“My legs are sooo fat.”

When Lillie was 3 years old, she grabbed her thighs, sighed very loudly and said,

“Ugh, my legs are sooo fat.”

I would hope your reaction was the same as mine – surely, she didn’t just say her legs were fat. So, I turned down the radio (we were in the truck) and asked her as calmly as I could, “What did you say Lillie?”

And she repeated, “My legs are fat.”

My mind immediately ran through any and everything I may have said over the course of her entire lifetime that would have pushed her towards this conclusion. I came up with nothing. I don’t even say fat. I’ve even stopped other people from saying that in front of her. (I don’t have a problem with the word, to me it’s just an adjective, I have an issue with the context in which it was used.)

While I have had my fair share of weight issues, when I had Lillie, my perspective changed. My behaviors changed. I no longer made audible comments about my body or talked about food in a negative way (ex: I can’t eat that. It has too much fat. etc.) I became more active and my focus switched to being healthy as opposed to just being thin or restrictive. I had hoped by doing these things, by pro-actively sharing a positive body image in the woman she is around the most, that she would recognize her self-worth is not tied exclusively into her body – even though it can often feel that way for a girl, heck for a woman.

So, when she made this very wrong assessment about her growing body, about her toddler body, all I wanted to do was hug her, squish her close to me and tell her she was beautifully made no matter what size her thighs appeared to be. In fact, that’s probably what I would do to any of you lovely people reading right now but since she was only 3, I needed a more logical approach, one that would appeal to her current interests in the event that this would happen again. I didn’t want to ignore this comment and excuse it by thinking she wasn’t aware of what she was saying (but I mean, what if she knew exactly what she was saying and I just let her talk about herself in that way? Not acceptable.)

I decided to pull the truck over to the side of the road, asked God to help me find the words I needed and unbuckled my seat belt.

I knew by stopping the truck it would catch her attention and she immediately questioned, “Why are we stopping?”

And as I turned back to her, I found the words.

“Do you like to run?”

Yes.

“And you love to play really hard, right? Going down the slide and swinging, right?”

Yeah.

“Well, the only way we are able to do those awesome, fun things is by having muscles. You know how we show our muscles in our arms?”

Yeah.

“We actually have muscles all over our body. In our legs, our back, even our face! Pretty cool, huh?”

IN OUR FACE??

“Yep, that’s how we can smile. And that’s how we can run because of those muscles in our legs. That’s how mama runs. And how I pick you up in the air. It’s muscles.
So, saying your legs are fat isn’t exactly right. You just have big, strong muscles that we want to keep growing so we can run faster and play harder. That’s why we drink water and eat our fruits and vegetables, because they help our body grow those muscles. Okay?”

Okay.

I turned back around and we went about the rest of our day. And for the last year, I’ve tried reinforcing that conversation whenever I could. She runs “super fast” (her words) and when she finishes she’ll show me her muscles. When she asks for a water instead of juice, I give her a high-five. When she chooses to eat a banana instead of ice cream, I comment on what a good choice she’s made for her body.

I hate that she ever thought her legs were fat but it did help make our health a part of the conversation and for that I’m grateful. I strive to show her a balance and I’m learning as I go. We still regularly cook chicken nuggets from box, eat ice cream, share a soda, make cookies (which includes eating the dough!) and enjoy what we eat. Food is not something we revolve our life around, it’s just something we take care of in order to have the energy to do the things we want to do.

As she gets older, we’ll work on expanding our knowledge of health & food & exercise based on her maturity and what’s going on in her life. (I remember kids making fun of others in my 1st grade for their size!)

This particular incident helps serve me as a reminder of how easily influenced small children can be, even if they don’t realize what it is they’re saying/conveying.

I still don’t know where she picked up that thought – whether it was from a friend from school who has heard her parents talk about being fat, or from something on television/radio, or from someone close to us who maybe made an off-the-cuff remark to another adult without realizing the impact those words would make, this is an important conversation to have with our children. Hell, it’s an important conversation to have with ourselves.

I know I’m not going to be able to protect her from everything. From people’s opinions, from the media, even from her own voice of doubt – but I do plan on giving her the tools to break free from those things. Kindness being one of the most important tools in my book – and not only to other people but to herself. Speaking kindly and positively about your your body and your character can drastically change your own attitude (living proof right here) and create a better quality of life for you & those around you. And that’s why, I stopped the truck. And why I didn’t chalk this up to a kids say the darndest thing moment. Because one day, that kid is going to be an adult and what a terrible waste of this beautiful life we have if all we concentrate on is how ‘fat’ our thighs are. 

The Best Possible Me

One of the things I’ve learned about myself in the past 6 weeks is that I stress eat. I don’t even realize I’m  doing it half the time. I mean, I know that I am eating I just don’t realize how much I’m eating.

Bluntly put - I have gained back what I had previously lost over the past couple of years with running & exercise. I’ve been able to maintain that weight loss but with the over-eating & the under-exercising, it crept up on me & while I will never equate my self-worth with the weight on the scale I do hate the feeling of sucking in while buttoning up my pants.

