Here Goes Nothin'

Ok, so I know no one wants to listen to anyone else complain about their weight, and I truly have hesitated in even talking about it. Because if you know me in real life, you'll probably want to smack me next time you see me. Because I'm going to talk about my weight. But I'm doing it as a way of holding myself accountable and maybe even finding a little support. Because, really, what women hasn't or isn't struggling with their weight. I think it's just ingrained in us to watch the numbers, criticize ourselves in the mirror, compare ourselves to others, and generally be really hard on ourselves.

I have been blessed most of my life with being of average body size. I am relatively tall, almost 5'9" and have a slender build. I played sports pretty consistently thru my mid-20's and stayed slim that way. I'll admit too, I probably have been blessed with some good genes. I think my metabolism is fairly fast, considering the amount of food I eat, and when I do exercise consistently I see results pretty quickly. But I've also got some bad genes in there too; heart disease runs rampant on my dad's side of the family, and on my mom's side there are cardiac issues, cancer and diabetes.

My dad had his first heart attack at 41 years old and it darn near killed him. He didn't smoke or drink, had a physical job, and was in great shape. BAD GENES. I am rapidly approaching that same age and the thought of something like that happening to ME, and potentially taking me away from my kids or rendering me disabled, scares the living CRAP out of me. I realize some things you can't control, like your genetics, but I can certainly make it harder for those bad genes to do their thing. And research has shown time and time again that exercise and a healthy diet play a big part in disease prevention.

Now, in case you think I've just been skating along skinny through life, I'll tell you that I've had a fat period. Or at least a chubby period. After my husband and I started dating, the nights of drinking and eating bar food caught up with me. My activity level dropped to about nil, and I got lazy in the flush of love I was caught up in. I lamented my weight on my wedding day, even though I truly did feel beautiful. I just wish I'd felt thin and beautiful. Then I got pregnant seven months later. Now, I have to say I am one of those lucky pregnant women that everyone hates. I ate whatever I wanted, which was mainly cold, juicy fruit, salad, Eggo waffles with peanut butter, and pints of Baskin Robbins ice cream. I only gained 22 lbs in my 38 week pregnancy, yet on the day I gave birth to Sam I weighed 200 lbs. Do the math.

After Sam was born my eating habits changed drastically. First, I was breastfeeding which burns the calories, plus I wasn't going out drinking and chomping nachos on a weekly basis. I ate much less, having to usually eat a meal with a baby in one arm or abandon a meal altogether to deal with him. So over the course of the first few months, I lost about 45lbs, which put me closer to my "normal" weight range. Somehow over the next couple years, I managed to lose about another ten pounds, which put me at my high school weight of 130-135. With Zoë, I gained 27lbs and lost it all very quickly. Again, totally blessed.

My point is that when I was at my heaviest, I swore that if I ever got back to "normal" I'd never again complain about an extra five pounds. My whole life I'd whined "I need to lose weight" when I really didn't need to yet when I truly DID need to lose weight, I was virtually powerless to do so. See, I'm not very good in the motivation department. Oh wait! There was once in my life when I was seriously motivated. It was before my 25th birthday and I was having a quarter-life crisis. I was going thru a divorce (but that's a story for another day) and was really stressing about turning 25 and my life being in shambles. So I turned to the gym. I spent 2-3 hours a day there, six days a week. I was in the best shape of my life. I did 200 sit-ups every day and got myself a nice little firm tummy out of it. I weighed 126 at the time, which was maybe a couple pounds lighter than I should have been, but I was in dang good shape.

Having children is a great motivation though. I may prefer to sit in front of my comptuer and eat a box of Cheez-its, but I can't do that to my kids. I can't shorten my life and deprive them of a mother in order satisfy my own unhealthy habits. Granted, I still will probably sit in front of the computer but it'll be after I exercise, and I'll be munching on carrots or pretzels instead.

Now, before you start thinking I'm all selfless and stuff, a large part of this whole endeavor is vanity. Because I've always been "tall and skinny" that's kind of become my identity in my head. And I'd like to live up to that. Over the last year or so, I've gained ten lbs. And because of past experience, if I don't gain some control now, that ten pounds will turn into twenty, then thirty, and then I'll be right back where I was on my wedding day. And knowing I let myself get that way was not a pleasant feeling. I don't want to be there again. Ever.

I want to be a strong, fit, healthy momma to my kids. I want to have the energy and stamina to keep up with them, to play and run with them, to give them a good example of a healthy lifestyle. And, I'll be honest, I want to look good. I look okay in clothes now, but I know I can look better. I know my body is squishy and flabby and it doesn't have to be that way. For me and my body type, I've got extra weight on me. YOU may not see it, but come take a look at me naked and you'll see what I mean. (Not really. I'd never subject you to that kind of torture.) I just know I'm capable of better.

I've been so inspired lately because of several people. Linda of All & Sundry is my hero. She has two small boys, works part time and still manages some kick-ass work outs. Several of her posts have documented her journey to fitness, like this one with some before & after pictures, and this one where she admits that even her skinny jeans are too big, along with pictures (at the end) of the jeans she IS fitting into. I mean, seriously. If that's not inspiring, I don't know what it. I mean, I've never met her in person but considering she lives about 90 miles away from me in an area I frequently visit, it could happen. I could stalk run into her.

My friend and co-worker, April, has lost 50+lbs on Weight Watchers. The transformation has been incredible and she's made it look effortless. Also, my friends Gypsy and Mika have been on a tangent lately. Man! Gyp has lost a ton of weight from running. She's looking awesome and I'm so proud of her. And Mika was doing the same thing before she blew her knee out, had surgery, and got a warning from her doctors that she musn't ever run again lest her cartilege totally disintigrates. So now she's getting up at 4am (!!) to swim before work. I mean, the least I can do is haul my lazy butt out of bed at 8am and get to the gym by 10am, dontcha think?

Anyway, my ramble is drawing to a close. Please don't throw something heavy at me if you see me in person - we all have our struggles, whether it be ten or fifty pounds. I realize that I am at a weight many people are fighting to get to, I'm just trying to be the best ME. I can't make any promises as to my goals or progress. Maybe you won't even notice a difference when you see me. But know that I am going to be working on these pesky ten pounds, and more importantly trying to live up to my potential and stick around to meet my grandchildren.