I made a promise to myself then and there. I promised that I would start living a life of healthy habits if for no other reason than I deserved to feel good about myself. Now I didn’t really believe that I deserved to feel great about myself but that was my what I repeated in my head every morning when my alarm went off at 5am. Obviously no one becomes this deconditioned and frumpy-looking unless they are neglecting their health. In my promise I DECIDED (there’s that magic word-DECIDING to take action is as good as saying it’s done) that when my alarm went off, no matter what, I would throw the covers off and put my feet on the floor whether my eyes were open yet or not. I promised myself I would only put food in my mouth that had a purpose. I promised myself I would eat every two to three hours and watch my portion sizes. I promised myself I would plan my meals ahead of time and pack portable snacks for when I was carpooling the kids around. I promised myself I would never allow myself to get hungry. Another promise I made was that I would only cook meals for my family that were nutritionally dense. I not only wanted to be an example of good health to them but I wanted them to be part of a new lifestyle with me. Lastly I promised myself that once a week I would eat whatever I wanted just because.
And so the journey began in April 24 of 2004. My goal was to be back in a size 6 before the year was out—which is the size I was when we were married in 1986. I started with “sprints”—and I use that term VERY loosely—three days a week. I sprinted like I remembered sprinting in the glory days with the wind in my hair and….I made it a whole half a block before I was completely spent. I was obviously not successful in channeling the athlete of my youth. I waddled a couple of blocks, “sprinted” a half a block and so on until I got back to the house 6 blocks later. I was a hot sweaty mess and I stumbled up onto the porch and fell into a heap to recover. My three year old came to the class door and asked if he could come out and take a nap on the porch with me. “No honey, Mommy is busy dying right now. Go eat your breakfast and I’ll be in in a minute.” It was probably 20 minutes before I could scrape myself up off the cement and go inside. I wonder what they neighbors were thinking?
The other three days of the week I was using weights to do your basic weight training stuff. Bicep curls, shoulder presses, weighted squats, etc. It was boring. I didn’t like counting reps. But I was going to keep my promise to myself without fail so I was either on a weight training day or a sprint day 6 days a week and resting on the 7th.
I stood on the scale just about every day. At first I gained weight. That was dumb! And then I maintained that added weight for a couple of weeks. I glared at the scale. “Fine!” I emphatically declared. “I don’t care if this kills me. I’m going to stick with this diet for 24 weeks no matter what!!!!” I figured 24 weeks was going to happen anyway, I might as well eat and exercise as if the scale numbers were dropping like crazy. In 24 weeks I would know if common eating nutritiously dense foods and exercising was a means to fat loss. I could do anything for 24 weeks.
At the beginning I really hated exercising--something about the THUNDERING sound of my feet on the pavement and two obnoxiously undulating saddlebags. I had to put my headphones in so I couldn’t hear myself breathing like I was going to die. In the first 4 weeks I didn’t see ANY results on the scale but my clothes fit better. My thunder thighs didn’t feel like they were going to start a fire-by-friction on sprint days. I was able to cover 3 and 4 blocks at a time without stopping to walk. I was so IN. THE. ZONE! I ate clean. I mean, so clean that I even found myself snubbing the sample ladies in Sam's Club.
After another couple of weeks I didn’t even want a “free day” to eat junk. I didn’t want it sitting on my body or having to work that much harder to get it off. Magic happened around week 12. Every two weeks I was another size smaller. I was totally motivated to keep going. I packed my food if I was going out, had healthy snacks handy, scheduled dinners a week in advance, grocery shopped when I wasn’t hungry and downed my protein shakes twice a day. I even packed my own salad dressing in my purse if we went out to eat. I started eating more and exercising less, meaning I ate foods that had more nutritional value and less calories like veggie omelets. I also combined my workouts into 30 minute sessions combining moves like lunges and bicep curls to get the job done faster and to increase the intensity. My weights increased as I got stronger and I noticed more toning happening all over my body. I was reaching my goal!
When October rolled around my body had morphed into this sleek and comfortable size 2. May I add here that it wasn’t the size that mattered but rather the energy I experienced on a daily basis. Not only was I that athlete I once was but I had a new confidence about me that I had never experienced before.
Something I concluded looking back on my fat loss journey is the foods I modified or eliminated from my diet were just heavy anchors that kept me tied down to the harbor of life. Once I realized that I had total control over what I ate, when I ate, how much of it I ate, things began to change. Compound, intense exerice was the hoist that lifted the anchors one link at a time. Cranking out proper weight training workouts with rest built in, buoyed up my ship and suddenly…it sailed! I dropped 8 dress sizes in 6 months at age 39. Mission accomplished.
Question: What did I learn from a deliberate effort to become a healthier person?
Answer: Anything is possible when you laser focus on a goal.
Question: What was my greatest lesson learned?
Answer: Personal integrity is everything! After all, if you can’t keep a promise to yourself, to whom can you keep one?
Question: Was there some sacrifice to what I did?
Answer: Some.
Question: Was it the kind of sacrifice that denied me pleasure?
Answer: Absolutely not! It was the kind of sacrifice that got me away from running circles—in old patterns like on-and-off eating binges and sporadic workout frenzies which were actually making me gain weight—and only served to make me feel like a failure.
I remember thinking, “I'll just STARVE myself to death and not eat for a whole week and that’ll show my stupid saddlebags how much I hate them!” I was desperate AND delusional! It's just that I was SO MAD for letting myself get to that point in the first place!
I played every excuse-card in the book for why I was “suddenly” large--note: "suddenly" was give or take 10 years.
1) I had five kids--
2) I didn't have time--
3) I was homeschooling--
4) My husband wasn't around to watch the kids when I felt like exercising p.s. I NEVER felt like exercising--
5) It wasn't my diet, “I ate really healthy” (everyone says that to me which I came to realize that eating “healthy” is not the same as eating for fat loss)
6) I exercised and nothing happened note: I DID exercise...two days in a row every three months. Consistency is everything!
The game changer came when I took responsibility for my health and then DECIDED to take action to become a more accurate physical version of my true inner self. At this point in my life, I’m willing to do whatever it takes to keep on sailing. Anchors aweigh, baby, anchors aweigh!