I think one of my biggest issues with actually losing weight is that I like myself. I look at my body and I’m proud of what it has done for me & what it continues to do for me. I have come a long way from the girl who couldn’t jog 30 feet without her heart flying from her chest. And then I think, why would I want to lose weight when I can enjoy my life just the way I am? I can run for miles, I can zip up my pants, I have wonderful friends & family – why can’t I enjoy that extra piece of cake? And so I do. And I never really lose weight. I go up & down within a 10 lb frame over a course of a couple months & I’ve really only learned how to maintain.

Well, until I un-learned it by stress-eating.

My problem is not moving more. I can settle into a routine & be good to go, my problem is what I eat & the amount of it that I eat. I’ve tried entering food into My Fitness Pal & while it is a wonderful tool & helped me see what I’m doing, it does not hold me accountable. I see I’ve lost 3 lbs, I think I need a treat for doing so, then I’m right back where I started.

I guess the whole you can’t out train a bad diet mantra is true. Sigh.

Before I had Lillie, I lost about 30 lbs doing Weight Watchers. I was successful because I was being held accountable by others (and because I was paying for it!) – this was before they rebooted the program with the different point system. I tried doing it right after the reboot (and right after Lillie) but my mind was so confused with the new & old system, I gave it up. Then, I found running and well, losing weight wasn’t at the top of my list because I was just focusing on establishing a running routine.

I received an email offering 50% off for 3 months with WW online. I signed up and have been on it for a week. I did really well the first part of the week, then the weekend & Halloween candy extravaganza happened. After my weigh-in this morning, I thought perhaps to hold myself even more accountable I should blog about it. While I’m sure this won’t be everyone’s cup of tea, I plan on posting every Monday where I’m at and what my plans/goals are for the week. And whatever I may be struggling with or thinking about.

I promise they all won’t be this long. Or…well, never mind I won’t promise that. I get wordy sometimes. (Clearly.)

So, here goes.

Week 1: October 27-November 2

Starting Weight: 197.6 lbs
Current Weight: 195.2 lbs
Weekly Weight Loss: -2.4 lbs

My ultimate goal weight is 155 lbs. I can recall being comfortable at the weight years ago & based on my height, it is a reasonable long term goal. However, that is a lot of weight to focus on, so I’ll be focusing on 5% of my body weight at a time (this is WW recommendation & to be honest, makes it a lot less scary.) I would really like to start my 30s (next August!) being the best possible version of myself I can be.

Current Goal Weight: 183.7 lbs

Once I reach this point, I’ll reward myself with something (not sure yet what, but it won’t be food) – likely a pair of shoes. Because, duh, shoes. 

Next week, I’ll plan on laying out my training plan schedule (I have to figure it out) because I have a half-marathon I would like to complete kill at the end of January 2015.

Being Kind…to yourself

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I totally missed my own link-up last week. Yep, made it to Friday before I even realized. I’m a winner like that. But I’m doing it today, so that counts for something, right? Join me if you can! (Sorry for the confusion.)

If you’re new here, this link-up is every Wednesday and it’s based off these two articles – here and here. You are welcome to take the points in any direction you choose, what I go off of is only something to get the ol’ brain ticking. Original post is here.

Previous posts: Week 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 & 9.

Week 8! (One week late!)

I’ve noticed while working through these writing prompts for the past 9 weeks that a lot of it comes back to my daughter. I always thought it was pretty cliché to hear parents say, “Oh, things changed when I became parent!” because prior to motherhood that sounded pretty fucking ridiculous to me. A child is a person, you take care of them sure, but really how hard can that be – change some diapers, have food & shelter, enroll them in school, easy peasy chicken greasy, right?

Apparently there’s this thing though where they learn by example by the people they are around. And who is Lillie around 98% of the time? ME. I feel like there’s this focus when raising children to make them smarter than the rest when I really think as a society we should focus on making them kinder. Teach them empathy, sympathy, compassion – the rest will follow at its own pace.

(Totally want my kid to be smart, don’t get me wrong, but the focus on having the best kid EVER at any cost is really intimidating on both ends of the spectrum)

After my round of post-partum where I said the most vile things to myself every day for at least a year in my head, things started changing when I started exercising. Instead of focusing on all my flaws I started noticing all the great things about myself (I also had most of you cheering me on and having that support helped immensely!) I started liking myself again and the voice in my head did too – I became more positive in how I approached myself and the outside world. During this time, I also noticed how quickly Lillie was picking up on things.

She was starting to mimic me and that just continues to become more apparent the older she gets. I never want her to feel less of a person because of her physical attributes (which happens to be what I’m most unkind to myself about) and I want her to understand that just because your body isn’t what you want it to be, doesn’t mean it isn’t perfect the way that it is. A lot of that is going to come from me by the way I project myself at home.

Things I actively don’t do: (by active I mean, sometimes I have to stop myself because it almost feels natural to think that way, which is really sad and kind of indicative of the culture we live in)

• Say I’m fat (even if I’m feeling that way) out loud
  
• weigh myself and act disgusted about it
  
• cry out loud when clothes don’t fit the way I want them too (Lillie is usually right underneath me at all times, so she’s privy to me changing clothes on the daily)
  
• saying I can’t eat something

Overall, I would say I’m kind to myself because I am actively trying to be kind to myself. I work at it every day (I also have wonderful support from my husband whose loved me at 120 lbs and at 205 lbs) but it certainly has gotten easier the more I do it.

