I've Still Got A Long Way To Go............

This topic has been something that's been on my heart and mine for a while now, I just have never had the guts to post about it. But lately it's been consuming me, and for me, the only real way to release that is to let it out in the world. Maybe someone can relate or it will spark meaningful conversations. As with almost everything I post, that's my goal.

So here we go. Here's my confession.

I'm still not confident in my body.

Now I know some of you are thinking "duh- no one is...that's part of being human". But I also know some of you are thinking "Stop being so hard on yourself!". So let me explain.

I've lost almost 150 lbs. At least once a week, someone says to me "you must feel so incredible". And I do- honestly, I do. I feel proud of myself, I feel stronger, and I feel healthier. But even after losing 150 lbs, I still don't feel super awesome in my own skin.

Some days are worse than others, of course. Example, about a month ago I was at a networking event. This thin, beautiful, athletic young woman said to the group "I just started the 21 day fix- I need to get bathing suit ready". I immediately started to compare myself to her. If SHE thinks SHE needs to fix her body, then clearly I have a LONG way to go!

I also wear clothes that are still just a little too big. I'm not yet confident enough to show off any skin or parts of my body. I wore a tank top on Sunday night, and the mental battle I went through to even wear that was incredibly challenging. I won't wear skirts or dresses to work our out if they are above the knee. I hate showing off my arms. And my legs are where a lot of my excess skin from the weight loss has landed, so I'm having some serious anxiety about wearing bathing suits.

I wear a lot of black or darker colors. I don't want to stand out. Not because I like to follow the crowd or because I want to fit in, but because I don't want any attention- negative or positive. I'm just not there yet.

I've tried to figure out why I am struggling here. Is it because of the excess skin? That could be part of it. Sometimes I just grab the little extra skin pouch on my tummy and wish I could peel it off. Sometimes I think about getting surgery to remove it.  But really, I think I struggle because....I'm human. I think there is a huge misconception that weight loss is going to be the magic cure for these kinds of issues. And while my weight loss has been the biggest gift I've given myself, and it's improved my life in nearly ever regard, I can't lie to you and say "yeah, I love my body!" Don't get me wrong- I love parts of it. I love my strong shoulders and calves and that I have curvy hips. But I certainly don't love the whole package.

But damn it, I'm trying. And that's all any of us can do. I didn't write this post for attention or to depress anyone- I wrote it to be real. I'm 100% the body positivity movement and I read nearly every article out there about loving your body. I also do not judge other people on their body- I'm loving and open to everyone of all shapes and sizes and find everyone beautiful- I know that sounds cliche and maybe a little hypocritical but it's very true. I'm slowly trying to adapt it to my own life. I'll get there, I hope.

I will end on a more positive note to say that while I'm not 100% loving my body, I am 100% loving what my body CAN DO. I can run 3 miles, I can lift weights, I can do yoga and run up stairs and move faster. For those reasons, I love my body. Also, not loving my body does not mean I do not love me, or that I think I am any less worthy of love, respect. I still think I'm pretty awesome.

Goobye to The Y

I joined the Birmingham YMCA in February of 2014, just a few weeks after I had accepted my position at the American Cancer Society. I was about 8 months into my weight loss journey and had lost 50 lbs. Because of my new job I wasn't going to be able to go to the gym I had been going to every morning at 5 am- it just didn't make sense for my commute. At the time, I was devastated to leave that gym. I didn't think any gym would ever replace it. I was worried I wouldn't be able to keep up my weight loss progress. I doubted that the Birmingham YMCA would ever be "home" for me.

I was wrong.

The Birmingham Y is not the greatest, most up to date Y. It's small, it only has a few of each machine, and the weight room is often pretty crowded. So why then, am I so sad to say goodbye to this place?

