So yesterday was my four-year anniversary of starting my journey to a better, healthier life. The day I decided to wake up and stop being obese, ringing in the scale that day real close to 300lbs… 280 Fucking pounds! What? How did I even get there?
Yet here I am sitting at 100 lbs lost, I am proud of that, I do know that I am. I mean 100 lbs is a great deal to lose. Along with more inches than my youngest child is tall.
Initially, I lost 140 lbs, can you imagine? I was a cardio queen, I mean I hit up the HIIT 4x a week, cardio for hours every day. In 1.5 years I had lost 140lbs. I wanted to be happy, I really did think fireworks, or some shit would happen, I would just reach lower and lower and I would be so fucking happy. I cried a lot because I had no curves, I lost my boobs, I had no butt. I cried myself to sleep often, I was wearing small shirts, xs pants size 2-4 in jeans. It was everything I wanted- or what I thought I wanted. I wasn’t happy, I’m not sure I am ever going to be fully happy with my body, to be honest.
What worked for me? Isn’t always going to work for you, each person is different. Each body is different. There isn’t a cookie cutter plan out there that everyone can follow to reach new levels. The scale will forever mess with my mind. Once I was down to what I thought I wanted, sitting at 145- that number on the scale made me happy, but my body didn’t. I went into a bulk at a friend’s advice, 3 months and I gained 30 lbs.
In the last 3 years I have struggled with loving and hating my body, I can tell you inside? I fucking love myself, I have been through fucking hell and back and gotten high fives from the devil on my way back topside and I am still fucking here. I am still fighting for everything I want. So, my insides as broken and as messy as they are? Yeah, I fucking love the person I am, I love my face now, its always been pretty but I am pretty and have eyes again now that I don’t have such a fat face. My body though, I won’t talk shit about it to myself about my body, but I know I am not happy. I have changed my body composition so much in 2.5 years. Adding muscle, that first month of lifting weights?
Changed everything. The iron in my hand, the barbell, the dumbbells it feels like home, it feels like safety, it feels like salvation. I have thought terrible thoughts within the last couple years, those thoughts you don’t share- weights they were always there, they saved me when I certainly didn’t want to save myself. They were there, they never lie, they don’t tell you what you want to hear, they don’t break you down inside they only make you push yourself further. As hard as you want, they are there..
I started this year not just lifting, but powerlifting, focusing in on the accessory work and learning form and technique. It makes me feel alive, it makes me feel whole, it is a feeling I can’t fully describe.
I can bench press 100 lbs now, I am working on perfecting it until it is no longer a struggle in any way.
I can deadlift 175lbs it was higher but after an injury earlier this year I am back at it, as well as my squat suffered from the injury and I started back at lifting only the bar, last week I was able to squat at depth for 110lbs. Before I can add more volume I am going to perfect what I am at.
My life now is very different from four years ago physically, it been a journey for sure, one that I don’t intend on ever giving up on. I wanted my kids to have a mom who wasn’t chilling on the sidelines, I wanted to be able to keep up with them, even if sometimes I can’t because delayed onset muscle soreness is a bitch some days.
65% or so of people who lose a significant amount of weight will gain it back within 3 years, I refuse to be a statistic. I won’t allow it. I had a lot of loose skin when I dropped the 140 lbs at first, I hated it- still hate it but it’s not quite as much around my arms since I filled it like 75% with muscle. Bulking to add mass is such a head trip when you have worked for awhile to lose weight and you are purposely putting it back on? Mind fuck at best.
I’m writing hopefully Thursday a blog on many fitness myths because I keep hearing them and really me writing one isn’t going to help because everyone will continue to pass on these myths forever until everyone dies. However, adding mass helped my entire body, the way I was a cardio queen to lifter changed my mentality and physically I changed my body.
It’s easy to get caught up on insta models and how they look and how you want to achieve a look that you probably can’t get to, its very much a bash to your self-love journey, I took a note from a book I never finished to stop following the ones that I wanted to look like because it was like setting myself up for failure. I want to look like me just stronger and leaner.
Lack of support was a strong one for me and continues to be so. I had two people in the beginning who pushed me when I didn’t want to continue, I haven’t met either in person, but they were there. A phone calls away for me to cry about how hard it was to lose the weight. Family and friends never really understood and most still don’t. I have my best friend and she is amazing, she puts up with my stubborn ass and I have no idea how. I have another person who is amazing, listens to me and deals with my fitness addiction. I have reached a point in this journey, where other than my kids, fitness is 2nd in my list of importance, I never slack, I never fall off the wagon, I just don’t because I cant.
See that’s a thing, most people say it’s dedication, and it is. I have dedicated four years and what will be the rest of my life to fitness and make myself a better person. However, I run that fine line between addiction and dedication. I am learning more about myself.
The last 18 months or more, I have been battling with an eating disorder. Everyone knew that was close to me, and I go back and forth with admitting I have a problem. I don’t know where it started, I don’t know when it will end, I just know that deep down I love being empty, I love having the starvation feeling, the control I have over how long I can fast I love it. I am so fucking terrified of getting fat again that I bounce back and forth between starvation and fueling my body. I know how to meal prep, I know how to eat, I hate eating but I know how to do it, so I can smash my goals.
So why am I my biggest obstacle? Why am I the biggest sabotage in my life? I had someone else do it for me for awhile. He hated that I worked on myself to be better, he hated that I worked out, saying I was cheating because I was getting hotter. Saying I looked like a man because I lifted, saying I would never reach goals because I was deep down just a fat pos that didn’t deserve to reach goals. That no one would ever want me anyway, so I should just give up.
I know damn well that starving myself doesn’t help anything, I know this- I’m not stupid. I gained 10 lbs in starving myself. It’s just something I can’t stop. I look in the mirror and I love my gains, I love my muscles, but I still see the fat, the girl who weighed 285 lbs and was miserable and disgusting. I hate her, I hate that I let her become a real person. I know it was just me and we are all just walking around in meat suits that we return to the maker when we’re done here. That I shouldn’t hate where I started but I do, I loathe her.
If I don’t push myself 110% in every workout, I feel like I failed, like I don’t deserve to be in fitness, I have these goggles on that make everything disorientated, my mind never seemed to catch up with the change I have made in my life and body, this giant change and my brain is still stuck over in four years ago when I look in the mirror, when I have any issues with myself.
I am working on eating more, hitting my daily calories and macros, I am working on eating more frequently because when I hit that fast, I can hold it for a very long time and I love it. It’s so fucking hard to step out of this cycle. This is my last try at fixing myself solo, after this attempt if I can’t be successful I will seek help because I am pretty sure I have an eating disorder and I probably need help with it.
I need to give myself some slack, I have goals and I will smash them- I have no doubts in my mind.
I also need to remind myself to love my body, I mean I put it through hell daily and here it still is just working along. I need to work on loving my body and physical changes. I love myself within and how I can rise out of every situation, how I am the person I am, the parent I am and the friend I am. I have no doubts about the person I am- because she’s pretty fucking bad ass. I need to dig deeper and love my body too because it deserves it, the whole package deserves the love I must give it.
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Self-Love~ Health~ Change