I've never been a skinny girl. Okay, so maybe I only weighed 5 lb 6 oz at birth, but I grew by leaps and bounds from that day forward. I've always been overweight. I see no shame in this at all. In fact, I use it for a lot of my "making fun of myself" jokes. I can already hear the grumbles. I can hear some of you saying, "Stop that nonsense. You are beautiful, no matter your size". I never said I wasn't beautiful. I just said I wasn't "model thin". I like to eat. Sue me. As a result of my love for all things food, I have become a pretty permanent fixture at many gyms in the last several years. I really got "serious" about my weight back in college. I use quotes for a reason. Everyone knows college is THE worst place to try and diet. Like I could really think about watching what I eat with Pizza Express breadsticks and Jiffy Treet ice cream around every corner. That's a big temptation for a chubby girl like me. If it's really true that " you are what you eat", then I was walking around as a giant stick of bread covered in cookie dough. . Plus, once I moved off campus, the amount of walking I did at IU was pretty much null and void. Are you kidding me? I drove to class, nearly right up to the front door of the building if that was possible. Let's face it...I was lazy. So, I started going to the student recreational center. It was huge. And, quite honestly, intimidating. Most of the people there looked like they skipped down sorority row with their matching Nike bra tops and spandex shorts. Me? Well, I wore whatever was clean at the time. Mostly, a large array of oversized shirts and baggy pants. Granted, I was there to get fit, but I wasn't about to let the whole place see all my fat rolls.
After the initial shock of seeing all the pretty people there, I headed for the elliptical machine. From a distance, it looked so daunting, so evil. Like, it was secretly laughing at the mere thought of me even attempting to use it. Of course, I chose this particular piece of equipment because it was in the very back. Less chance of everyone's eyes on the "big girl". So, I started. And, it was hard. Really hard. After about two minutes, I thought I was going to die. Or, explode. Either scenario suited me just fine. I wanted off. And, I wanted off NOW. It didn't help matters that there was a big wall of mirrors right behind me. Occasionally, I would look back and think to myself, "does this elliptical make me look fat?" My ass looked like the size of several bowling balls. But, I was bound and determined to last ten minutes. If memory serves me correctly, I think I barely made it. When finished, I hopped off, so proud of my accomplishment. I wanted to sink into the floor and sleep. I was tired. I vowed right then and there that, no matter what, I would try and make this a big part of my life. The breadsticks and ice cream were gonna have to make room for a third potential love of my life. And, that was exercise.
The first time wasn't so bad. It was a nice first date. We really got to know each other. Rather, the elliptical realized quickly that I was a hot mess and it was going to have to slow down and get to know me first before making any rash decisions. I saw something in that little elliptical that day. And, in me. I can't remember the exact day. Like, no one ever asks me, "Where were you the first time you exercised?" It's not as monumental as, say, your exact location when JFK was shot. But, it sure was a big moment in my life.
My next adventure in the world of "fit and trim" was in Indy. Lifetime Fitness, to be exact. That place was HUGE. And, that may even be an understatement. When I finally made it to the floor with all the exercise equipment, my jaw dropped. There were treadmills, ellipticals and bikes that went on for what seemed like miles. TV's covered practically every inch of that place. Mirrors, too. Unless I am working on my own personal "gun show", I don't want to see myself working out. It's just not attractive. At any rate, I made a bee line for the elliptical. It's what I knew. It was my old boyfriend. He hadn't let me down at IU and I figured this would be no different. Everything about this place was HUGE. Boobs (probably fake). Biceps (probably NOT fake). Calves. Egos. It was insane. And, I was loving every minute of it. I went nearly every single day...religiously. I wanted to sweat. Like, maybe I was starting to become addicted to it. Me? Addicted to anything other than food? This was starting to alarm me. I actually enjoyed working out. WTH? Who actually gets up on a daily basis and yearns to work out? Well, I was starting to and it was making me angry. It had taken over my entire body and I was a slave to it. At this particular time in my life, I had also bravely joined a Weight Watchers group, too. Talk about intimidating! I was 22. I didn't know anything about life. And, here I was, trying to control my weight and my love of food all at once.
The first week on the program was rough. Actually, it was more than rough. It was hell. I was constantly hungry. I told myself to just get through the first week. Surely, it would get better after the first week. Well, the first weigh-in after I had started had arrived. I was nervous. Sweating. Shaking. About ready to throw up. I got up on the scale...surprise! I lost. And, I lost big! I couldn't believe it. It took me about three weeks before I finally started to really get into the swing of it but, after about nine months of WW and the big "gym that could", I was down 50 lbs. I had so much more energy. I was invincible. I wanted to go, do, see everything! It was amazing.
Then, I moved home to go to nursing school. Throughout school (okay, so I gained some weight back after moving home!), I rejoined a program here in town. I ended up losing all the weight I had gained and a few extra lbs. At this point, I would've told you I could do anything. Fly a plane. Walk a high-wire. Cure world hunger. Anything. It didn't matter. I had enough energy for ten people!
Fast-forward several years, a thyroid surgery, and one of THE worst shifts to work (NIGHTS!) and I have gained most of the weight back. Does this mean I don't like myself? Hell no. Because, I learned a few lessons along the way. It really doesn't matter what you look like. First and foremost, you have to learn to love yourself, no matter your size. In the grand scheme of life, I'm really not that big. Sure, I could stand to lose 25 lbs. But, I'm NOT gonna kill myself in order to achieve that goal. I still go to the gym. I try and not shovel everything food-wise in my mouth (which is good, because I loathe mushrooms) and I try and stay active. I am thankful my body still allows me to work out. I push the limits at the gym. I even started to run last year. Me, a "runner". I've only been able to run consistently for thirty minutes. Hey, it's a start. For this big girl, it's monumental.
To make a long story short (too late!), you may not have all the time in the world. Take fifteen minutes. If you're in a parking lot, make it a point to parker farther and farther away each week.That way, I can park closer. Hey, it's the least I can do for you. Drink more water. Eat a few less fries. Easier said than done. Fries are evil. And, I love them. On your lunch break, walk a few laps around your building. It's the little things that make a big difference.
My point is this...eat what you want, maybe just a little less. Drink what you want, maybe just a little less. Find something that you love to do and do it on purpose. Life's too short to get worked up in a person's size. No matter if I'm a 6 or a 16, I'm still gonna keep on bein' me, the biggest smart ass you know. Now, where's my DQ?
Who cares if the elliptical makes me look fat? At least I am on it. :)
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