Spandex: A Necessary Evil

Sometimes I get discouraged. Especially lately. I haven't seen much progress over the last two months and I know that it's because my routine and my discipline have been lacking. I knew from day one that both of those things would be essential to my journey. I also knew that the results I got initially would be much more drastic than the results I got a few months down the road. Big changes at first and then smaller ones - but it can still be discouraging. I haven't seen big changes lately, but I found the picture on the left from about a year ago and felt a little bit better knowing that I have changed and you can see it all over my face!

My focus needs to get sharper and I have a competition coming up in 2 weeks. I took a big step yesterday toward my goal by practicing in my singlet. This will be my first official USA Weightlifting sanctioned event and a singlet is the required uniform. So I got one and proceeded to freak out about having to wear it. "Spandex is not a right, it's a privilege" was a motto that I've held to since I was forced to wear spandex for volleyball in high school. Mortifying. Tight. I will give spandex it's due credit for being comfortable and nonrestrictive to movement in sports, but that doesn't mean it's flattering on everyone. Weightlifting suits aren't meant to be fashionable, it's all about function.

There are so many moving parts and intricacies to the lifts - so much more than picking up a heavy object and putting it down (contrary to popular beliefs). I knew that if I didn't wear the singlet until the competition I would be freaking out about it the entire time and all those little cues I needed to remember to hit my lifts would get shoved into some small corner of my brain while the idea of me in full-body spandex took up the bulk of my focus.

I decided to debut the singlet during some lifting practice at District CrossFit yesterday. I wasn't working out in a group, but the box was definitely full of people. I had "Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weeny Yellow Polka-Dot Bikini" stuck in my head - particularly the line about being afraid to come out of the locker... I did it in stages. Foam rolling with my jacket and pants on, a few PVC exercises with the jacket off, a few warm-up snatches. The fact that it's been in the 20s and 30s lately in DC was making it more difficult to strip down, but once I started to get warm, I figured I might as well get it over with and off came the pants.

I definitely felt half naked, but knew that no one was really paying attention to me so I just carried on with my workout and eventually I stopped thinking about it. It really wasn't as bad as I imagined. It's just a uniform and everyone else will be wearing them. No one will care about how I look, only how I lift. I even PRd my snatch yesterday and got really close to breaking 100lbs. The singlet is here to stay.



Being the Fat Girl

For the last week or so I have been dwelling on something that happened to me recently. It wasn't a new experience. In fact it has happened so many times in my life that I've lost count. It shouldn't have been that shocking, but it still bothers me. Someone told me I was fat.

 

It's not like it was something I didn't already know, as has always been the case whenever someone has said it, nor was it meant in a malicious or hurtful way, though that is how I'm used to it being said. I know that the person who said it didn't mean to hurt me, and didn't know that it would hurt me, partially because I had just met them but also because they were a child. A young boy, maybe 6 or 7 years old. It was merely his observation of me. A realization. So why did it feel like I was slapped? All I could do was chuckle nervously and say "I know."

 

The odd thing is that until he said that, I had almost talked myself into not feeling like the fat girl anymore. The fat girl that I've been for almost 20 years. The fat girl who has been a fat girl since the first time someone told me I was. Since 4th grade when I started to get a little bigger than all my peers and John S. wrote in my grade school autograph book: "I never did like you anyway." I wasn't always a fat girl. In fact, up until about the 4th or 5th grade I was usually one of the smallest kids in the class. At some point I was even labeled by a pediatrician as a "failure to thrive" child. I clearly proved him wrong.

 

Even from a child I barely knew, "you're fat" stung just as much as it had from the kids that tormented me all through middle and high school. Just as much as when the boys in gym class called me "Big Ginny." I can't explain it and I can't rationalize it. It just hurt. And it made me feel like no matter how old I get or how much weight I lose, that fat girl is still there and she's still hurting. Though it shouldn't matter so much what other people think of me, I don't want to be the fat girl anymore. I don't want to have to feel the shame of overhearing a class of 4 year-olds say "We have a fat teacher this year." Or have a 5 year old ask me if I ate too much candy and cake because she was trying to figure out how I got so fat. I don't want to ever be described as "the heavy-set girl in the striped sweater" like I was when a customer called the store where I worked and tried to describe the cashier (me) who had helped him. Why was I not the girl with brown hair? Or the girl with the nice smile? Or even the girl at the first register? I don't want to feel like the DUFF (Designated Ugly Fat Friend) when in a group of girls that are much smaller than I am.

I'm doing the best I can to not be that girl on the outside anymore, but I'm afraid that she'll still be in my head, no matter what I look like. I've already seen that even 80 pounds and several sizes smaller, I still gravitate towards clothes that end up being too big for me. I look at something and think, "there's no way that will fit me." I still cringe when people sit next to me and feel like I'm taking up way too much space. I still get wary of sitting in a booth because I don't want to look ridiculous trying to squeeze into it, even though I've proven to myself that I can fit. I still worry about breaking chairs. I know that I'm a long way from being fit or being thin. According to all weight tables and charts, I'm still obese and I'm not under any delusions that I'm not. It won't matter what the scale says or what I look like if I can't fix the inside as well.

