crash and burn

this is, what… the 90th post i’ve written on my weight?  something like that.  if you couldn’t tell it’s been an issue, you should be able to from this one.

not gonna lie, i turned into one tubbbby chica.  i like to kid that rusty got tired of listening to me complain about my weight – that’s why he hired burge for me.  but no matter the reason, i’m glad he did.

here goes nothing.

i’ve been battling with my weight since college.  when my ‘woman body’ decided to finally show up, i was already so comfortable in my 5’3 110 frame that i’d had since highschool.  i had cute clothes.  i looked cute in them.  i had ab lines.  i could’ve used a little more in the top section, but that’s why they make awesome bras.    insert college here with a lack of physical activity, copious amounts of beer, bad food and little sleep.  the metabolism dropped and one day i was sitting in class and actually felt my stomach rolling over on itself.  EW.

one thing led to another which led to a very carefully planned eating disorder.  fad diets.  diet pills.  make sure you eat with people.  don’t puke it up right away.  take care of your teeth and esophagus.  train your gag reflex.  exercise. drink TONS of water.  lotion your skin.  take vitamins.  don’t lose too much, you’ll be found out.

i knew i wasn’t doing anything healthy to my body.  if it was, i wouldn’t feel the urge to hide it.  i knew all of the signs and symptoms people looked for to diagnose an ED and i’ll be damned if anyone was going to point them out on me.  and so it became a game of unhealthy maintenance. lose if you can, but don’t you dare gain.  i’d get into relationships and get comfortable and not worry so much about what i looked or felt like.

i hit an all time low my senior year.  while i stopped watching the food so much, i became a gym addict.  wake up, pop a xene, go to the gym.  exercise till i puke.  shower, class, gym again.  there were a few times where i’d skip class all together to spend the day in the gym.  i thought i was pretty awesome and didn’t think that anyone had any idea of what i was doing to myself.  ’getting in shape for the show’ was a great excuse to lean on.  second semester got even worse.

now, i never got to the point of professional intervention.  i never got below 140.  i didn’t want help.  i just wanted to look and feel great in my own clothes.  i didn’t realize that i kept looking to others for validation and found negative reinforcement.  when the guy you’re dating can fit into your clothes and their big on him… when the guy you’re dating calls you ‘thick’ (and i don’t mean thick skinned or thick headed)… when you’re giving your cute clothes away and moving up a number size….you can’t do that because you’ll hurt your back or your knee….

eight years went by from the time i actually recall being aware of what i was doing  and i never actually told anyone.  i was at convention in 2008 sitting with a sister from florida, whom i barely knew.  we were sitting in a session about ANAD  (which happen to be one of our philanthropies) and i broke down.  caro held my hand and cried with me.  no one else at the table knew what was going on.  i think she was the first person i opened up to and told.  she didn’t judge me.  she didn’t make fun of me or shun me.  she did anything but that.  it sounds cliche, but that moment changed me.  and it also started a pretty awesome friendship.

fast forward eleven years since college and i still have body image issues.  i finally accept the fact that i will not be a 5’3 110lb tiny tiny ever again.  for starters, i grew 3 inches. hahaha  i finally accept that i’m curvy, and dudes love curvy (especially my dude).  i finally accept that weight really is just a number and it’s about how i feel.  each day i try to think of something i like about myself whether it be physical, mental or whatever.  i still seek out that validation.  rusty’s great at giving me positive reinforcement, even if i don’t always believe him.

what i can’t accept is that last month, i was 180lbs – my heaviest to date.  if i was 180 and chock full of strength and awesome muscles, that’d be one thing.  but i was 180lbs of lethargic adipose fat.  everything hurt and ached and creaked.  finding things to wear to work or out to play was a daily dreaded battle.  i had a perpetual food baby.  no really – i could pop out my stomach and i’d look like i was 5months pregnant.  EW!

rusty offered to exercise with me.  i love you hun, but i’m not ready to do that with you yet.  let me get rid of the tummy roll first. hahah.  he hired our neighbor for me.  a certified trainer, all my own.  what the heck am i getting into.  i’ve started running more on my own volition and with friends.  that’s new…haha

i started with burge on 6/11 and wow.  i meet with him twice a week and he gives me exercises to do on the other 4 days.  sunday, i rest.  the sessions are great.  he’s stern but encouraging.  we laugh alot.  he lets me give him dirty looks when the exercises suck.  he pushes me.  and i sweat.  dear god do i sweat.  and i’m sore. there is a difference between hurt and sore, i’m learning.  hurt is pain.  it’s something wrong.  sore is good.  i want sore.  the muscles tearing and repairing… i feel like i’m back in PT again after the car accident.  i’m sore when i laugh.  i’m sore when i sit, when i stand, when i roll over, when i lift things.  instead of listening to me whine about how fat i am, rusty now has to listen to me whine about how sore i am.

burge measured me on our first day and i told him to give the numbers to rusty.  i didn’t want anything giving the ED a chance to rear it’s ugly head.  so rusty has my actual stats from day one.  out of curiosity, i stepped on the scale the other day.   know what it said?  172.8lbs.  that’s almost 8 pounds gone in 3 weeks.  talk about motivation.  so other than numerically,  it’s paying off.  my clothes DEFINITELY fit better.  i feel infinitely better (despite the sore).

i meet with burge again tonight and on wednesday morning.  bring it.  :-)