Monday, November 09, 2015
Wednesday, July 22, 2015
Pants.
I look at the last time I posted and it is well over a year since I posted last.
So much has changed ... for the better.
That isn't even the reason why I came on here. I'll post an update in a later post, but things should start to come full circle here.
Last year, at this time, I was starting to tip the scale quite far in the wrong direction. It isn't where I wanted to be. Alas, I was fighting some major depression (even though I had just graduated) and things were not good. I was working nights and days at the same time, trying to save money to get to Europe (I fell in love instead), and "trying" to lose weight. I figured that wishing my weight away was going to get me there. That works, doesn't it? I wasn't sleeping and what I was eating wasn't healthy, but it was fast, cheap, and easy. (That sounds dirty ...)
Fast forward one year.
I am an Independent Beachbody Coach. I get to HELP people for a living. (Which, for you Choices folks, is my purpose.) For you non-choices folks - I got to put words to what I already do in my life this past February. With the help of my family, and my Just Hug It group, I learned that I am a worthy woman, teaching others to love themselves. I get to do that every single day as a Beachbody Coach. I get to help people love who they are, who they're about to become, and really fall in love with themselves. I get people to love who they are RIGHT now and love who they're going to become. Wave your freak flag, friends. I wave mine every. single. day.
I wrote in a post, probably about a year and a bit ago, where Tyson told me that I needed to love and appreciate my body NOW, not just wish for the goals and dreams. My body still holds me up (and it held a lot more of me up then), it still breathes for me, it still moves for me, it still dances for me. Yet, I couldn't be happy with it. It wasn't until I learned to appreciate myself as a whole person and let go of nearly 27 years of what was probably some minor body dysmorphia, some depression, an addiction to the scale, and a lot of depression about my shape in general that I actually began to get the body I want.
You want to know why I started working out seriously?
The program was cheaper than buying new pants. That's it. I didn't sign up to be a coach, I was unsure, I was hesitant, and I was skeptical ... but it was cheaper than buying myself a pair of new pants that I so desperately needed. I was at the point where I could not afford to buy new pants; I needed to fit into what I already owned.
I didn't sign up to do this for the money or for the rewards. I signed up because I couldn't fit into the clothes I had (I have an obscene amount - ask Tory)
I have struggled with negative body image for as long as I can remember. Two memories have always stuck out in my head that started the ball rolling with this. I will share one of them with you - I was probably about 8 years old. I saw myself as some kind of blimp-8-year-old, but looking at pictures I really wasn't. I was just an average kid. Anyways, I was at someone's house and we were going to go into the hot tub. So, I put on my brand new two piece, wrapped my towel around myself, and waited for my friends. We were watching a show on TV and we were going to finish it. I was sitting down on the floor with my knees up and my towel on the ground. Someone looked at me and said the words "Aww, look at your rolls!"
That has messed with me so much in the last 20 years that it is probably worth some therapy. For real. That started the reason that I am obsessive about the scale, why when I work out I take it too seriously and count every single calorie and don't allow myself to have anything and I workout 3 times a day.
For those reasons, I was also scared of doing my Beachbody program - which, may I say, was the easiest nutrition plan I have ever followed and 2.5 months later I still use it and still think to myself "oh, that's gonna be 1 red, 1 orange, 1 yellow."
When I graduated high school, I weighed 160 pounds & I promise you that it was a very different 160 than I weight right now. Then, I decided drugs would be a grand plan (they're not) and all of a sudden I weighed about 115. (Also not a good look for me) I bounced around from 130-145 for a while and then in my last two years of university I made the steady climb all the way to 175. One hundred seventy-five pounds. Not a great look for me. That seemed to be the threshold where people started to really believe me when I said what I weighed. That was it. 175.
I am PROUD of who I am, I am PROUD of the body that I have built. I didn't build it for you, I didn't build it for Tory, I didn't even build it for ME at first ... I built it for PANTS.
Don't get yourself wrong - I am not a robot. I still bif it here and there (usually in the form of a Big Mac or a Poutine), I miss workouts, I sleep in, I'm not always super positive. However, I don't beat myself up anymore. If I know I'm not going to get a workout in between driving 1000km a week (I did that for 6 weeks), boyfriend time, life time, sleep time, etc., I still throw in some squats, or pushups, or a walk. Know the weird thing? I get EXCITED about working out now. I can't sit and watch TV all night or day anymore. I get excited about finding new recipes and nailing my nutrition plan.
Point is - I'm happy with myself in the IN BETWEEN part now. I learned to love myself at 175 pounds, I love myself at 160, and I'm still shooting for all of my goal weights & measurements. I love myself now.
I didn't start working out because I was in a place where I hated myself anymore ... I started working out for my pants.
