How he loves me.

How he loves me.

I was thrilled to be having a girl for my first, and potentially only child, I had hoped for a girl, I had no idea what I would DO if I had a boy. Everything I wanted in a child screamed traditional Girl characteristics.
I convinced my husband to have a second child when our daughter was about 10 months old, I knew someone was missing from our family, and I knew that once I was out of the baby stage I wouldn’t want to go back. With our daughter we booked a 3D ultrasound when the regular ones didn’t show the sex, and were relieved when she was in fact a she. But the second time around neither of us cared and we never asked. Baby would be a surprise, something I definitely recommend. When he was born a He it didn’t phase us, we figured kids couldn’t be that different just because of their sex, and maybe in some cases that is true but in our case our boy is all boy, and our boy and girl are very different. He is rough, he is dangerous, he runs away first chance he gets and laughs about it when I run after him, he is messy, for some unknown reason everything about him smells stronger or worse than my girl baby’s did. When you put him near dirt he grabs handfuls of it and immediately puts it in his hair.
The thing I didn’t know about boys is how much harder they love you. My daughter loves me, but from 6 months on she couldn’t wait to get away from me, wanted me when she needed me but only wants what she wants. I remember trying to snuggle her as a 9 month old and her pushing me away, “go away mom, I’ll have none of this!”
My son has those moments too, but not even close to the same intensity or frequency. He wraps his arms around my legs and hugs them while I make dinner, he throws himself into my arms recklessly, knowing I will catch him, he stares at me with a happy grin and touches my hair and face, just to be touching me. When I lie him on my chest (even now at 22) months, he drools, because he is so content to just Be on me, this comforting place he once called home that is my body. I should have guessed he was a boy with the way he thrashed around in utero, pushed out with his feet, he was strong even then. As an infant I remember looking at him and saying to my husband, “I know she loves me most of the time, but this baby REALLY loves me.” And I love him, and know that how I treat him and how I behave has a huge impact on how he will see women, on the type of women he will date and someday marry, just as is affects the woman my daughter will be. That is huge motivation to work towards being better every day, for myself and for them. I want my children to have a mother who is a healthy role model in all aspects of life.

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Beginning to Run.

This is NOT what running is like for me today, over a year later, this is what it was like in the very beginning, I was 215 lbs and very out of shape. Now, I can run 10 k a day if I want to and feel no discomfort, it IS possible.

I keep not writing this out, I’m worried I won’t get it right, I’m worried that I can’t express it the way I want, so even though I’ve partially written it in my mind so many times I have never tried to type it out, here goes.

I don’t want to go, it’s getting cold out and it’s warm inside. The couch is so comfortable. I had a long day, I barely sat down as it was, surely that is enough? No, if it was enough you wouldn’t be here. 215. You cannot stay at 215, you have to go, you have to try. Also, you already made plans with people to meet here, they will be here any minute. Get up.

We walk, we chat, we laugh, we talk about our days, our kids, our lives. This is Fun. I’m glad I came… It’s time to stop walking and start running, we COULD walk the whole thing but we know we will regret it. I set my pedometer, I select my music and turn it up and start, I know that once I start I have to keep going, I only get one chunk of it and once I stop I cannot start again.

It hurts. Everything Hurts. My feet go numb, I can barely breath, my shins, oh God my shins. I have to keep my music up because I cannot stand the sound of my own breathing, it’s so heavy and I sound like I’m dying. My feet hit the ground HARD, heel first, the way everyone tells me you are not supposed to do it. I don’t have the control not to, it takes everything in me just to keep moving. I run until my chest hurts, until I can no longer breathe, or until the pain in my shins gets so bad that it gives me no choice but to stop. When I stop running I keep walking, and it feels exactly like stepping off a roller coaster. I am soaked. I still can’t breathe, I hurt.

We walk back and I can barely make it up the stairs, the stairs to get to the second floor are extra excruciating. I have had three abdominal surgeries, I have a high pain tolerance, I get into the bathtub, kneel in the coldest water I can get and cry. I am sure they are stress fractured, the pain is so bad that I have to breathe through it like labor. I cry out in pain several times getting back up and bathing, and hope that my husband didn’t hear me. I don’t want anyone to know because I don’t want anyone to stop me. I Need this. I need to take my body back and I don’t know any other way, I barely know this way.

I take pain killers, I rest, I wait a few days until I am no longer hurting and do it all over.

Every time, it gets easier.

Starting is the hard part.

