If not now, when?

20160105_221035The ads reads:

Why I joined Weight Watchers

Inside every overweight woman is the woman she knows she can be. You look in the mirror and sometimes don’t recognize yourself because you’ve gotten lost, buried in the weight.
But nothing you have been through is ever wasted. So every time I tried and failed, and every I tried again and every time I tried again has brought me to this most powerful moment to say if not now, when?
I feel that way and I know millions of you feel that way too.
Are you ready? Let’s do this together.  -Oprah

 

 

_____________________

I decided to write this post after the new year didn’t feel as new anymore. I’ve been notorious for writing bittersweet posts on December 31st/ January 1st about what a failure the last year has been, but how I’m putting it behind me and starting a new year with sunny optimism. I felt the same this year, if not better,  but something about posting on January 1st seemed like a trap.

On December 29th I signed up for Weight Watchers, again. I saw the ads and felt something spark in me. As an advertising graduate, I’m definitely not immune to the effects of a good ad. Oprah pulled me right in, but I wouldn’t attribute it all to her, over the holiday break I realized just how in denial I’ve been.

I have a favourite shirt. It’s sheer, black and as flattering as it gets for something with no stretch at all. I’ve had it for years, it’s my go to, I wear it over and over with no shame at all. I put it on a month ago and it felt too snug to wear but I threw a cardigan over it and prayed it would loosen up a bit as the day went on. It really shouldn’t have come as a surprise, I hadn’t felt comfortable in my clothes in months. Mind you, I also hadn’t weighed myself in weeks. When I got home, I took off my cardigan, went to take off my shirt and noticed the arm was ripped. I inspected it and knew it would be very hard to fix, if it even could be fixed. And then came the tears.

Flash forward to right after Christmas. I needed to get rid of the hideous monstrosity of an entertainment center in my bedroom so I went to Ikea to buy a new dresser and bookcase. I got home and started trying to demolish the entertainment center, huffing and puffing the whole time. After walking up and down 13 stairs 5 or 6 times, my 53 year old dad noticed how out of breath and fluorescent pink I was and asked if I needed to take a break.

On December 28th my family went to my grandparent’s house to see them before they left for Arizona for 3 months. It’s the longest they’ve ever been away and I was feeling irrationally abandoned. Before I left, my grandmother told me she wants to be get healthy, I could tell she was genuinely scared for me. My 75 year old grandmother is scared for me.

Last week I split the zipper in my $300 knee length winter jacket and the domes bust open when I sit.

I’m forever exhausted, sore, uncomfortable and out of breath.

All of this was bubbling up to the surface and when I saw that ad, it was the beacon of hope and clarity I needed.

I’ve always been chubby/big/fat/overweight. I was chubby baby and toddler, a big kid and teenager and I’ve been overweight all of my adult life. Trying to determine a goal size is extremely difficult because the lowest weight I’ve been in the last 5 years was 260. I’ve suppressed so much of out denial and shame, I can’t remember what size I was in middle school or high school. So I took a shot in the dark and decided my goal is a size 8-10, roughly.

I’m really sick of feeling embarrassed and uncomfortable, avoiding attention as much as I can.
I’m sick of being scared of being diagnosed with something terrible because of my weight.
I’m sick of how my weight plays a lead part in my social anxiety.
I’m sick of feeling the need to apologize for how much space I take up.
I’m sick of feeling the exact opposite of beautiful and alive and healthy.

A couple days ago it dawned on me it would be a good idea to take some before pictures . While I knew it was a good idea, the thought of it filled me with dread. I decided I was going to try and take a picture that could conceal “the damage”. I thought if I wore a baggier shirt and some leggings the picture I took wouldn’t be as cringe worthy. Instead, I captured a true representation of what I look like. Minus a big cardigan to hide behind, voluminous, bouncy hair  or a support garment to smooth down the lumps and bumps. I posted the the picture in a support group on Facebook  and on my weight loss inspired Instagram account @erinsdoingit. In a way it was like a ripping off a band aid, no more denial, no more hiding.

I bought a Fitbit in an awesome boxing day sale, I got a vegetable spiralizer for Christmas and I’ve been successfully tracking since I joined. It would appear I’m doing the damn thing.