Mostly, Bootcamp. I remember my very first Bootcamp class. I was looking for a challenge, but I was nervous I wouldn't be able to do it. And, honestly, I barely did it. I remember coming home and saying "Dude- we had to run up and down the stairs for 2 minutes in between sets". Even though I was down 50 lbs, I was still heavy- and Bootcamp was hard for me.

But then I met Sarah. Sarah was a trainer at the Y. She and I hit it off right away. She was funny, calm, and helped me to understand things. She really encouraged me to keep trying Bootcamp- especially when she started teaching the class. It was her class that made me fall in love with the challenge of Bootcamp. Sarah made that class feel like you were just hanging out with your friends. We all got to know each other, we challenged and pushed each other. She encouraged us to try new things or try heavier weights or to run a little further. She let us do what was best for our bodies while pushing us to go further. I looked forward to every Tuesday and Thursday with Sarah and the rest of my Bootcamp buddies.

Over the years, I've tried new classes, designed my own workouts on the days I wasn't in classes, shared my weight loss story, fell in love with kickboxing, laughed with my classmates, trained to climb 70 flights of steps, learned how to properly lift weights, and, most importantly, become a much more confident individual. The confidence could come from the weight loss, sure- but I can't help but think that it also comes from the sense of empowerment that I got from the Y.

Within the last 6 months or so, we've had a new Bootcamp instructor named Josephine. Josephine is this tiny little thing, but she is fierce, and she is challenging. She pushed me to a whole new level with bootcamp. I always walked out of her class totally exhausted, but feeling like I climbed a mountain or could take on the world. I seriously looked forward to each and every class of hers, and even gave up many of my Saturday afternoons to take the noon class with her.

Tonight I took my final Bootcamp class at that YMCA. With my move, I am switching over to the Y that is closer to me....in fact, it's in walking distance. I couldn't help but feel emotional about leaving. That place really has become my home. I was there 5-6 days a week, almost every week, for two full years. That's a lot of time to spend anywhere! But it's not just the time I spent there. It's the milestones that I hit while I was there, it's the friends I made there, it's the memories of burpees and stair climbs and zumba and yoga and, most dearly, bootcamp.

So now I start a new chapter. I've reached my goal weight, but that won't stop me from going to the gym or continuing to challenge myself. I still have records to beat, weights to lift, and classes to take. And while I'm doubtful any experience will compare to my time at the Birmingham Y, I am looking forward to a whole new challenge.

Thank you Sarah, Josephine, and everyone in between for the support you have shown me over the last two years. You've given me more than I could ever express.

Give me strength for the fight

Today as I was leaving the hospital, after visiting my dad, I began to feel incredibly overwhelmed. My stomach felt like it was being punched repeatedly, my hands were a bit shaky and I just wanted to go lay down somewhere. This feeling has come over me several times over the last few days. I know the feeling well. It's called anxiety.

After I talked myself through the physical feelings, I started to sort out the mental. I came home, collapsed into my bed head first, and had a heart to hear with myself.

Me "Dude! Why are you having such a hard time this time around? You should be an old pro by now!"

Me "I don't know. Maybe it's because I'm also moving in a week and because work is so busy right now"

Me "But when Dad was in the steroid psychosis you were in the midst of Strides season- and you were a Strides manager! and you handled that just fine!"

I sat with that for a while. Why do I feel like I handled it fine, maybe even handled it better, back then, but that I'm barely holding on now? At first, I started to see this as a sign of weakness. Maybe I'm not as strong as I think I am.

Or maybe I just don't remember how much I struggled. You know how people always tell pregnant women that they will never remember how much pain they felt during delivery? They'll just remember holding onto their sweet baby for the first time? Maybe it's kind of like that. Maybe I just remember my dad coming out of the psychosis, and the incredible sense of relief we all felt. I bet if I looked back at some of my posts from those days, I would find plenty of examples of when I was "barely holding on".

