Over the past eight years I randomly decide that I want to "get in shape". Over the past eight years I consistently get in worse shape.
It's all Basic Training's fault. Yes, I'm great at shifting the blame! When I joined the military I was pretty much set on a profile for my weight, I had to weigh less than 159 lb (for my height of 5'8"). Growing up as a child, I always felt HUGE. Largely (te he he) because I was the tallest girl in my class for awhile. Minersville boys seem to be little shorties, even to this day. Perhaps its something in the water that stunts their growth? I got teased a lot in elementary school, mercilessly it felt like. This fed into my reading habit, life was so much better on the pages of my book that it ever was "in real life".
((Ok, so as I read this, I realize that I can't entirely blame the military, but it is where I was truly introduced to the lifestyle of "you must diet! you are too fat!"))
Back to Basic Training, also known as the most horrifying 6 weeks of my life. I've had worse days, but those weeks live on in my psyche in infamy. Imagine if you will, my drill instructor. Now this guy is a spitting image of (hold on while I IMDB him, because I can't for the life of me remember his name) ... Ed Harris, although with slightly more hair. Yes, he was hot. And intense. And I really really didn't want to get his attention, ever. I wanted to be the invisible little mouse hiding in the back of the room. Somehow I could not manage this, as everything I did seemed to draw his attention. My nickname was "Goofy". Mostly (I'm assuming) because I can not walk in a straight line, let alone march in a straight one on the right foot. And I have this annoying habit of laughing. A lot. I laugh when I'm happy, when I'm sad, when I'm stressed out. It is a coping behavior, but also I tend to have a weird sense of humor and just find things funny, regardless of the situation.
MTI Harris as we'll call him, sized me up the first day and I fell into the "fat farm category" even though I was under the official limit when I joined boot camp. I got sent to these fun little meetings (yes, I am being sarcastic) where we were lectured on eating properly, told to stop being fatties. Eventually a few weeks into the routine, I happened to be one of the last people to leave the room and the 'instructor' asked me how much I weighed, at this point I had no idea but my BDU's were not fitting snuggly. I mentioned how I was 155 when I joined and she turned to MTI Harris and said "Well why is she in this class then?!" and he shrugged and said "well she looked like she needed it". Great. Just friggin great! And thus began my negative body image problems. I had tip-toed around it growing up, but this is the first time it was blatantly shoved in my face. Never having dieted in my 21 years up to this point, now I felt like a circus freak with my MTI pointing at me calling me Fatty McFatterson.
In tech school I got down to about 145 lbs, which put me in a size 4. I really liked that I could fit into a size 4, let me tell you. That lasted until I started dating Jeff. I like to eat, he likes to eat. I was a size 8 when got married, and then oh boy was it down hill from there.
I had tried dieting. Yeah, you name the diet, and I probably tried it. When I found out that I was pregnant in 2005, to my utter shock and dismay, I weighed in at 194 lbs at the doctor's office. Surely, that couldn't be right!? Long story short, I ended up with Gestational Diabetes, and a vow that once I was done being pregnant I was going to work my patootie off and be in the "best shape of my life damnit!"
Fast forward 4 years. My weight has fluctuated, I've been up, I've been down... and now ... TA-DAAAAH! Weighed myself on March 22 (the day before Zoe's 4th birthday) and I weighed 200 lbs. I broke the barrier. I am officially (other than my pregnancy when I totally blocked out whatever they said my weight was) now the heaviest than I have ever been. And I'm miserable about it. I have been miserable about it for almost a YEAR now, when my boyfriend mentioned that I had gained weight since he met me. Sure, I've had a tough go of it, with the divorce and all that came before it. I'm an emotional eater. Wish that I could be like my mom and lose weight when she's stressed. I'd be looking like a supermodel bobble-head if that were the case.!
On November 24, I realized that I was only six months until I hit the dirty-thirty club. Last year on my birthday I had vowed to be in the best shape of my life by the time that rolled around. 6 months to show time, and surprise!! I keep on keeping on, eating all my comfort foods, feeling completely awkward in my own skin. Nov 24 is also the last day I blogged on this particular blog. The day that I found out that my grandfather, and truly my only father-figure in my life had passed away. Downward spiral to this, 200 lbs.
I have 2 weddings to attend, my 30th birthday to greet, and oh about 50 pounds to lose. I've tried and failed in the past. This time its all about Failing until I succeed.
Started Pilates Beach Body Boot Camp last Tuesday, tonight is my second class. I've been keeping track of what I've been eating, and it hasn't been pretty. I've got the section where I plan what I'm going to eat for the day, and then what I actually eat. Needs some work, but this time around I'm just brushing myself off and trying again the next day.
Speaking of Pilates, my class is in about 20 minutes so I gotta rush on out of here. Later!
Life In Pieces
8 years ago