Are You Yourself?

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It’s Week 5! [I’m seriously amazed I’m keeping up with this as well as I am!]

As a quick run down, this link-up is based on these two articles – here and here. You are free to take the topics in any direction you like – I am only providing a guideline to get the ball rolling. Hell, I may not even follow what I wrote. I’m a rebel in that way.

You can find the remaining topics by clicking here or downloading the PDF.
If you’re interested in how the previous weeks went down – Week 1, Week 2, Week 3 & Week 4.

I try to embrace me for me. Sometimes though, it’s a real struggle. Especially when I get a case of the Facebook Envy. You know, when someone posts something that’s simply amazing and in no way could ever be something you post. Like a trip to Europe. Or losing 30 lbs in two weeks.

Social media is wonderful in that it can connect you to people in your life you wouldn’t typically get to see. (Shout out to all my East Middle School alums!) But it’s also a crap-chute for the same reason. Sometimes I don’t need to know that Johnny is now a multi-billionaire because he won the lottery from he ticket he picked up off the ground in a neighborhood he never frequents and then subsequently lost 30 lbs by quitting soda.

It can make me feel like I’m not enough. And that feeling is total shit.

As I’ve gotten older and honestly, since becoming a parent, I find it easier to just stay true to who I am. I am flawed, I make mistakes but I accept responsibility for them, and I don’t seek out the approval of others as I did when I was a 16 year old naive girl who couldn’t understand how anyone couldn’t like me.

My motivation to be the best version of me, on my own terms, really did come from having my daughter. That may not be the case for everyone and I would never suggest having a child to fulfill your own selfish desires – but it was certainly a byproduct of having her (for me anyway). I wanted to be a better person – someone who didn’t shy away when they witness something crappy happening, someone who focused on being healthy instead of skinny, someone who brought happiness into the world and not deceit. And so I actively work on those things – internally and externally.

Internally by the way I speak to myself. I, like most people, have talked shit to myself in a way I would never dream of talking to anyone else.

You can’t wear that, your fat is trying to escape from the top & the bottom of those shorts.
That joke wasn’t even funny. You are so fucking stupid.
You can’t be serious, no one would ever want to hang out with you.

That is probably the hardest thing to work on – not doubting myself to myself.

Externally, I focus on the good because I want to be a great walking, talking example for my daughter. She’s at the age (3!) where she learns by doing & watching (but really, aren’t we always at that age?) and I want to minimize the self-hate talks as much as possible. It’s one of the things I’m most passionate about in regards to my daughter. And it’s one of the things I struggle with constantly.

I try to embrace my flaws in a way that acknowledges them but doesn’t accentuate them.

---

Fitness Age

I’ve been more active in the past two years of my life (since starting this running journey) than I had in the 26 years prior. Most of the time my focus and intent was on being healthier as opposed to losing weight. Not that I don’t want to lose weight, I just know how discouraging it can be when you don’t see the results you want right away – been there, done that – and thought I’d try a different approach with hopes that the weight would just come off with all the exercise/training I’m doing.

Well, it doesn’t. The only real way I’ve found that I lose weight is by changing my diet and to be honest, I’m not always that interested in putting forth the effort to eat ‘better’. I kind of like the fact that taking the time to enjoy my grilled cheese sandwich (extra cheese, please) with mayo & tomato doesn’t have to be the end of my life as I know it.

I started the year sitting at 190 lbs, proudly. I have no shame in that number because I worked really hard for it. I own that shit.

I’m currently hanging around 179 on a good day and 182 the day after a fun little binge fest. I’m owning that shit too. Because I don’t feel like I weigh 182 as opposed to when I did weigh 182 a few years ago prior to baby weight and definitely prior to any actual type of physical fitness.

My 182 from then is way different from my 182 now. Just goes to show you that that what they say is true – exercise does change your body, even if it doesn’t change the scale.

Oh, the days of bleach blonde hair – how I don’t miss thee.

I’ve talked about my Moj days where I do some kind of cross-training, death spiral into sweatiness ridiculousness with a good friend of mine, Mojgan. This was right before death by 45 minutes of stairs.I promise I never look that un-sweaty at the end of a workout with this lady. She’s not a personal trainer. Just a wonderful person who truly cares about other people. She’s always led a healthy lifestyle and has been weight training for 15+ years, she’s a great resource for information and inspiration for me. I don’t know if I would have pushed myself as hard as I have these past two years if it weren’t for her.

Anyway, she sends us articles from time-to-time (to keep up motivation) and most recently this is what hit my inbox -

What’s Your Fitness Age?

It’s a short article, so you have time to read it – promise! But basically, it goes on to tell you how a scientific study resulted in an online calculator that tells you what your fitness age is based on a couple of different items.