And, it’s true, if not now, when?

 

Doing Things Differently

I started yesterday with the worst of intentions. I woke up with a horrible pain in my stomach and back, the kind of pain you can only attribute to being a woman. On top of that I was tired and miserable, already, much like I’ve started my day for a month.

I went about my morning routine, waking up the beasts and what not and getting them ready for school, and while I was filing up my water and downing my 3 Aleves (thanks for the tip Andrea!), I decided I would do things differently.

First, I didn’t turn the TV on at all, usually I turn it on at 9 and leave it on all day, sometimes I watch it, sometimes I just use it as background noise. Instead I turned on some jazz music and started cleaning and applying for some new job postings.

I usually spend my day pretty sedentary so instead I filled up my water bottle, grabbed my Kobo and hopped on the treadmill for 30 minutes. Then I did The Biggest Loser workout DVD for 20 minutes and walked up and down my 5 front stairs 15 times. There were exactly 13 times when I wanted to stop. I was tired and sweaty and I hate that feeling but I didn’t stop.

Because I didn’t eat breakfast I was ravenous after working out. I made myself this plate.

20131021_135346

 

Pretty damn impressive considering some of the processed crap I’ve been eating. The best part was how great I felt after, fresh, clean food makes my stomach happy, go figure.

I was going to go for a walk that evening because I love this time of year, when the sun is still bright and warm but the air is cool and you don’t sweat up a storm. However, it started to rain and I wasn’t that gung-ho so instead I did some core exercises, put away three loads of laundry and straightened up my room.

I got into bed early, spritzed myself with some perfume because it makes me feel nice, moisturized everything above my neck and called it a night early.

20131022_211120

 

Today I had some appointments and some errands to run and while my eating wasn’t as on point as yesterdays  managed to get in a walk before the sun went down.

I’m proud of the little changes that I’ve made and hope I keep them up!

I’m Not Fluent in Fitness

I’m fitness illiterate/phobic.

My fitness repertoire consists of walking and doing a bunch of stretches with a resistance band that I’m almost sure exercises zero of muscles. Coincidentally, the only fitness equipment I own is a treadmill and a resistance band.

This week I decided to venture to the health and fitness sections of Pinterest and StumbleUpon. I quickly realized that I actually have no idea what I’m doing. I was looking for full body, no equipment workouts and ended up having to Youtube everything because I had no idea what Russian twists and sumo squats were. I suppose, just like everything else, it’s a learning process. My body is probably the opposite of a blank canvas, and while the term whole body workouts seems intimidating to me, I was thinking of areas in which I should focus and ended up with my neck to my ankles. As full body as could be, right?

I’m a lazy person. When I was a kid my parents enrolled me in tons of classes and I enjoyed them all until it got too hard. When I started to get chubby and the leotards started to get too tight and the dancing stopped being ‘fun’ and started getting ‘hard’, I stopped. Same thing with dancing. The same as skating. I enjoy being good at things, I just sometimes shy away from having to work for it.

Last night I was thinking how much easier my weight loss process would be if I enjoyed exercising. If I only liked doing it, I would do it more often. Then I mentally smacked myself across the face because I realized you don’t have to enjoy it, you just have to do it. And keep doing it.

I relate it much to tracking and counting points, sometimes its tough but when you start losing weight and start seeing results, it makes it all worth while. And sure, of course there will be lulls in that motivation, but in the end, the highs seem to outweigh the lows when you’re in the groove. I bet it’s the same with exercising. You just do it until you start to see results, and then you keep doing it because it’s worth while. I can see it becoming addicting.

I’ve mentioned before that the idea of being able to sculpt your body by losing weight and exercising is so exciting and inspiring, probably because it’s pretty foreign to me.  While scrolling through Pinterest, I stumbled across a page that caters workouts to your body shape. Sound’s useful, however, I don’t know what my body shape is. I don’t think I’ve had a shape since middle school. So, this weekend my job is to take full body measurements and research all things fitness.

20131018_191412

 

Tell me, what workouts do you do? What do you love? Help a blog sister out.