Or, maybe, I shouldn't compare. I preach all the time that we shouldn't compare ourselves to others. But I guess we also shouldn't compare ourselves to...ourselves. We're not always going to be 100%. We're not always going to be strong. Life brings different circumstances and surroundings every single day and not one day can be exactly the same as the next.

I'm working on accepting that- that I have a right to be where I am now, emotionally. That I don't have to "stay strong" (even though those are the words people love to say the most). I can just BE. I don't need to feel guilty about how I am or am not acting. I don't need to worry about making everyone else happy. I can only do what I can do in these moments. I can't promise you all that you are getting the very best version of me right now, but I can promise you that you're getting the real, raw me.

As for my dad, he's hanging in there. The poor guy carried a look of sadness today that really tore at my heart, and maybe that's why I felt so defeated. I hate seeing him so down, and I wish I could snap my fingers and fix it. I feel helpless, and that's probably leading to a lot of my own emotional distress. I like to be able to help- and when I can't, I feel a little out of sorts. Please continue to keep my dad in your prayers, and send him all the positive vibes and sunshine you can muster up.

You Come Back To What You Need

As most of you know, last week myself and my family were dealing with the news that one of the spots in my dad's brain showed significant growth. We found out late Tuesday afternoon. Over the next few days, all of us pondered what direction this would go. We really only had two options: steroids or surgery. Steroids once through my dad into a psychosis, and not one of us ever want to deal with that again. He's also already had two brain surgeries- how many brain surgeries can a man have?

Apparently, three. Or more, maybe. Because on May 6th, my dad will have his third brain surgery to remove yet another growth. The neurosurgeon says the spot is an easy one, and that the surgery should be a breeze. So that's a relief. Kind of.

It's still brain surgery. It's still his THIRD brain surgery.

It's yet another "roadblock". It's another unpredictable next step. And it's scary.

While we were dealing with that news, and with decision making, I was having one of my busiest weeks at work. It was a good busy- a lot of exciting things were accomplished and I was able to build on some really strong relationships to set me up for some success later down the road. But it was pretty hard to enjoy all of that while worrying about my dad, and my mom, and being mad at cancer and scared and annoyed AND trying to "stay positive" because Lord knows that's what everyone would tell me to do.

One more layer to add so that you can get an idea of how my brain was feeling by the end of the week: I'm also moving in a month. Moving can be stressful on anyone. But my move is a big change. Tom and I are going to be living together. Trust me, he and I are both incredibly excited and giddy over this, but we're also both scared. Neither of us have lived with a significant other before, and personally I never thought I would live with someone until I married them. But, somehow, our course has led us here, to this next step. And if you know me at all, you know I'm scared of next steps. Any next step. Anything that is unknown or new to me, terrifies me.

So it's no surprise to me that over the weekend, I slept... a lot. My entire body was feeling the exhaustion. I slept in, let the couch consume me, and went to bed before the sun was down. I needed sleep. Or maybe, I needed to shut down my brain. Either way, I slept a lot.

On Sunday evening, I took a walk. I was feeling completely overwhelmed with the thought of starting a new week (yet another busy week at that). I was wanting the weekend to go on forever.

At some point during my walk, "This Love" by Taylor Swift started playing. I love some T Swift, and that song, but for whatever reason, hearing it on Sunday night just brought out a lot of emotion in me. The calm, whimsical melody brought out a peace in me. Something about it reminded me that I am right where I need to be, and that although times are stressful and unknown and chaotic, it's all going to be okay. I don't really know HOW I got that message, it's not exactly the message of the song, but in that moment, that is how I interpreted it, and that is what brought me peace.

The song says that she let a love go, and then it came back to her. I guess somehow I related this to my relationship with God. Sometimes I run away from God, or put up a wall, or lose trust in God. But God always comes back. That trust comes back.

I'm sharing my story with you because I know there are people out there who are feeling chaotic, messy, scared, and maybe hopeless. But let me remind you that you are where you are meant to be, life is happening as it should, and you are not acting alone. God is by your side.