont we?

Well, it wasn't good for many reasons, my hypotention didn't disappear after my cesarean section, like the O. B.s had hoped. They put me on some new medication to help the hypotention and I pissed about 70lbs of fluids out of my body for a straight week. OH! the new joys of motherhood. I was told that my choice to breastfeed my newborn would be a great help in "getting my body back". It never did. In fact, I breastfed for 2 and a half years and never dropped a pound, instead I kept gaining until I was at a consistant weight of between 180 to 195 lbs.

So, why wasn't it coming off....?

Well, my body is different then every body out there, therefore your body is different from mine and everyone else's body as well. NO BODY IS THE SAME!!! We all move differently, we all process foods differently, we have different levels of activity, and basically our bodies are as different and as complex as our perceptions.

I walked miles with my new baby as soon as I was cleared by the doctors. I joined a much nicer fitness studio that I could walk and bike to. The place had everything, cardio classes, yoga, weight training and all sorts of things I had never tried before. It was amazing! I HAD NEVER felt better, I started running regularly, biking with my husband and was very active with my new baby/housewife duties. I would say I worked out at least 3 times a week for an hour, and I walked every night and every morning with my kiddo. As a breastfeeding mother, I was VERY careful about what I put into my body for nutrients. But, I still never lost more then the same ten pounds I would lose and would see right back on the scale after my period was over.

So, then how did I get to where I am now?....

Well it was an evalution that happened, and I didn't even know it was happening.

First, I had a mental breakdown... and I threw out the scale, to this day I don't even look when nurses weigh me at the doctors office. Why? Because, the ONLY thing a scale can tell you is the measurable force in which gravity is pulling you toward the Earth at this very moment. THAT IS ALL!!! It doesn't tell you why you should or shouldn't be happy, it doesn't tell you how strong or weak you are, what you are or aren't capable of, it doesn't tell you how pretty or ugly you are, how fast you can go, how much physical pain you can or cannot endure. IT TELLS YOU SHIT!! So, that's why I threw out my scale, it never helped me control my weight and it will never help anything, because weight is just a useless measurement for gauging your fitness level anyway. I've seen fat kids do back flips...I have yet to be coordinated enough to do a backflip myself, and I have been in peak physical condition for a couple years now, just sayin.

Second, I accepted myself for exactly what I was at that moment. I tried so many things to lose weight but it really was never about weight. What kept me chunky and mostly depressed, was my own perception of what I thought I looked like to other people, that really bothered me. I was scared to have a fat roll pop out of my shirt at Fit ball class, I wore two sports bras when I ran and I was still scared of what people thought of me, "oh here comes that tubby chick jogging off her morning doughnut" (and then multiple people in a room somewhere would induldge in their righteous judgemental laughter).

The very process of accepting myself and my body was and will always be the key to my continued success, in fitness and in life. When I learned to accept myself and lose my inhabitions, I became resourceful and determined. Which brings me to my third and final phase of this crazy fitness obsessed journey.

Thirdly, after I learned to accept myself, I started to hold myself accountable for everything I had done to my body. I was pissed at myself for allowing my perseptions to control my self confidence. But, now that I realized that I am what I am, and weather or not people will accept me for who am or not doesn't matter anymore, then... I started to run harder, I began doing more physical activities, I didn't care if my boob popped out or someone saw my fat jiggle. I started to push myself in ways that I never thought possible. Before I learned to accept myself, I used to say "I can't", for various, numberable reasons and NONE of them were actually reasons, they were just an excuse covered up in a blanket of self doubt.

I was so angry at myself for allowing my perceptions of what people may have thought about me, to drive my life to where it was. I was pissed at myself for allowing my insecurities to rule my whole existance. Then ... it happened.

I used that very anger to push me through the first actual sit up I had been telling myself and others that I just couldn't do because of my back issues. I used that anger and frustration to get me through two more sets of EVERYTHING. I had wasted enough of my time and I was ready to make up for it.

Determination will get you very far but the best thing it can get you, is the ability to learn to be resourceful. Because, resourcefulness will actually get you a little farther. Example: You are determined to get to the gym to work out, but... what if you can't? This is where most people will take their determination, and then it can go one of two ways, they can either be determined enough to find a way to get to the gym or ...they will be so determined that the resourcefulness kicks in, and they no longer see obsticals as a means to give up, they no longer feel held up by anyone or anything. When that happens a whole world opens up, you realize that you never even needed a gym or a personal trainer, or the right new diet, or any other trick people try to tell you will "make you lose weight", "build muscle tone", "eat healthier", or the worst lie of them all, "be happier".

It all is what it is at this very moment, and you will either seize that moment, and do what you intend to do with passion, heart, and an acceptance and love for your very being or you will let it die, the moment will move on, and you will keep wrapping those comfortable excuses in the perceptions of your own made up reality.

So, that's the story behind this "before and after" photo, the story of how I struggled with life, not my struggle with "weightloss" or "obesity", I never honestly struggled with that. I personally don't think anybody else in the world has either. The real struggle, is your own perception of yourself and your assumptions of other people's perception of you. I hope this story was able to give you a clearer, less simple perception of me. Thank for reading.

#photo