 

Growing up I was told that things get better. Just get out of high school and college will be so much better. It was, to some degree, and I'm finding that, for the most part, adulthood is better still. If I've learned nothing else from CrossFit it's that people are amazing and surprising. I was terrified to start CrossFit when I saw the kind of people that were members of my box. The guys in the box initially struck me as grown-up versions of the people who teased me in high school. I was afraid that I would be looked down on or made fun of as the fat girl trying to workout. For the first few months I tried my best to stay at the back of the room, behind everyone else, so that as few people as possible would see me, thus lessening the chances that they would have something to make fun of me for. In every case I found myself proved wrong and was shown nothing but love and respect and support from everyone I met in the CrossFit world. That alone has helped to renew my faith in mankind and change the way I view myself. I am so thankful that people like them exist in the world.

 



In the spirit of change, I've decided to lose some weight on my heart and in my head as well. I'm going to start with forgiving the people that have hurt me in the past. For every instance of cruelty that I remember with blistering clarity, there are certainly 10 more that have faded into insignificance. There are countless people that I have considered enemies for many years, but I struggle to remember exactly why. I can't give the past the power anymore. For every way it weakened me, moving forward I have to make my past the thing that makes me strong.

Changing My Mind

I've said before that I find my inspiration everywhere. Not just inspiration for this blog, but inspiration for my life. Things that I see or hear that cause me to think about my life in a new way or give me a different perspective. Credit for this piece of inspiration goes to my friend Alicia. When I read her Facebook status the other day, it struck a chord I couldn't get it out of my head. I stewed on it for awhile and decided to write.

I have heard that when you make big changes in your life you may alienate old friends or have toxic people in your life that you really can't surround yourself with anymore. Like if you were an alcoholic and then get sober it's probably not best to hang around with all your old drinking buddies. I really didn't have that problem when I made my life changes. I didn't really have relationships that were holding me back or people that were encouraging me to make bad choices. It really was all on me and my biggest enemy is my head. If I've learned nothing else, it's that losing weight and fighting a food addiction is largely a mental game. How I think about myself, food, exercise, and the choices I make plays a huge part in my success and failure.

I have a love/hate relationship with Facebook. Sometimes it makes me sad and jealous when I see everyone with their families and babies and amazing vacations. It lets me keep in touch with people I don't get to see very often, or at all, but it also makes me miss them. One of the best things about Facebook for me, right now, is that it is a virtual support system. Every day I can bombard myself with positivity and inspiration by the pages and people that I follow. I get programming, pictures, event notifications, and "congratulations on your muscle up" updates from 8 different boxes. I see pictures and inspirational quotes from several CrossFit community pages. I learn about new products from all of the equipment and apparel companies I follow. I get technique tips on mobility and Olympic lifting from various blogs and websites. I get to celebrate the successes of friends near and far and get to share mine with them. I can get advice and encouragement when I find myself struggling. I can find new recipes or get advice on nutrition. I'm virtually surrounding myself with the right tools and with like minded people who all help in some way to keep me motivated. Sometimes all of that just isn't enough if the most important part of the equation isn't involved.

What I'm finding is that my mind is a key player that sits the bench a bit too often. No matter how much good information I throw at myself, sometimes it just doesn't stick. Sometimes I ignore all of what I know to be true and make bad decisions. I lie to myself. I talk myself out of good choices and into bad ones. I make myself a victim. I let others talk me into things I really should avoid. I say yes too quickly when I should say no. I tell myself that I'm fighting hard, that I'm not giving up, but I do. I may not have completely given up, but in little ways I give up over and over again. When I plan to go to the box and change my mind, or I buy food that I know I shouldn't eat, in that moment, for that choice, I gave up on working toward my goal. If I choose something that isn't going to help me, isn't going to move me forward, then I am in essence choosing to move backward.

This realization is why I'm changing my mind. Not "about" what I'm doing, but about how I'm doing it and what I think and say about what I'm doing.

My overall goal is the get healthy. The things I am doing to meet this goal are changing the way I eat and increasing my activity level with CrossFit training and Olympic weightlifting. Changing the way I eat in combination with cardio and weightlifting has helped me to loose fat and build muscle. It's made me stronger, healthier, happier, and has made me feel better overall. These are the things I need to focus on when I make choices. Will this choice help me loose fat or build muscle? Will this choice make me stronger? Will I feel better if I choose this? Will I be happier? Anytime the answer is no, I need to say it. Firmly. And be happy that I said no. And anytime I answer the question wrong (a no when it should be yes - a yes when it should be no) I need to recognize that and own it.