So much has changed ... for the better.
That isn't even the reason why I came on here. I'll post an update in a later post, but things should start to come full circle here.
Last year, at this time, I was starting to tip the scale quite far in the wrong direction. It isn't where I wanted to be. Alas, I was fighting some major depression (even though I had just graduated) and things were not good. I was working nights and days at the same time, trying to save money to get to Europe (I fell in love instead), and "trying" to lose weight. I figured that wishing my weight away was going to get me there. That works, doesn't it? I wasn't sleeping and what I was eating wasn't healthy, but it was fast, cheap, and easy. (That sounds dirty ...)
Fast forward one year.
I am an Independent Beachbody Coach. I get to HELP people for a living. (Which, for you Choices folks, is my purpose.) For you non-choices folks - I got to put words to what I already do in my life this past February. With the help of my family, and my Just Hug It group, I learned that I am a worthy woman, teaching others to love themselves. I get to do that every single day as a Beachbody Coach. I get to help people love who they are, who they're about to become, and really fall in love with themselves. I get people to love who they are RIGHT now and love who they're going to become. Wave your freak flag, friends. I wave mine every. single. day.
I wrote in a post, probably about a year and a bit ago, where Tyson told me that I needed to love and appreciate my body NOW, not just wish for the goals and dreams. My body still holds me up (and it held a lot more of me up then), it still breathes for me, it still moves for me, it still dances for me. Yet, I couldn't be happy with it. It wasn't until I learned to appreciate myself as a whole person and let go of nearly 27 years of what was probably some minor body dysmorphia, some depression, an addiction to the scale, and a lot of depression about my shape in general that I actually began to get the body I want.
You want to know why I started working out seriously?
The program was cheaper than buying new pants. That's it. I didn't sign up to be a coach, I was unsure, I was hesitant, and I was skeptical ... but it was cheaper than buying myself a pair of new pants that I so desperately needed. I was at the point where I could not afford to buy new pants; I needed to fit into what I already owned.
I didn't sign up to do this for the money or for the rewards. I signed up because I couldn't fit into the clothes I had (I have an obscene amount - ask Tory)
I have struggled with negative body image for as long as I can remember. Two memories have always stuck out in my head that started the ball rolling with this. I will share one of them with you - I was probably about 8 years old. I saw myself as some kind of blimp-8-year-old, but looking at pictures I really wasn't. I was just an average kid. Anyways, I was at someone's house and we were going to go into the hot tub. So, I put on my brand new two piece, wrapped my towel around myself, and waited for my friends. We were watching a show on TV and we were going to finish it. I was sitting down on the floor with my knees up and my towel on the ground. Someone looked at me and said the words "Aww, look at your rolls!"
That has messed with me so much in the last 20 years that it is probably worth some therapy. For real. That started the reason that I am obsessive about the scale, why when I work out I take it too seriously and count every single calorie and don't allow myself to have anything and I workout 3 times a day.
For those reasons, I was also scared of doing my Beachbody program - which, may I say, was the easiest nutrition plan I have ever followed and 2.5 months later I still use it and still think to myself "oh, that's gonna be 1 red, 1 orange, 1 yellow."
When I graduated high school, I weighed 160 pounds & I promise you that it was a very different 160 than I weight right now. Then, I decided drugs would be a grand plan (they're not) and all of a sudden I weighed about 115. (Also not a good look for me) I bounced around from 130-145 for a while and then in my last two years of university I made the steady climb all the way to 175. One hundred seventy-five pounds. Not a great look for me. That seemed to be the threshold where people started to really believe me when I said what I weighed. That was it. 175.
I am PROUD of who I am, I am PROUD of the body that I have built. I didn't build it for you, I didn't build it for Tory, I didn't even build it for ME at first ... I built it for PANTS.
I'm doing a Combat program right now (Beachbody, of course) and they say
"We don't use machines, we BUILD them."
Don't get yourself wrong - I am not a robot. I still bif it here and there (usually in the form of a Big Mac or a Poutine), I miss workouts, I sleep in, I'm not always super positive. However, I don't beat myself up anymore. If I know I'm not going to get a workout in between driving 1000km a week (I did that for 6 weeks), boyfriend time, life time, sleep time, etc., I still throw in some squats, or pushups, or a walk. Know the weird thing? I get EXCITED about working out now. I can't sit and watch TV all night or day anymore. I get excited about finding new recipes and nailing my nutrition plan.
Point is - I'm happy with myself in the IN BETWEEN part now. I learned to love myself at 175 pounds, I love myself at 160, and I'm still shooting for all of my goal weights & measurements. I love myself now.
I didn't start working out because I was in a place where I hated myself anymore ... I started working out for my pants.
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