What screws us up most in life is the picture in our head of how it's supposed to be. How we are supposed to be. And how we are (at present) is a culmination of how we were in the past. It doesn't mean we cannot change, it just means that the new journey starts now. But I think that in order to appreciate the new, we have to acknowledge (accept) the old.
It has been years since I was truly happy with the way I look. And it is my fault. (There. I admit fault.)
My weight now is drastically different than my weight in high school. Yes, this is entirely normal for the majority of people to say. But I'm talking about 100lbs different.
I graduated in 2001 at about 118lbs. I played volleyball year round. I coached volleyball. I danced competitively. I worked on the weekends. I could eat whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted, and my metabolism gobbled everything up.
The first couple years of university sailed by. I gained a little weight (as one will do when their activity levels drop but consumption levels remain the same). In late 2003, I switched from the pill to Depo. Then the weight gain increased. I went from around 125lbs in 2003 to about 145lbs, but I looked healthy. In my second year (2005) of being on Depo (and my first full year of not being in university even part time), my weight jumped by another 20lbs or so.
So did my bra. I was heavier, but my weight was pretty evenly distributed. To be honest, I knew I'd gained weight, but I didn't know how much. Until one day I went to put on my 36A and spilled out of it. Time to go shopping.
36B? No luck. (You've got to be kidding me, right?) 36C? Holy. Shit. (I guess I was wrong.)
Then came 2006. Really unhappy time. I'd jumped around from apartment to apartment (cost, roommate situations, etc.), was working two part time jobs, and wasn't able to save a penny. And I wanted desperately to go back to school. I went through most of the year living on poor choices and crappy food. Then, in the summer, I asked M&D if I could move home so I could go back to school. I enrolled again, and moved back in. And then had to promptly drop my classes due to a late September trip to Japan to visit SL.
I was by far at my heaviest during this trip. I was starting to lose myself and my cardio-health. Perfect time to change, right? Wrong. It was easy to get comfortable and not make changes because, once 2007 rolled around, I used the excuse of "I'm in school full time and working part time, I don't have spare time."
So my weight continued to creep up, up, up.
It has continued to creep up, up, up.
And it's time to finally say, "My weight ballooned because I am lazy. I am the reason I weigh what I weigh." Yes, Depo made me gain a few pounds. Yes, I gained more when my metabolism slowed around twenty-five. But I could have made a change then.
I didn't.
I need to.
In March 2012, I met JV. I was feeling terrible about the state of the dating world (numerous blind dates after a year of online dating), but a bit better about myself (I'd been dating, and had lost a couple pounds). Still uncomfortable in my skin, we met for dinner, and the rest? Well, history. It's almost two years later and we're very much together (though very far apart for the time being). In the time we've been together, I've lost a few pounds, gained a few pounds, and repeated this process a couple of times.
But it's time to just lose.
You see, JV is very fit. He runs marathons. He does triathlons. He has completed Ironman 70.3, and this year is racing in a full Ironman + the Canadian Death Race. I have been to countless races and watched him start and finish. One day, he gave up smoking and started running. He hasn't stopped running. He loves it. And he desperately wants me to love it.
The unfortunate thing is that even at my peak fitness levels in highschool, I was never a distance runner. I could sprint, I could dance for hours, I could play volleyball all weekend. No problem. But running? It's never been my forte.
Every time I go to a race, he thanks me for being there. And every time I see him finish, he says he'd be so much happier if he was watching me finish a race.
I want to be the healthy girlfriend he desires and deserves. I want to be able to go on a crazy hike in the Rockies and not want to die at the top. (Hell, I'd love to be able to run for the bus and not feel out of breath.) And I want desperately to feel his pride in me as I finish something intense.
And it's not just for him that I want to do this. Yes, that is a big part of it. I think, personally, that speaks to the strength of our relationship and the depth of our feelings ... he (quite literally) makes me want to be a better me. I want to be a better me for me, for him, for our future family.
So I did something crazy. I signed up for a Spartan race. In approximately twenty weeks I will be competing in the Spartan Sprint (5km). Next month, my race training starts at the gym. Last week, JM signed up to race with me.
I'm terrified of this race, but 5km spread out between fifteen obstacles doesn't seem as intimidating as a straight 5km foot race (oddly). But as if that wasn't enough, I've put my name on a run guide mailing list so I am notified when run registration opens in my city, because at the very least I need to be able to run 5km continuously.
I'd love to challenge myself more and say I need to complete a 10km race. To do this, I'll definitely need to join a run club. So in a bout of curiosity, I found a women's only run training program. It starts at the end of May.
At the end of May, I'll have been training for my Spartan for almost three months. With any luck (in combination with will power, determination, a healthy diet, and wanting to surprise JV on his return from ON) I'll have slimmed down significantly, gained a lot of cardio strength, and some nicely toned muscle.
This is the plan. This is what I need to hold myself to. I need to become accountable for my own health, because I owe it not only to myself, but to my loved ones. I need to be healthy. I need to be happy.
I just need it.
