Workin’ On My Fitness; Or, F U, Swimsuit Season

Time for a little more Big Girl talk.

It seems I am on a neverending quest to lose weight. I was always a big child and teenager {which I am convinced my parents are thankful for, since it seemed to keep me off the dating market and decidedly unpregnant}. I got to a nice healthy weight in college while playing competitive tennis, and thought I looked pretty good. Then my varsity tennis career came to an end and I still had a few more class requirements to take before I could graduate. So I spread them out into two small full class loads, got an apartment, and worked a few more hours at my crappy part time job.

My parents were kind enough to spring for a small meal plan so that I could eat lunch on campus during the day and not have to rush home between classes. So I continued to eat like I was playing three hours of tennis each day and drink like, well, a college student. The weight piled on. Over Christmas break of 2002, my grandfather told me I needed to lay off the groceries. I cried. A lot. And over the course of the next few months, I just stopped eating and took pretty drastic measures to lose weight. It started coming off and I was happy. I wasn’t healthy, but I was losing weight and people were noticing. This continued for a few years, over which time I met and fell in love with and married my husband. I can’t help but wonder if I would have even turned his head back then if I looked like I do now. I know that’s a horrible attitude to have, but he was a stud and I didn’t really get any attention from guys as a Big Girl. So of course in my head that means I have disordered eating and compulsive exercise to thank for my marriage and beautiful family. Which is absolutely untrue and a kind of sick way to feel. And my husband finds me very attractive now, he tells me I’m beautiful every day, our romantic life is in no way suffering, blah blah blah. But still. I would love to give my husband back his former hot wife. Who I ate.


After having two children in just a little over two years, I find myself heavier than I have ever been in my life. And I’m tired of it. I’m tired of being self conscious about my body. I’m sick of feeling like a chubster. I want to be an active mom that can participate in activities with her kids without getting tired and winded and embarrassed of stuff jiggling and wiggling all over the place. I want to get out of a swimming pool without immediately rushing to hide in my towel or cover-up. I have to do something about this.

My message board does weight loss challenges every six months or so for 10 weeks. I participated in my first one last fall and lost an abysmal seven pounds. I didn’t really try. I don’t know why. I figured that playing tennis twice a week was good enough and my diet wasn’t really THAT bad. Apparently I did something wrong after the challenge ended, because I gained back the seven pounds I lost plus about 10 more. Ridiculous.

So in short, this whole being fat thing?  Ain’t nobody got time for that.  Unfortunately, that whole exercise thing?  Ain’t nobody got time for that either.  But like I told a coworker today, you make time for the things that are important to you.  So for the past couple of weeks I’ve been making time to exercise six or seven days a week.  Whether it be a walk around the neighborhood, a few miles on the treadmill, or some quality time with Jillian and the 30 Day Shred, I’ve been doing it.  It was hard at first, but I powered through as best I could.  I am very grateful to my darling husband who will give me that hour in the evenings to exercise without having to worry about inadvertently kicking a toddler off the treadmill, or having a 3-year old whine about the ladies on TV and WHERE IS MICKEY MOUSE CLUBHOUSE?!  And it’s the darnedest thing, but now I actually want to exercise.  I look forward to working up a sweat every day.  Maybe it’s the endorphins talking, but gimme some more of that.

And I’ve lost about five pounds in the past two weeks.  When you’ve got as much weight to lose as I have, it’s a marathon and not a sprint.  Five pounds might not seem like much, but it’s a good start for me.  I’m hoping to continue to watch what I eat and exercise every day, and hopefully the pounds will come off steadily if not quickly.  I just need to get it through my thick head that I cannot eat like a normal person.  I’m always going to have to be conscious of what goes into my body, because I’m a grazer and can eat to excess without even realizing it.  My Fitness Pal has really helped me take stock of what I eat during a regular day.  I think twice about eating something if I know I will have to enter it into the app, and if I’m getting into the danger zone with calories consumed I know that I have to get in some quality exercise.  When I stick with it, it really helps.  So here’s hoping that I stick with it.

And who knows.  Maybe someday soon I’ll be able to wear a swimsuit in public without wanting the earth to open up below me and swallow me whole.  That’s my ultimate goal.  Do you have any fitness goals?  What are you doing to accomplish them?

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