Fitness Calculator

I’m the Great 28 and since I tend to assume the worst on things of this nature, I figured my fitness age would be *hopefully* somewhere in the late 30s, probably early 40s. But I was ridiculously happy to find out, I’m 29! For the record, Moj’s fitness age is 20. I won’t reveal her biological age but I’m betting that’s at least half her real age (based on the ages of her kids and the fact that she’s a doctor, and that takes some time to complete!)

I’m totally owning my 29 & Fine fitness age and throwing it out there for another non-scale victory. Maybe one of these days I’ll be more inclined to drop my extra weight (technically based on my BMI I’m considered overweight) but for now, I don’t think it’s necessary.

I feel good about me.

And that’s pretty fucking awesome.

Happy weekend friends!

Training Tuesday

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This link-up is just a way to talk about training [in any way, for anything] to help hold ourselves accountable and possibly brag a bit. I mean, you ran 1 mile without stopping – you totally deserve a chance to brag about it! That shit is hard. You did 10 push-ups in a row, HOLLLEERRR.

And even if you’re not training for anything, you’re just putting yourself out there to be healthier, to get slimmer, to whatever you can share it on Training Tuesday. Let’s say you were sitting at home and instead of eating a carton of Oreos you instead ate 20 baby carrots and just imagined they were chocolate-y crèmey goodness [hypothetical situation, of course] – share it here!

Abbey & I don’t discriminate – we congratulate.

Grab the button up above & link-up down below to let us know what’s going on for your Training Tuesday (or any day really, linking up throughout the week is good too!)

My Training

3/12 – It was Spring Break on campus, so I took the day off to enjoy with Lillie (we did come into work for a bit to visit); I thought I might work out during her afternoon nap but I chose to clean instead. Sometimes I’d rather be clean than fit. Truth.
3/13 – Lunch with Jenna – where I made awesome healthy food choices but no working out.
3/14 – I don’t remember why I didn’t work out, but I didn’t. So, I had 3 rest days.
3/15 – My mind was not feeling any type of workout but because I knew I wasn’t going to do anything this weekend (not because I was too busy, just because I didn’t want too. Yes, sometimes I’m lazy.) so I forced myself to head to the gym. I did some hill training for 2 miles on the dreadmill.
3/16 – 3/17 – I drank too much (no kid, yay! #saidwithloveipromise) All my awesome hard work of eating well throughout the week, totally gone with a 6 pack of Bud Light. I did have a great time bowling & catching up with friends though, so it wasn’t a total loss.
3/18 – 2.25 miles on the dreadmill.

I’m keeping this week “light” because Saturday is the Bearathon. I woke up yesterday morning incredibly nervous. Like more nervous than I was with my first half. I want to think it’s because this is so close to home (only 30 minute drive) and I’m familiar with the turf, but in reality – I think I’m so nervous because I’ve been working towards this half-marathon since last year when I competed in the 5k portion of this race. Which means, not only have I been officially running for a year but I’ve also been enjoying it. I have a lot more to say on this topic, in fact, typing out this little bit is a little emotional for me already, so more on this in a future post.

Wow. Did I just get emotional about running? #whoami

In other topics, I talked yesterday about my relationship with food. Basically, it’s delicious & I have no self-control. Oops. But I’ve been making an honest effort, not just one where I pretend to do good 40% of the time & whine about nothing working, these past three weeks using My Fitness Pal (tracking everything I eat) and eating better per my goals for Abbey’s Forever Fitness Challenge.

After the Bearathon, I don’t really have anything on my race schedule. So, if you’re nearby and want a running buddy (pick me! pick me!), or you’re faraway and want/need an online supporter – let me know. #motivationstation

I love to cheer people on. It’s like my crack.

Haha, I said crack.

Eff You, Karma.

I’ve never had a great relationship with food. Or rather, I’ve never had a healthy relationship with food. I can recall having taco eating contests with my brother growing up and thinking that was perfectly sane. I remember eating entire cans of chili & packages of crackers while reading John Grisham novels in my bed. I remember being thrilled when I realized I could go out to eat for lunch and no one could tell me what I could or couldn’t have.

You see, I didn’t grow up learning about healthy food. I mean, sure, I took Home Economics and I learned about the Food Pyramid (which is no longer used, right?) I listened to the concepts, I understood that vegetables and fruits were healthy but no one ever taught me to apply that to my own life and what consequences there were if I didn’t.

As a teenager, I was naturally thin. At 5’10, 120 lbs and fairly active – it didn’t matter how many calories I consumed because those bitches were gone by nightfall. I didn’t feel like eating healthy applied to me because that was just for people with a problem.

I wasn’t one of those people.

I can clearly remember having a conversation when I was around 15 with my sister. We were talking about someone who was “fat” and I remember saying, “If I ever got that big, I’d just lose the weight. It can’t be that hard.”

You know why I remember that so clearly?

Because karma is a fucking bitch.

And because now, I’m that “big” girl and it is hard. I’m having to teach myself to make better choices and when I’ve always reached for an extra helping, or another Snickers bar – that’s really difficult. What seems to make it even harder this time around is the fact that I’m happy with my health. I’ve been running for over a year and I can clearly see marked improvements in my spirit, in my daily tasks and in how I feel every morning when I wake up.

