*GASP* A Progress Picture

I’ve blogged about progress pics before.  If you’re too lazy to click the link (which I know most of you are because my analytics tell me so) the gist of it is, posting the “before” picture literally gives me a panic attack.  Like a palms sweating feel-like-I-might-burst-into-tears panic attack.

I don’t want to think about what I looked like before I started.  And like I posted this weekend, I really really really don’t want to consider the possibility that I will end up back there any time soon.

But ya’ll I’ve got to tell you, I am so so proud of myself here lately.  I posted a pic of me flexing at the gym yesterday to Facebook and got an overwhelmingly supportive response from my friends.  The best compliment was from a friend I haven’t seen in a long time who told me that I’m the fittest he’s ever seen me.  Since the last time he saw me was about two weeks before I raced a HALF IRONMAN, that’s saying something kittens.

So to keep with my mantra of overcoming my plethora of fears, I’m saying eff it.  Without further ado, here is my progress to date.

progress pic October 2014

The picture on the left was taken right after I completed a 62 mile charity bike ride back in March, and the pic on the right was taken on Sunday.  It was leg day, but I couldn’t resist taking a flexing selfie because dem guns doe.

I remember when the pic on the left was posted to Facebook I almost cried.  That was the start of a big turning point for me when I realized something had to give.  I was riding 4-5 days per week, doing Crossfit 5x per week, and was still busting out of my size 14 jeans.  The fact was, I was sabotaging all of my success with a shitty diet and bad drinking habits.

I started slow in March, and really ramped up my efforts after a work conference in June that I had to buy a new suit in a size 16 in order to attend.  I had never been that large, and didn’t want to be again.

Today, I am SO PROUD not only of the weight I’ve lost, but of the muscle I’ve put on.  Obviously, it’s a journey.  I’m not done yet, but I can’t hide behind my fear of failure to the point I don’t celebrate my successes either.

So there you have it readers.  Feel free to tell me I look fabulous.  My ego loves you all already, so you might as well stroke it some more.

And if you’re feeling up to it, share your pics too!  Feel free to link to your blog in the comments, I want to cheer you on too. 🙂

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I wish I was as skinny as I was the last time I thought I was fat

braille

My sister and I are in pretty much the same boat; our weight has yo-yoed up and down since puberty.  Different diet and exercise fads along the way have propelled us in one direction or another, and while over the past two and a half years I’ve really worked to find some balance, the psychological food demons still exist.

Sis is going in for gastric bypass next week, and as you all know I’ve been on a now 13 week lifestyle overhaul that has resulted in over 30 lbs of weight loss so far.

cranky

She and I were talking the other day and she said something so brilliant, I have to share it here.

I wish I was as skinny as I was the last time I thought I was fat.

That seriously got me thinking.  Just a week ago I was nearly brought to tears when I tried on a pair of jeans I used to wear in college (COLLEGE guys), and they fit.  Granted, I would never actually wear them for real now because apparently in college having your inseam so tiny that your vayjayjay almost falls out was totally a thing.  What the hell good is a two inch zipper anyway?  But I digress.  My college jeans fit.

And yet, when I look at my body in the mirror I still note that I can’t see my abs yet and there’s still some inner thigh jiggle that I want gone.

I’m the smallest I’ve been in years, and because I’ve done it through awesome lifestyle changes that include weight training and a super healthy but not restrictive diet, I’ve got a great physique.  But in my head, it’s still not enough.

The last time I was this weight I was training and racing a Half Ironman.  I also remember thinking that I wanted to be smaller then.

But I’ll tell ya what gang, if four months ago I could have just woken up one day and looked like I do now I probably would have burst into tears from joy.  I have come SO FAR and I actually really love how I look if I give myself 10 seconds to think about it.

So really, the moral of this story is simply this… appreciate the body that you’re in.  Recognize that if you’re psycho like me you may never be happy with how you look, but give yourself permission to take a step back and celebrate your progress.

That’s what I’m doing today.  And every day.

Now that's what I call confidence.
Now that’s what I call confidence.