Perspective

There's been several times over the last year or so that I have been in a hole and thought that things were incredibly crappy and have asked for some perspective. A few times I was presented with the answer in the form of something pretty awful happening that made me realize that whatever I had been dwelling on was not really as bad as I thought.

I haven't been having a great week. I haven't been happy and more times than I'm proud to admit I've reverted back to dealing with my unhappiness by eating really bad foods. This used to make me feel better. I used to find comfort in eating myself into a semi-coma. I realize now that I lived in a constant state of suck that I perpetuated by continuing to eat more and more terrible things that made me feel physically as terrible as I felt emotionally. Before the bad food didn't make me feel as bad as it does now. So now, instead of feeling equally as terrible inside and out, I feel much, much worse. This coping mechanism clearly is not working for me and I'm going to endeavor to find a new one.

I'm trying to take a few steps back and get a look at the bigger picture and I think I found my perspective. This time my answer wasn't that things are worse for others, but that my life now is much better than it used to be and my bad days now aren't as rough as my bad days used to be because of the work that I've done over the last 10 months. I've done so much to change my life and after making myself feel so horrible I want more than ever to keep working hard and never go back to the person I used to be.

This weekend marked 10 months since I started CrossFit and my goal for the next two months is to work hard. No excuses. I want to be consistent with my workouts, even when I'm not feeling it, I'm going to go anyway. I can't be upset with the results I'm not getting if I'm not being honest about how hard I'm working. I'm really excited about the CrossFit Open and I can't wait to push myself beyond what I think is possible. I decided to only weigh in at competitions and my next one is at the one year anniversary. I hope that I will have passed the 100 pound milestone by then and I'm going to do whatever it takes to hit this goal.

Sometimes I lose sight of the big picture and so I go back to the pictures. I'm glad that I've kept up with documenting my journey because it really does help me to realize that even though I still have a long way to go I have made a great amount of progress. I don't always see it day by day, but the hard work is working, so I've got to keep working hard.



Finally able to fit into pants from Lululemon!!

Competition

The teacher in me believes that there is something valuable to be learned in every situation. I've always been an inquisitive person and I truly enjoy learning as much as I can about everything, especially things that interest me. That's why I ask so many questions. (Sorry coaches) I like to understand why things are the way the are, why something is useful (or not), the best and worst ways to do things, how things work, the reason behind things, why people believe the things they believe. It's how I make sense of the world. Babies put things in their mouths - I ask lots of questions.

This weekend I competed in my first USA Weightlifting sanctioned meet, the 2013 Baltimore Open. I entered this competition on whim after I registered for the RVA Open in April, solely because I was really excited about starting to compete and didn't want to have to wait until April. Baltimore wasn't that far away, and I'd never been there, and it looked like fun. Also, I wanted to learn. Even if I knew I wouldn't win, or hit impressively heavy lifts, or have the greatest technique, I saw value in just being in a competitive environment. Taking part in the meet and experiencing what competition feels like in a sanctioned meet. Everyone has to start somewhere and even if they start in last place, it's still a start.

I didn't feel very prepared going into this meet and didn't make much progress over the month and a half since the CrossFit Olympic lifting competition I entered in December, so my expectations for Baltimore were pretty low. I was planning on being conservative with my attempts and hitting as many of them as I could. I didn't want to make a fool of myself, but I wanted to get the feel for the flow of the meet and the rules and the timing of warm-ups. I wanted to see how other lifters acted and prepared. I wanted to push myself out of my comfort zone and try something new in a new city and see what I could learn.

The first thing I quickly learned is that you really ought to have a coach with you at a competition, especially if you're new and just starting out. I was intimidated seeing the other lifters interacting with their coaches and watching their warm-ups. I felt panicked and like I suddenly had no clue how I should warm-up and how I was going to be ready when it was my turn. I tried to get out of my head and put on my headphones and my "angry" playlist. I did some foam rolling and stretching. I went outside and ran up and down the sidewalk. None of this was working and I was getting more and more nervous. I thought I was going to be okay without coach, but the longer I was there the more I wished I had one. I was lucky that one of the coaches was able to find me a coach who took me through my warm-ups and made sure I got to the platform on time and gave me some helpful tips and cues. Best of all he made it so I didn't have to worry about anything but lifting.