At this point in my life I’d say 300/365 days a year when I look in the mirror, I nod my head and say, “Yep, you look good.”  The problem is that I compare that point with previous points in my life (namely right after having Lillie) and I think, wow, I’ve come a really long way and I should be proud of that.

So, I reward myself with an extra cookie. Or some ice cream. Or a giant tub of Crisco. You know, whatever helps slide that shitty food down my gullet.

It’s been a shitty cycle these past few months as I made a goal to lose 30 lbs this year. I did great in January by losing 6 lbs, but guess who gained it back in February as a “reward” for doing good? Yeah, this girl. I’ve had to really focus on what I’m doing wrong and be honest with myself. And since, I love being honest with you guys too – here goes.

I’m not eating better because I’m lazy.

There. It’s out. And it’s true.

I read enough, I know enough, I have plenty of friends who are well-versed in eating well – I just don’t want to do it. It’s going to take more time, it’s going to be painful (in the learning new things way) and there’s that possibility that I’m going to fail.

It’s really scary shit you guys. I don’t like saying I’m going to do something and then not do it. Especially when it’s my fault if I don’t. I’m having to make big changes in my life in order to succeed, it almost feels more taxing than when I first started exercising. Because exercise is an hour out of my day (occasionally more when I’m putting in more miles), but eating better, well, that’s all of my day.

Changing your life, while it may be for the better, is just generally freaky as hell. And that’s what I’m trying to do. Changing my life in the way I view food so that I feel better about myself and so that I can be a good example to my daughter. I wasn’t shown a healthy life growing up, I was taught that exercise was a form of punishment almost.

You’re 10 minutes late to PE young lady. Drop and give me 20.

I want to give my daughter more than that, and I really want to give myself more than that. And in order to do so, I have to shit or get off the pot.

Basically, stop complaining and do something.

So, here’s what I’m doing:

I joined My Fitness Pal. (Friend me here!) Basically it’s a calorie counter, where you put in your goals and it sets you up a profile. Based on your information it tells you a daily goal and when you could succeed. It’s really simple to figure out, but the best part – totally free. I also really enjoy it because unlike Weight Watchers (which I still think is an amazing program!) this helps give me a better idea of calories/sugar/fiber/carbs that are actually IN my food as opposed to some formula that calculates points. I’ve been logging my food for nearly 3 weeks now (as well as exercise) and after the first week, I could definitely tell why I didn’t lose any weight even though I was training like crazy with my running. I was eating all my calories back. Oops.  I’ve lost 4 lbs. While it’s no Biggest Loser weight loss record, I feel good about it and I feel as if I’m learning.

I’m also participating in Abbey’s Forever Fitness Challenge she put together. You can find all the details here. But it’s a 10 week challenge based on your own personal goals. If you want to run a 10 minute mile or give up smoking or eat more vegetables, it doesn’t matter as long as it matters to you. At the end of it, there will be some sort of prize but I think (hopefully) what we’ll find at the end of it is a really huge sense of accomplishment. When she initially brought it up my mind immediately went to exercising, and after a week of thinking on it – I had no new goals that I really wanted to pursue. I’m not interested (at this time) in going the full marathon distance (26.2 miles) and I’m already actively working on my speed per my own resolutions. Then, one evening as I was downing a box of Velveeta Shells and Cheese (my gawd, that stuff is glorious) I realized that my problem isn’t of the ‘making time to exercise’ nature. It’s of the ‘making time to eat better’ nature.

So, my goals are to cook at least 3 healthy meals a week and by doing so, losing 10 lbs. Last week, I made baked tilapia, cauliflower pizza (seriously making it again this week, it was amazeballs) and artichoke penne with baked chicken. It was a challenge. I had to mentally prep myself on what I was making for dinner that night so I didn’t cave and stop at Bush’s Chicken on the way home. But I did it, and I really enjoyed everything I made. Even the husband didn’t mind it too much. The kid doesn’t count because if I cover it in ketchup she’s game for anything.

And there’s me shitting & getting off the pot.

Does anyone else have a horrible relationship with food? Am I the only one whose heart beats faster when she opens a new box of Oreos? Did I just admit that out loud?

Sweet baby Jesus. Someone help me.

Resolutions 2013: Month 1

I’ve decided I’m going to update throughout the year in regards to my 2013 Resolutions. I think know it will hold me more accountable if I actively remind myself of my goals for the year. You know how you read or hear people say to write down your goals and it helps you achieve them? Yeah, I’m going for that. So, we’ll see.

I do have to be honest with you though, I’m also using this as a platform to brag a little because I’m doing pretty damn awesome at everything so far. Not giving up in a week like I normally do when it comes to resolutions really does do wonders.

Onward!

Health

• Run faster. Goal: 12 min/mile pace or better and PR in the 5k.
  • Dudes. Dudes. I ran today. And guess what? Yeah, you’re reading that right. I’m totally on pace [get it, pace. ha.] with meeting this goal! I have a 5k next Saturday [which is a mile longer than this run] but I am excited to really push myself and see where I’m at. Especially after being slightly disappointed in my last 5k time. Just a reference, I tend to run 13 minute miles. A whole minute faster for 2 miles in a row? Yeah, #beastmode bitches.
• Lose weight. Goal: 30 lbs.
  • I’ve talked about how I am happy with my weight at 190 lbs. And I am. Which makes me wanting to really lose weight hard. I really like the way I look now and I love the way I feel. So, this resolution is mostly tied to the above one – the less I weigh, the less I have to lug across a finish line. I want to be a faster runner. And with that said, I’m officially down 6 lbs.

