I grew up fit.
I never could understand why overweight people were like, “I don’t want to work out because I’m so fat you won’t be able to see my muscles.” or “It will just make me bulkier”.
What they were trying to say is, “Why work so effing hard if you can’t see my efforts?”
I get that now. I 100% get it, and I’m frustrated.
I’ve been working so hard, you guys. I’ve been showing up at the best gym in Santa Rosa Beach, Florida, with the most supportive coaches and community.
I’ve been leaving it all out on the floor.
I’ve been dealing with my messed up relationship with food and helping that get better through Precision Nutrition. I still get to eat the way I’m comfortable eating and work on my effed up relationship with food in an organic way, with help from my coach who is readily available to me.
I’ve been DOING THE THING.
I’ve been eating better with so much less stress, I’m at the gym four to five days a week, and I’m getting plenty of sleep on my (amazing) new mattress.
And I’m still fat.
I feel really good. My energy has increased, my moods are better, and I have some definition in my arms that definitely wasn’t there before. Actually, so much so that I can’t stop craning my neck to look down at my shoulder and bicep and my neck kinda hurts from my constant self-admiration.
But then I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and everything changes.
I see a picture that shows the back of my arms and I cringe. You can’t even see my elbow for the flap of fat that hangs over it. I see my ankles that have a ring of fat at the bottom of them and CELLULITE – WHO HAS CELLULITE ON THEIR ANKLES? I see a waist that has gotten smaller but thighs that appear to be getting larger.
When I look down on my body, I’m good. I’m happy with the progress.
But when I see pictures like these from my gym’s grand opening this past weekend, I literally have to choke back tears because all I see is a walrus in jeans, which means that anyone outside of my gym is just seeing that too.
At least the people I work out with know how far I’ve come, know how strong I am, and know that I’m working hard so that I DON’T look like this forever.
But the knowledge that when I go out in public, people don’t see a strong woman, but a fat one, really bothers me. I have so many things to be excited about right now, but it’s super hard to push through this frustration and be happy for them. Why?
Because when it all comes down to it, I’m still fat.
And I make no excuses for that, I just wish my body would catch up with the way I feel.
I’m trying to combat this frustration by remembering to check my measurements – which have gone down. I’m trying to remember that I’ve lost nearly 40lbs since Jan 1 and nearly 15 inches since March 7. I’m trying to be happy about the fact that I can fit into jeans that wouldn’t even go above my hips in December. I’m trying to be happy about the fact that I can lift heavy things now and complete a whole workout in CrossFit.
But it’s hard. I’m not going to lie. It’s stinking hard.
I’m NOT a fat girl, and yet here I am… a fat girl.
Looking at before and after pictures makes me realize that I’ve come a really long way. The reason I’m where I am today is because of the work I’ve been putting in the past three and a half months. I realize I can’t look like a fit girl overnight, or even over the course of a quarter when I had SO damn far to go when I started.
All I can do is set my sights on my goals and keep showing up and leaving it all out on the floor. And I’ve got to remember that people’s perception of me doesn’t matter. I know what I’m doing and where I’ve come from.
Screw the Judgey McJudgersons.
At least that’s what I’ll keep telling myself.