Not Where I Want to Be

So, the truth is out. I blog about family fitness, write articles about healthy living and guess what, I’m not where I want to be. I used to feel guilty about that. Really guilty. Almost to the point of being ashamed. How can anyone listen to anything I say when I’m not the perfect model of health and fitness? What if people find out I’m not a size 4? What will they think?

Well, the truth is, it’s been a really, really long time since I cared about what people think of me. Like, since I was a senior in high school. And I learned that lesson pretty fast. People who think less of me because of what I say, do or think, or how I look, aren’t really worth my time. Harsh? Maybe. But unabashedly true.

And then today it hit me that agonizing over not being where I want to be is subscribing to that same defeatist, all-or-nothing mentality that vaulted me up to the 200+ pound mark in the first place. And now look where I’m headed … again.

People always say I don’t look like I weigh what I weigh. For starters, I’m 5’9”. That’s five inches taller than the average U.S. woman. I got me a little more frame to fill. And—oh, how to say this delicately?—I’m sorta on the chesty side. I once read a medical chart that said I should weigh between 120 and 145. And I thought, “120? Sh*t, I have that much in my bra!” (Subsequently, that was the last time I paid attention to a medical chart.) I lost 55 pounds a few years ago, took 9” off my waist and only 4” off my chest. My jeans dropped from a size 18 to a size 10, thisclose to an 8, and I still have to buy an XL top, or shop at Lane Bryant for bras. (*cringe*) The girls are here to stay, no two ways about it.

But regardless, I could be doing better. In order to make progress, I think it’s necessary to revisit the past. What were my successes, and where did I fall short? My top weight, at least the top weight I admit to, was 229 pounds, just before I moved to Idaho in June 2004. (OK, don’t tell anyone, but just before I delivered my daughter, I was closer to 250. Linebacker size. Two weeks before she was born, the nurse weighed me and told me I was 248, and after that I told her not to tell me my weight anymore. But that’s just our little secret, K? All right, thanks.) I’m going to really go out on a limb here and post the picture, taken in August 2004. OK, look. What do you see? A fat girl, right? A fat girl with a bad haircut. (Short? What was I thinking?) But that’s not all I see. I see a girl who was really unhappy and unhealthy, just reacting to life, eating anything and everything because it was available, losing her temper a little too often and feeling very sorry for herself. Misery personified.

Now check out the next picture. That’s me just one year later, in 2005, 55 pounds lighter and much happier and healthier. That’s a girl who said “Eff you, misery! I got stuff to do. I deserve a better life than this, and I’m gonna fight for it!” That’s the girl who met her friend at 0:Dark:30 every morning to hit the gym. And then made time to lift weights at night when the kids went to bed. That’s the girl who stopped buying cookies because she figured out she couldn’t eat what wasn’t there. (Duh!) That’s the girl who found a way to be active no matter what, whether it was going out to play soccer (which she hates) with the kids or shoveling 49 yards of dirt out of the driveway to put in the backyard, busted ankle and all. She made it a workout, whatever it was.

So where is she now? Somewhere between those two pictures. Not where she wants to be. But she has come to the realization that it’s not all or nothing. It’s day by day, and each one is a new opportunity. And if she falls, she’ll get back up. It’s only a failure if you refuse to try again. So I’m officially dropping the guilt today. It never helps anything anyway. No matter what size pants I’m wearing, I know a lot about health and fitness. I have much to say and share and do. And I still want to help others achieve their own success, one day, one pound, one good decision at a time. Because THAT is where I want to be.