Financial

• Save money. Goal: $$ mo’ money.
  • We started a Dave Ramsey class with some friends of ours [who’ve done it before]. I also downloaded an app called Mint [mint.com]. Basically, you put in all your information and it categorizes your purchases for you and helps you set up a budget. Dudes, we spend more money on fuel than we do on our mortgage. [Necessary since we commute, but still, whaaaa?] It really helped me put things into perspective on how much we were spending. Example: We rent movies from Redbox, they’re like a $1.20. No big deal. Unless you forget to bring them back. Yeah, dropping a $100 on that is not happening again. Seriously, can’t recommend that app more.

Personal

• Become closer to God. Goal: ♥.
  • When Alfred and I first started discussing having a family, we talked about a lot of things. One of those was how we wanted to raise our child, and we wanted to do so with Faith. Well, we now have Lillie and she’s getting older, the time to do that is now. I want to be prepared for questions she’s bound to have and I want her to feel loved in our church home. I’ve gone more in the past couple months than I have in the past few years. We have a new preacher [Hi Pat!] who has definitely sparked the congregation and I feel on par with this. I even started going to a Bible Study class, where I – get this – actually contributed. #whoami
• Read more. Goal: #13booksin13.
  • I started reading The Mortal Instruments Series. It’s hard to find time to read when I’m doing one of these three things: Taking care of my 2 year old, Taking care of my 29 year old, and taking care of my 27 year old self. But I’ve started cutting the television off [it’s quite the time succubus] and that has helped immensely. I’ve finished the first book and have started the second.

One month in and I’m feeling good about life. And you know who else should be feeling good about life?

Breenah at By Breenah. She has started to run [you know how I love it when people run!] She even ran in 36 degrees today, friends. If you have a chance, go check her out and/or give her a thumbs up tweet @bybreenah ! #motivationstation in full effect and no shame.

Katie from State of Change. [She’s fantastic, seriously, we have this textual relationship that’s so hot and steamy. Literally. We kinda talked about poop today.] She recently got herself a jogging stroller [can anyone say milf?] and is going to become a personal trainer. Amazeballs. ‘Nuff said.

Kate from Begin Anyway. Dudes, she totally ran 3 miles in under 11 minute pace. and on a treadmill. I find I run faster outside, so major props to her. You’re a rockstar.

If you’re super proud of yourself for something, but kind of hate bragging about it – just tell me. I have no problem doing it for you. As I’ve said before, I like cheering for people. Every one deserves a slow clap in their life, at least once, and I can totally do that for you.

Spandexalicious

You’ve done it. You’ve made the decision to be healthier, to be happier, to be a fucking supermodel. But that’s the easy part. The hard part?

Learning to be okay in spandex.

Or learning to be okay around other people in spandex while you’re flooding sweat from every cellulite dimple you’ve so lovingly earned over the past 27 years.

HOLY SHIT DID SOMEONE JUST SAY SPANDEX?!

When I first started going to the gym [I work at a University where I am constantly surrounded by 20 year old size zeros who look amazing and never drop an ounce of sweat] I was really self-conscious. Like I had mentioned before, when I first started this journey I wore a pair of cotton capris that I bought at Wal-Mart and any old cotton shirt I could find that didn’t cling to any spare muffins I was carrying around. There’s nothing wrong with cotton, but it’s really not conducive to keeping sweat away from you. It gets all wet, and clingy then starts yellowing, and well, I sweat like a man. Being self-conscious those first few months, I always made sure that the majority of my butt was covered. I just felt it was far too wide to fit into anything form fitting and be flattering. I really ended up making myself more miserable the first few months at the gym than I should have. Why?

Because I was more concerned with what other people would think of me than what I should have been concerned about.

Getting my sweat on.

The truth is you don’t have to wear tight fitting clothes to the gym to get your sweat on, but it’s one of the perks of feeling like a ‘true workout warrior’[at least for me] when you can slide on a pair of skin-tight capris and think “Damn, now that’s an ass I can bounce a quarter off of.”

And I do. I bounce quarters off of it. Okay, fine, I don’t, but not because I haven’t tried, it’s just really hard throwing quarters at your own ass. And it never fails someone sees you try, and explaining that?  Awk.ward.

You can wear whatever you want to the gym and as long as you are consistent with your efforts, you will see results. 90% of the time I wear capris because of chub rub. The  other 10% I’ll wear shorts, but only on days I know I won’t be running. Like if I’m doing weights. Or in an Oreo eating contest. [What? It could happen.]

You see that outfit? I obviously have gotten past my fear of looking like an idiot in the gym.

If at 200 lbs I can get past my fear of jiggling in front of others, I have no doubt you can too. So, here’s me – helping you – work on that. Just go with me on this.