When people ask about what I'm doing, I need to answer in a way that gives me the power. That makes what I'm doing my choice. I'm not eating "Paleo" anymore. I'm not on a diet. I'm choosing to eat healthy foods that make me feel good and fuel my performance. I'm choosing to avoid foods that don't. I won't say "I can't" or "I'm not supposed to" or "I'm not allowed to." It feels much stronger to say "I don't." That makes it my choice. I've decided not to do it. I won't have cheat meals or days. If I've chosen to eat something that is going to make me feel bad, then I know very well what that will mean. I know that one day of eating really bad food will make me feel like hell for almost a week. It's happened enough times (more than it should have) for me to know this with certainty. One day of bad food is not worth a week of feeling like death. Not anymore.

None of this is new or groundbreaking. I'm sure that we've all heard this. I've heard it too, but the difference is that I'm ready to believe it and do it. I'm changing the way that I think, speak, and act. I'm changing my mind. Hopefully this will spark more changes and get me back on track. It's been awhile since I have really worked hard in the box and done a full out WOD and I know that my first one back is going to suck. A lot. It's going to feel like starting over and I don't want to have to start over. It wasn't that long ago that I started and I don't want to have to feel that again. I made choices that put me in this position. I gave up too many times. If I didn't want to start over, I shouldn't have given up. I'm gonna stop that.

Thanks Alicia. YOU inspire me.

Biggest Winner

Season 14 of The Biggest Loser started tonight. Of course I watched, like I have almost every season, except this year is much different. In previous years I would typically host a weekly pity party with only one attendee, watch The Biggest Loser while eating ridiculous amounts of terrible food, and lament about the fact that I was never going to be able to do what the people on TV were doing.

There would be a crushing realization and a pit in my stomach during every first week weigh-in when I was smacked upside the head with the fact that not only was I usually bigger than the biggest girls on the show, I was bigger than several of the men too. For anyone who has never had to stare down the daunting prospect of losing 100-200 pounds, it seems utterly hopeless and insurmountable. For me, watching The Biggest Loser made the task seem even more hopeless because I started to get in a head space that being on a TV show with professional trainers, in a contained situation with everything provided for me was the only way that weight loss like I was facing would be possible. Instead of feeling inspired by all these people changing their lives, I would get jaded and think "Of course they could do it, look at all the help they had."

I think there are many things that are good about shows like The Biggest Loser, in theory. They provide inspiration and a catalyst for many people. They have helped to encourage a culture of fitness and change for communities and have brought problems like childhood obesity to the American consciousness. To a certain extent they also address nutrition and the underlying emotional and psychological issues behind obesity, which are such important pieces to the puzzle. What bothers me is how it creates unrealistic expectations and all the game play and I think if they really wanted to help people, why kick them off and send them home? You don't get to fully understand that these people are doing nothing but working out 6-8 hours a day without any other outside stressors and then you get discouraged when you can't lose 10-20 pounds a week like they do.

I filled out the Biggest Loser application several times, and it's a LONG application. It asks a lot of tough questions about why you want to lose weight and how you became overweight. One that always got me was "List your 3 closest female and 3 closest male friends" - I could never come up with enough people to answer that question. Every time I chickened out and never submitted a tape or went to a casting call. A few years ago I got an email from the company that casts the Biggest Loser about an open call for a show that ended up being Extreme Makeover: Weight Loss Edition. I did some research and after talking it over with my parents I found myself on a midnight Greyhound bound for Nashville. It was probably the longest day of my life and talking with the producers in front of others about what brought me there was a big turning point for me. Even though I didn't get called back for the show and it would be awhile before I really got going on my journey, that trip was important.

What is different about watching The Biggest Loser this year, even though I'm still bigger than some of the contestants, is that my mindset has changed. The Biggest Loser is no longer an aspiration for me. I don't need it. I'm not jaded or jealous of the opportunities these people have. I mean, don't get me wrong, when all is said and done it would be nice to win a whole lot of money for losing weight, but the ultimate prize I'm shooting for is health and happiness. Weight loss is still difficult and it's still daunting, but it no longer seems hopeless or unattainable. I've already lost 80 pounds and I've done so in a much more realistic and sustainable way. For every contestant on The Biggest Loser who does change their life and changes it for good, there is another that gains back some of the weight they've lost and is unable to maintain the changes outside of the unrealistic world of "The Ranch."

I didn't need a TV show and I didn't need Bob, or Jillian, or Dolvett., I just needed someone to believe in me and help me believe in myself.

I had Amanda, Jay, Adam D, Stephanie, Kevin, Kelsey, Adam P, Alicia, Brock, Jason, Crystal, Neal, and my team at Brickhouse who got me started and who help me when I visit home. Now I also have Andrew, Noah, Kate, Justin, Josh, Quinn, Sean, Aldo,  Hank, Amelia, Ellie, Jenn, Mike, and my team at District who welcomed me in when I moved to DC and are continuing to challenge me and help me grow and reach my goals.

I didn't need a Ranch. I have a box, and that's even better.