Another important thing I learned is that I need to be okay with missing a lift, or at least look like I am. I had two lifts where I got one red light and only one that I completely missed. I have a pretty good idea why I got the red lights and why I missed the lift, and I think they're all easily fixable, but that failed lift really bugs me because of the way I reacted to it. I also had a bad reaction to the lift I missed in competition in December. I wouldn't know this if I didn't have video of both fails and it makes me want to react with more grace when I fall short of a goal, not just in lifts, but in life. I've seen videos of top notch lifters missing and they smile, shrug it off, take a bow, and leave the platform. In the Olympics. If they can be okay with a missed lift in that level of competition, surely my failures aren't worth getting upset over. So that's one thing (among many) that I'm going to work on between now and April.

Here's the video of all my lifts from this weekend. I'm glad that I have these and that my friend Alison came to cheer me on and take them for me. They'll be good to look back on as I progress in this sport and I'll be able to see how far I've come.

 

 

Oh, and this also happened this weekend.

 

 

 

I hadn't thought about it over the last few months, and it's not like I haven't been driving, but I haven't adjusted the seat in my Jeep since I've lost weight and on my drive home to visit my family on Sunday I started to have this feeling that I was really far back. My feet were still touching the gas and brake fine, but then I realized that my stomach doesn't touch the steering wheel anymore. It really is the little things. (No - I wasn't driving when I took the picture. I was stopped.)

Yet

Many people have said that can't should not be part of your vocabulary if you want to succeed. I think that can't is okay in certain contexts. It's good to be aware of your limitations at any given moment in time. The important thing is that any can't should be followed by a yet. Yet is hopeful. Yet thinks of the future. Yet is full of possibility.

When I started CrossFit I could have said, "I can't do burpees." I probably did say it. When I weighed 353 pounds it was difficult for me to get down on the floor and I was afraid of putting pressure on my knees and of looking like an injured elephant trying to get back up. I might have been able to do regular burpees in the beginning, probably not the prettiest looking ones, but instead I did a modified version up against a weight bench. Then I was shown that I could get down on the floor and get myself back up, and I haven't looked back. Every time I have to do burpees in a WOD I kinda get a happy feeling inside, even though burpees are still hard and still suck, because I CAN do them. They're still not pretty, but they get better and faster every time. To me burpees are a symbol for building strength - repeatedly throwing yourself down on the floor,  but always getting back up, and celebrating that feat by jumping up and clapping for yourself. (Never thought of them quite that way, did you?)

I probably said, "I can't get up off the floor" or "I can't run." I probably didn't say yet, and I should have because almost 10 months later none of those things are true. I didn't say the yet in the beginning because I wasn't sure that those things would be possible. I hadn't proven to myself that I was strong enough, or capable enough, to do things that seemed impossible. I know better now.

I currently have a long list of "Can't Yets." These are just some of them.

I Can't:
1. Do pull-ups
2. Do a muscle-up
3. Squat, Snatch, or Clean my body weight
4. Do consistent 20" box jumps
5. Do handstand push-ups
6. Fit into women's pants at Lululemon
7. Take a trapeze flying class (I currently exceed the weight limit)

YET

These are all things I can't do now, but that doesn't mean that I don't want to be able to do them, or that I will never be able to do them. All said and done, some of them may take me years to achieve, or not be possible at all, but that won't stop me from trying. Yet allows me to dream and hope that I can be and do more than I currently am and can do.

I think that what we say about ourselves is very important to our success. I think that what we say is reflective of how we think. Even if we say we're joking, there is some element of truth in what we say. I remember dropping in on a box out of town and lifting with some girls who commented that they couldn't lift as much as me because they were weaklings. That made me sad. I really wanted them to say yet - "I can't lift as much as you, yet." They should never feel like they're weak. The fact that they lift at all makes them strong. Everyone starts somewhere and if they keep at it they'll lift more than they ever thought possible.

So, be mindful of what you can and can't do. Know who you are and what you're capable of in this moment, but don't let it limit what you can be. Do burpees and celebrate that you can do them. Say yet. Mean it.




And then there's this, for my little sister Sammi. (Beware of foul language.)

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.