Wrapping My Head Around Me

I can’t wrap my head around the new me. My mind is not catching up with my body.

So many people are noticing the changes. I get a lot of compliments and it’s truly lovely.
I smile.
I say “Thank You”.
I joke and tell people to say it again. But I’m consumed with the feeling that I’m still the “fat girl”.

I can’t bring myself to shop for clothes in a regular store. I go to the same stores I went to before and buy clothes because I need the “airbag” of being able to get that bigger size if I need it.

I stare at my body in the mirror, picking apart the “not so great” parts rather than focusing on the really fantastic changes.

I know the people who know me see the difference, but I almost want to wear a sign that says, “I’ve lost over 80 pounds! I’m still fat, but not like I used to be!” so the people who didn’t know me before don’t judge me.

OH LORD! I hate that I even wrote that last sentence.

It’s because I constantly judge ME and this makes me so OVERLY concerned that others are doing it as well.

I never thought that losing weight would solve all my problems. BUT I’ve been blindsided by the fact that it has brought on a different set of issues.

Different body issues.
Different mind issues.
Different spirit issues.

I WANT to feel beautiful and awesome and sexy.
I want to feel strong and thin and fast.
And a lot of the time, I totally do.

However, there’s this chubby girl inside me that hasn’t fully departed and she casts shadows of doubt.
She reminds me that as far as I’ve come, I have further to go.
She reminds me that this next leg of the journey is going to be even more difficult.
And although the realist in me appreciates her candor, it brings the rest of me down.

And I just can’t get her to STFU!

Please believe me when I say that I AM proud of myself.
I, above all, know my sacrifices and hard work and BY NO MEANS do I feel sorry for myself.
I am just ready to look in the mirror and see what everyone else sees.

I remember being overweight and glancing at my reflection in the mirror and wondering who the fat chick was following me. I was in denial about what I truly looked like.

Now it’s the opposite. Where there is a girl with a more pronounced waist and cheekbones and waaaay smaller boobs, I see rolls and fat and ewwwww.

I want to look in the mirror and recognize myself as a friend. I want to see someone that I’m proud of. I’VE WORKED SO HARD! The voices of doubt and negativity are quieter, but they’re still there….and somehow they’re still just a bit louder than my true voice.

So, my newest challenge is not losing weight. I’m doing that, albeit slowly.
It isn’t running farther. I’m doing that too. Slowly as well, but it’s getting done.
It’s not becoming stronger. That’s happening.

My newest (and greatest) challenge is this:
KINDLY AND GENTLY PUT AWAY WHO I WAS AND LISTEN.
LISTEN TO MY *TRUE* VOICE, SO I CAN BECOME WHO I’M MEANT TO BE.

Not just someone who simply IS thinner, faster and stronger

BUT someone who *FEELS*
Thinner
Faster
Stronger
MORE CONFIDENT!

I’m ready for my body, mind and spirit to be on the same page.
I’m ready for my stars to align.
I’m so freakin’ ready.

I Motivate ME!

***I also blog on a website and sometimes they make it on there, but not here...today I'm posting some old ones :) ***

I went to a Boot Camp last week.

Allow me to preface this story with how welcoming, fun and lovely the people running the Boot Camp were. There was no crazy Louis Gossett, Jr. guy calling me “May-O-Naise” as I drudged through mud and up and over walls. Just a super attractive, really nice couple who took turns leading us through some pretty tough exercises.

It was leg day.

It all started because I have a new friend. He recognized that I’m a “work in progress” and said, “Come to the Boot Camp. It’s free the first time. I’ll be there.”

So, a free Boot Camp, with support. Why not?

Here’s why not….. for me.

I am my own worst critic. I hate, LOATHE, when I can’t do something that everyone else is doing. Then I over do it. Every time I felt like I had to stop, I felt like a failure. This makes me want to quit, which in turn makes me pissed because I’ve come so far.

And apparently, I don’t like positive reinforcement.

My friend was so nice as he tried to motivate and inspire me to keep pushing...
“You got this Heather.”
“Just one more.”
“Don’t you quit”

Until I got to him during some crazy hopping exercise and said as I looked him dead in the eye, “I’d really like it if you just didn’t say anything, AT ALL.”

I MOTIVE MYSELF. I know when I can and can’t.

I know when I need a break.

I KNOW, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that even if a stop to rest I will finish EVERY.SINGLE.REP.

I’m not the fastest or the strongest or the thinnest.
However, I AM the most determined.