Make a list of everything you love physically about yourself. See what tops that list. Chances are it’s going to be something like your smile or your eyes [you do have really lovely eyes, by the way]. And then when you’re done, make a list of things you want to put on that list. Did you putt perkier butt? Or sexy legs? Or pointy elbows? [What? I don’t know. This is your list.] and then…

Go look at yourself in a mirror and repeat this, “I am a bad ass. Tamara says so. She is awesome. God, she’s so awesome. I wish she was here right now. Sigh. Wait, where was I? I am a bad ass not a fat ass. BAD ASS. I can do this. This is my journey, not anyone else’s and if they have an issue, they can eat my sweaty cotton t-shirt. I will get <insert pointy elbows here>, dammit!”

Once you’re done pumping yourself up in the mirror [you, sexy beast, you] I want you to beeline it to the gym. When you get there, find a spot that’s really great for people-watching [like on the janky looking bicycle in the back corner.] And for the next 15 minutes I want you to count the number of people who you see actually turn around and watch you. Like not peek up for a second when you walk by them, but like turn and watch you.

What’s your number? Is it closer to zero than closer to a 100 [which is what it felt like for me] You know why? It’s because no one cares. No one cares that you have a little extra junk in the trunk in those pants, they are all far too worried about their own problems than to care about yours. That may sound a little harsh, but it’s true.

The only person who can make the change that you want is YOU. Stop making excuses and just push that voice of insecurity down. Push it down as many times as you have too and eventually, it will stop getting up.

And when it does, you’ll pull on your spandex capris, you’ll turn and look at that bounce-tastic ass in the mirror and you’ll say, “Damn, Tam was right. I am a bad ass. Now where the fuck is my quarter?”

Weight Hate: Chub Rub

After I wrote my first #weighthate post, I was kind of lost on how to continue. I felt like I really put it all out there and wasn’t sure how to come back from that. I mean, according to you people I was all inspiring and shit.

That’s just not natural. I’m the girl who falls up the stairs. I’m the drunkard who buys a 6 pack of wine because it’s 10% cheaper that way. I’m the mom who hides in the pantry to eat a fun size Twix bar so she doesn’t have to share with her 2 year old. [Kids know things, so I don’t get away with it very often.] I’m a girl who curses like a gawdamn sailor and loves every minute of it. I don’t feel inspiring. But I can be truthful.

But should I start with my relationship with food. [Food gives, I take happily] Or do I talk about gaining a shit-ton of weight when you’re pregnant? [It’s not as fun as it sounds.] Like I said in the first post, I have a lot to share - I’m just having a hard time figuring out how to do that in a way that won’t cause you to go - “Fuck, shut up already” or assume I’m looking for sympathy. Because I’m not. Everything I’ve gone through has allowed me to get to this point. The point of “Dudes, I gots this.” And I’m not ashamed of that.

Which leads me to tell you about something else I “gots”.

Chub. Rub.

Do you not know what this is? Well, let me enlighten you, my dear friends.

It’s when your fat rubs together and you get all rashy. Sexy, am I right?

I’ve heard people talk about it being the reason they don’t go workout and I’m here to say, that’s a load of shit. Oh, Tam, you’re so insensitive! But I’m not, because in addition to what you read above, I’m also the girl who could host a Bill Nye science experiment on friction. These thighs weren’t made for running. Or at least that’s what I thought a year ago.

Sometime after my dreadful 5k last year in January when I was walking/running on the track above the gym I decided that I needed to wear shorts. The cotton Wal-Mart capris were just hot. And filled with sweat. So, one day, I pulled out a pair of shorts to wear while I ran.

It did not go well.

I stopped after a few rounds because the ol’ thighs were acting like teenagers making out behind the bleachers – all over each other. I was embarrassed,this had never happened before. I felt discouraged. I mean, why bother working out if I can’t even wear shorts. This is Texas. We have two seasons – hot & hotter.

I’ve worn Capri's to work out in since then [although, not the cotton Wal-mart ones. I invested in a few pairs of nice ‘real workout’ ones]. And it’s not bothered me one bit. Instead of using chub rub as an excuse to not work-out, I punched it in it’s chubby face and found a way around it. Capri pants = perfect solution. [Also, there’s this thing called body glide. It’s like lube for your teenage love making thighs]

But then, not everything can be perfect forever.

Because this past Sunday came, you know, the one where I ran in the rain for 13 miles? You see, I’ve never ran in the rain. In the wind, sure. In the cold, absolutely. In the rain, fuck that. So, I wasn’t prepared for the aftermath.

The first thing I did when we got back to my aunt’s house was hop into the shower. I was so looking forward to it’s gloriousness. That is until water ran down my backside and I started jumping around like a cat with a firecracker attached to her tail. It had hit me. And it had hit me hard.

I didn’t just have chub rub. I had one helluva chapped ass.

The 3 hour ride home, not nearly as comfortable as it should have been. You know how I pulled out Desitin in my vlüg yesterday? Yeah, uh, that wasn’t just for my small child. That was for my large ass.

And you know what, it totally helped.

So, stop making excuses. Stop blaming everything else for why you’re not ‘getting out there’.