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Nothing Special

Nothing Special

I was in a discussion recently that got a little heated, it was about running apps. I don’t like them personally, and prefer to go with the way I’m feeling as opposed to “walk now, run now.” I was told that most people don’t have my motivation, but the truth is I am nothing special or different when it comes to that. You don’t GET as big as I was if you are super motivated. I just made a commitment and stuck with it, at first it was really, really hard to keep it. Starting was the hard part. Starting IS the hard part. Once you are in it and you realize how good it makes you feel it makes you want it. I wasn’t motivated to run, running motivated me.

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I hurt myself in power yoga yesterday, and I have no idea how I did it. It feels much better today, but it made me think about how much trust you are putting in someone by letting them tell you how to work out your body. I could have taken a shortcut and did a weekend course to get the job I want, but I really want the knowledge to really help people and feel confident that I am not going to harm them. The class I was in was very “do it this way” instead of “do it how it feels right” and that made a huge difference in the feel of the class and how I felt afterwards. Which was ouch. HAH.

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The thing about running…

The thing about running, at least for me that has been the most surprising is the mental aspect. It’s like, when your body is working so hard and your mind starts to wander you loose control of where your thoughts are drifting to, and sometimes it drifts to places you would rather it not go. I have cried while running, sometimes on days where nothing was bothering me before my run. I’ve figured out a lot of things in the hours i’ve spent.

Tonight (I don’t even know how it came to mind) I started thinking about how I used to starve myself, not because there was a lack of food but because I didn’t want to leave my bedroom because of the hostile environment that I called home. And then later on because I never was home, and it was easier to just not eat. When I turned 18 I put plans in motion to move out, I got a job at a call centre that I would be able to pay all the bills with, my boyfriend was willing to move out with me, and I found an apartment. The boyfriend and the apartment didn’t work out, but working full time on top of being in high school had the benefit of me leaving home at 8 am and not getting off work until 11:15, just in time to catch the last bus, where I would walk for 45 ish min along a dark highway, alone was preferable because when I saw someone I was terrified of who I could be running into and if they could/would harm me. On days like that I would usually eat lunch in the school cafeteria, and then sometimes on my break at work. In both situations, when I would get up the nerve to leave my room or when I would have a chance to eat in a break from school and work I would eat FAST, and I would eat a LOT, and the last things on my mind where if it was healthy or the calorie content. Looking back I can see that after I moved out I continued this behaviour, always overeating and did that for a very long time. No wonder I gained continually from the time I was 19 on. This realization is very sad for me, but really does help explain why I always felt the need to stuff myself whenever I had a meal. 

Ah, I remember the trigger: I passed by a teenage girl with faded dyed blue hair, like I used to have, and I smiled at her. Ah, I remember the trigger: I passed by a teenage girl with faded dyed blue hair, like I used to have, and I smiled at her. 

I was kept segregated a lot in my teens, my Dad didn’t want me “getting into trouble with boys” so I wasn’t allowed to go many places or talk on the phone to many people. To make up for this (I suppose) he was always bringing home treats for us, food became something to do not something to nourish your body, it was my entertainment. Breaking that habit, that thought process has been really difficult, and I’ve mentioned before how I had to mourn the loss of being able to eat like that. I guess in a way it was like saying goodbye to a friend. 

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Terrible blogger

So much for my wonderful intentions to keep this up, I have been slacking horribly, even not writing about stuff that I was anxious TO write about. I have my own computer now, so maybe that will help my ambition to sit and write, not being on my phone or a wireless keybord is MUCH easier. As of yesterday I am down to 152 lbs, 77lbs lost. That number still seems insane and made up to me, even more so as it gets bigger and I get smaller, something that is hard to wrap my head around. I still feel the same as I did at about 195 and I have a hard time thinking of myself as smaller even though clothes are too big and measurements are less. It’s so hard to let go of being bigger. 

I start college next month, for the third time in my life. Third time is the charm? I feel this time will be different, the last two courses I took things that I knew I could do and I just wanted a job, this I feel so passionate about. I want to help people do what I have done, I want to show them what they are capable of, how good they can feel. I feel terribly guilty that I am giving up being a full time stay at home mom, and hope this is the right thing for all of us and not just for me. I feel like I have a rough road ahead of me. I am terrified of becoming overwhelmed and falling behind. One day at a time. 

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I had an amazing conversation with my new RMT today, it was my first time meeting her and the conversation was just as rejuvenating as the massage. We talked about energy and how people attract what they put out, treating children with respect so that they respect others, ect. It was a blissful hour that I cannot wait to repeat. One of the things that I mentioned and we talked about was how lately I have noticed that the more I put “out there” the more I get back, that people hold back in the name of privacy, but to me all that does is segregate people and give others less to relate to, making it harder to get to know each other. 

Now, I respect privacy, and see how it’ necessary. When I have a conversation with someone I (sometimes foolishly) assume that conversation is between us, and I respect their privacy by not sharing details that are not mine to share. 