I want to succeed.
NO, scratch that, I NEED to succeed.
Failure is not an option and I will continue to push myself until….FOREVER.

So, although I may do another Boot Camp, I don’t want special treatment. I don’t want someone supporting just me.

I support myself.

I MOTIVATE ME.

Do You Really Want to Win? Because I DO!

Here’s the deal. In this life we’re both cheerleaders and players. We are there to cheer our people on. We remain positive when they miss a field goal. We cheer for them when they fumble and encourage and motivate them to get to their goal. But, if there’s one thing I’ve learned in the past year it’s that you have to be your own cheerleader too. I know we need these other cheerleaders in our lives too. I would not have come this far if it hadn’t been for those key people in my life who grabbed their pom pom’s and gave me an “H!” However, I also had to learn to grab my own pom poms. Every time I hit a milestone, did something I couldn’t do before or tried something I wouldn’t have tried before, I had to be on the top of my own victory pyramid.

At the beginning of the football game, the cheerleaders fire up the crowd. They get them excited. They stand at the entrance of the tunnel and cheer for the team to come out. And the team comes out with a vengeance. They run out, pounding their chests, jumping up and down and feeding off the energy of the crowd.

I want to come running into life like that.
I want to be fired up.
I want to jump up and down and pound on my chest.
I will fight like hell to make my goal until the last buzzer sounds. Even if I don’t win, I will not be defeated.

Lately, though, I’ve felt like I’m cheering for the wrong teams. I’m cheering for those who are already defeated. “But” you may say, “those are the ones who need it most!”

What about what I need?

I’m on a journey and it’s starting to hit me that the closer I get to the Heather
I’m supposed to be, the further I’m going to get from the people who were satisfied with the old Heather.

The pushover
The fake-happy
The people-pleaser
The put-my-life-on-hold-to-help-you-deal-with-yours

That girl is going away.

You’re either on the new team bus wearing the school colors or you’re not. And for that matter, if you’re not gonna wave your own flag for yourself, I’m not going to hoist it up for you.

I’m busy waving my own.

The fact is I no longer have the time or energy to continue to fight for those who don’t fight for themselves. I’m living proof that you can drastically change your life. If you don’t like how it’s panning out, do something. You’re not helping anyone by sitting there and feeling bad or living with the status quo because it’s easier.

I was you. I have lost respect for that other me and I’m losing it for you.

DO SOMETHING, ANYTHING.

It’s time to get up, run down the tunnel and pound on your own chest. I’ll be on the sidelines with my pom poms when you’re ready, but until then I’ve got my own game to win.

I Owe Me An Apology

Dear Heather of One Year Ago,

I owe you an apology.

Hell, I owe you a couple of apologies.

I owe you an apology for not taking care of you like I should have.
I owe you an apology for not giving you the credit you deserve.
I owe you an apology for the time I wasted when I was you.

But most of all, I owe you an apology for not loving you enough.

It’s time for some brutal honesty. Sometimes, when I look at pictures of you, I hate you. I’m disgusted by you. I can’t even look because I feel like you’re such a failure.

But I am wrong. I am SO VERY wrong.

It was you.

It was you that took the first step on the track with your friends.
It was you who decided to run that first 5K.
It was you that started buying healthier items at the store and logging every bite of food.
It was you that started this path I’m on.

It was you.

How can I hate the person who believed in me the most? You didn’t give up. The things we do to our body now were far more difficult for you when you started.

Remember the first night you decided to run the straight-aways at the track?
You waited until everyone you knew was gone, so only strangers would see you look foolish. That is 1/16th of a mile. Now you’re training to run a 13.1 with your friends.

Remember the first spin class?
You chose the bike closest to the door so you could leave when you wanted. You didn’t stand up when the teacher did. In your head , if you pedaled the whole time it was a victory. Now you go at least once a week and easily keep up with the teacher.

Remember the skinny jeans at the top of the closet?
You worked you’re a$$ off until they fit and you shrunk out of them before you could even wear them out.

It was you this whole time.

We still have a long way to go, but I would be mistaken if I continued to treat you with disrespect because you helped me become me.

At my current weight and fitness level I face a different bunch of challenges that will be so much easier because I got to learn from you.

So, although you may be surprised at what we can do now- don’ t be. It’s because of YOU that I am where I am today.

Thank you, Heather, from the bottom of my (much healthier) heart for taking those first steps.

Thank you for making goals and sticking to them.

Thank you for making me so much healthier and happier.

Thank you.

Love,
Yourself

NO,REALLY! LOVE YOURSELF!