Because if I can chap my ass in the name of running, and still love it, surely you can too. 

Weight Hate

I have written & edited this post numerous times over the past couple of years but could never bring myself to publish it. Why? Because I was ashamed. I was embarrassed. I was unhappy with myself in a weigh way that made me feel alone. I covered it up with laughter, or poking fun of myself, or making every attempt to ignore what not only the scale was telling me, but what my health was telling me – I was getting worse. And then last year, something changed in me and I started running. I know it’s cliché, but it changed me. Physically. Emotionally. Spiritually. There’s so much I feel that I want to share, but dudes, you know how much I talk – we’ll be here all day. Ain’t nobody got time for that. So, I don’t know how this #weighthate series of posts will play out but I’m going to be as open & honest as I can with each one.

The other day I gave you my 2013 resolutions where I mentioned what I weigh. As I typed it out, then backspaced over it, I realized that I may be 190 lbs but ultimately, my weight does not define me – so I slowly, proudly typed it back out so I could talk about how I came to that realization.

This time last year [January 2012], I was absolutely unhappy with not only the way I looked, but the way I felt. I was slow, sluggish; hell, I could barely go up a flight of stairs without needing a respirator. I weighed 205 lbs.

It had been over a year since Lillie and I could no longer justify ‘baby weight’ in my head as the reason why I was not doing something about feeling so miserable all the time. It wasn’t only affecting me. It was affecting my marriage. Alfred could tell I wasn’t happy, but when I wouldn’t do anything for myself, what could he do? He was supportive when he needed to be, but I could tell he was over my constant complaining about losing weight. I mean, shit or get off the pot, am I right? #favoritesaying

So, with the new year and high hopes I went ahead and signed up for a local 5k I’ve done for the past few years. (I’m actually running it again in a few weeks!) I grossly overestimated my ability to run and it was miserable. I ran that race with a time [50 minutes] that was worse than when I ran it 2 months after giving birth to Lillie [around 40 minutes]. I was embarrassed by it (I actually didn’t even post my time on the post!), so that next week I went to the gym and ran just to see if I was really as bad as I was that race morning. I ran for 30 minutes straight. It was slow, and in circles on the track above the fitness room where no one goes because I was embarrassed to try and run on a treadmill in front of people, but I did it and I didn’t die. Which meant, I could do it again.

I decided to sign up for another 5k in March as motivation to get healthier and to lose weight. I had no training plan & no real clue on how to be a runner. All I had were a pair of shitty shoes, a couple pair of cotton capri pants that I bought at Wal-Mart on sale and this blog where I had mentioned I’d be running. You all helped hold me accountable and a few days a week I attempted to “train”. I would run & walk on that track during my lunch break. When the race came, I forced My Emilie and my friend, Lauren to do it with me. I ran it in 41 minutes and I felt great about it. To say I was proud – total understatement. After seeing such an decrease in my time, I got excited. I wanted to do more, I wanted to see what else I was capable of. I had caught the running bug. I started reading a lot of things about running, registering for races and joining forums. I felt motivated and I slowly started caring less about what I thought other people might think about me running [in public].

I braved the gym with the actual treadmills. I work at a University so our campus gym is filled with 20 something sorority girls & frat boys all the time but I didn’t care because I was competing with myself. My size 15 ass jiggled like a cup of Jell-O on a roller coaster but when I’d look around to see who noticed, I realized no one gave a shit. I’m sure people may have made a snide comment or two that I didn’t hear, but ultimately every one else was so wrapped up in themselves. Why would they care that 190 lb girl of pure awesomeness was running at a 15 minute pace right next to them?

I started getting braver and more adventurous with my fitness regime and less concerned with what the scale said. I focused on how I was feeling. I could literally breathe again. I was playing with Lillie more, I felt like a wife again, and I was fitting into clothes I hadn’t seen since before my pregnancy. I was learning to love what my body was capable of doing. My weight hit 190 around May and I decided I wanted to up my game. I stopped running for a month when I ordered Insanity and in two weeks I dropped 7 inches. People thought I had lost like 20 lbs. I hadn’t, but I felt like I had lost 20 lbs.

I quit Insanity after a month (it’s a 60 day program) to focus on a 5k I had signed up for, then for a 10k and eventually a half-marathon. During the latter part of the year, I stayed consistent with my weight. 190 lbs. 193 lbs. 191 lbs. My weight held me up during every single one of my runs. From 1 mile to 13.1 miles, I had stopped allowing it to hold me back.

You guys, I felt free. I felt healthy. I was learning to be happy and it was showing. Because of running, my weight stopped defining who I was as a person. I was enjoying life again.

And I am no longer ashamed of what the scale says. There are days when I question it. There are days when I catch myself comparing my body to others. Negativity finds me daily. Every day is a challenge to think positive, to remember I am capable. I can’t blame my problems on others. If I want to see change, I have to be the change.

I have to want to be the change.

And I do. I want that. So, I’ve been going for it. It’s amazing at how something as simple & mind-numbing as putting one foot in front of the other has helped me grow. Which is exactly why I get so excited when people express an interest in running. It changed me. It helped me. It continues to do so on a daily basis and I am beyond grateful.