But lately when it comes to myself and a conversation I have little that I care to hold back, if someone is curious about something I don’t see why not share it. Then why didn’t I before? Why have I held back for so many years and stopped so many people from getting to know me?
Answer: Shame. 
Sad as it is for a long time I didn’t really care for the person I thought I was and assumed that others knowing her would expose it. It has prevented me from relationships with people that I have been really missing out on. I’m not saying that I Was a terrible person before, but I thought I was, and that’s what matters. The way you feel about yourself and see yourself affects every aspect of your life. It held me back from so much! And for a long time it was easier to hide myself then to start pulling it all apart and dealing with the roots to these feelings, I used to think that putting too much of myself out there cheapened my life somehow, now it’s the complete opposite- it’s done nothing but enrich it. 

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My Body gallery

This has really helped me see what other people my size and weight look like, and has helped me choose a goal weight also. 🙂

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Having a hard time letting go

A few years before I got pregnant with my daughter I had a jump in my weight, a few jeans sizes and about 15-20 lbs. I’m back to that weight now, and it’s like I can’t accept it. I Feel bigger now than I did at 180 ish before having kids. I don’t know if it’s because I carry it differently, or it’s just the difference the impact of having kids has left on my body, but the smaller I get the more critical I am, the more flaws I see. I was out at a playcenter last week wearing the jeans that I JUST fit back into, and my friend tells me that she is wearing the same size jeans left me in shock and I’m pretty sure I stuttered, She is not a big girl, how can we be in the same size? Are mine just that much bigger, brand, fit ect? I can’t be an average size, not yet, I haven’t worked hard enough, I don’t look small enough.. In my minds eye I look the same or similar as I did well over 200lbs. I know this can’t be true, but I don’t feel any different. When a pair of jeans fits that didn’t before my first thought is that I was somehow wearing them wrong before. On top of that, I had really embraced being a Fat girl, and leaving that classification of  myself is terrifying. It’s like before I was small in size for a big girl, and now I’m big for a small girl. There is so much more to this than the size of my body and jeans. Also, loosing the security blanket of not being widely accepted as desirable, is scary. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying being big isn’t attractive, to me, and many- but as far as society goes it’s not mainstream. For years I haven’t really had to worry about if someone thought I was hitting on them. I haven’t had to worry about being hit on while out, or unwanted touch. It’s all new territory. 

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How I measure this year.

A year ago I had a cardiologist appointment, I stepped on the scale and it told me I was 227 lbs. It was a wakeup call. 
A year ago I was awake at this time trying to figure it all out, working the numbers, I had 80 lbs to loose before I would even hit a weight that I would be really happy with. 80!? How was I going to manage that? I remember BEING 80lbs, how did I let it get this bad? Where do I start? Healthy weight loss is between 1-2 lbs per week. PER WEEK?! I have to be fat for HOW LONG? If I only loose 1lb per week I’ll be down 52 lbs after an entire YEAR. I can’t do this. There must be another way… I’m just going to have to learn to love myself like this, it can’t be that unhealthy, I’m not THAT out of shape.. Am I? *Thinks back to the yoga class I took in Jan and how hard it was to try to keep up. and how my weight restricted my movements* Ya, it’s bad. I need to start something, tonight.

Google found me the Bodyrock website, and I got down on the floor and made a very, very poor attempt at it. But her words told me “something is better than NOTHING!” and that gave me hope. 

At 227lbs and 5’2″ I had a BMI of 40.5, obesity is anything over 30. Yes, the BMI chart has it’s flaws, but I was no athlete and it was extra fat making me heavy not muscle. 

I started walking with a wonderful group of friends, who have helped me in so many ways and rewarded me by taking how they have inspired Me and handing it back saying how I have inspired them. The beginning was hard, really hard. I had to mourn the lifestyle I was living, the freedom of not exercising, and eating whatever I wanted whenever I wanted. The idea that this wasn’t a diet, this was a new lifestyle for me and that lifestyle included working out almost ever day was terrifying. I loved food too much, I was too tired, How would I find the time? Was there a point if I could just gain it all back? 

The past year has been one of huge changes, the thing about working on myself is it has caused a domino effect that has led me to working on everything in my life, health, self control,  people, love, fear, faith. It’s all connected. It shook everything up and made me certain of nothing and unashamed to admit it. 

I had to admit I had no idea how to feed my body for health, but along with that were so many things I also wasn’t feeding. It’s been a journey, and running has played a huge part in it all. but I will save that for my “runniversary”, which is in June. 

365 days
65 lbs
34 inches total
9 jean sizes
9 inches off just my waist 
hundreds of moments, painful, beautiful, inspiring. 

Pushing me forward, and pulling people along with me. It’s been awesome.

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