I have tried very hard on this journey to health not to let the scale dictate how I feel or how I perceive myself. No matter what the scale says I am still the same person: the same insecurities, strength and emerging confidence. My body is changing, there are muscles that can be seen and felt where before there was a layer of fat. Clothes that were snug are loose and some clothes really don't fit at all even if I persist in wearing them.
For the most part though the scale is something I brave once a month and hope for the best. I can tell myself a million times my measurements are looking better and better, my body fat percentage is going down and when the number on the scale barely budges I still feel disappointed and let down. I know muscle weighs more than fat, but I still want those numbers to go down.
I weighed myself before Tough Mudder and I was at 244 pounds. Trust me, seeing that number on Friday morning in the midst of packing did nothing to make me feel better. On August 27, I braved the scale again. The number was better than I expected: 236 pounds. I weighed myself again this morning and the scale read 234 pounds.
I can't say I'm doing anything differently. I am tracking my food in an online diary, trying to be careful with the kinds of carbs I eat because I really feel better if I eat lower carb choices the majority of the time.
I've thought hard about what might suddenly be making the difference and finally posted about it on a group I belong to on Facebook. A friend had an interesting idea I hadn't considered. The confidence I gained in myself during Tough Mudder might have knocked things in gear.
It's absolutely true that finishing Tough Mudder changed me. I don't feel confident and capable every second of every day, but more often than not now I feel good about myself and what I can do. Case in point: the other day I had a chance to talk briefly with a friend and she told me she had been behind me in the hallway the day before and she was just shocked and amazed at how strong my legs looked like strong trees I believe. There was a time I thought to be attractive I had to have skinny perfect little legs with no jiggle at all (thank you airbrushed magazine photos) and a compliment like that would have crushed me. Now I realize how much more I want to be strong than I want to be the narrow definition of beauty you can see on most magazine covers.
My first personal training session after Mudder Ben and I talked about my goals and what I wanted. Tough Mudder 2014 was at the top of my list, I am going to do it again. Ben asked if I had ever considered a strongman competition. Well, maybe briefly in my wildest dreams, but nothing to voice out loud. I still don't like criticism after all. He said he thought it would be something I'd enjoy and we could certainly train for that if it was something I had an interest in. I must have grinned for 3 days straight after that.
So here I am, 19 months into my journey and 59 pounds lighter than I was when I started. To put it in perspective for myself while I was grocery shopping this morning I walked down the baking aisle and looked at the 5 pound bags of sugar. I have lost the equivalent of about twelve of those bags. That's impressive to me. No wonder I have more energy and feel so much better! For the moment my goal is to lose 41 more pounds to get to 100 pounds total. Then I will be 193 pounds. I'm not sure where I'll go from there, but I know the journey isn't over yet.
Thanks for reading!
Saturday, August 31, 2013
Sunday, August 11, 2013
I am a Mudder
I DID IT!!
Despite being scared to death I lived through Tough Mudder New England. I was part of a team of ten people and several of my teammates were completing their second Tough Mudder. I'm going to do my best to explain the experience and my thoughts to you, but I'm not sure I have the words. I'll give it a try...this could be a long post.
Friday at 5:30 am I completed my final workout before Mudder. I walked in and Ben asked me if I was nervous, I was honest and said I was terrified. I tried not to overdo the workout, but to be honest a part of me wanted to overdo and maybe weasel out of Saturday.
No such luck, I made it through the workout with not a scratch (given my inability to get the lateral lunges right until I had Ben to model them for me, it's a wonder). Then it was home to walk Abbey, pack and try not to think at all about what I was planning to do on Saturday.
Saturday morning dawned and the butterflies fluttering in my stomach ramped up the fluttering to break dancing. It got worse as I registered, had someone write my number on my forehead and my forearm, pinned on my number and approached the start. Luckily Carole had thought to tell me that before we got to the start we had to go over a wall. With help from Logan, Eric and Tyler I made it over. Hailey and Carole were waiting on the other side to remind me to lower myself with my arms before I jumped so it wouldn't be as far.
The fear let up a little at this point and I got into the spirit at the start. The MC led us through "The Star Spangled Banner", 10 seconds of silence for military personnel and then we all recited the "Mudder Pledge". Everyone was pumped up, it was infectious. Suddenly for the first time I didn't want to cry: I wanted to put my training and hard work to the test.
We started up the mountain. In my mind I was keeping a good pace and I didn't feel like my lungs were going to explode out of my chest. I was feeling good at that point. As often happens when you are feeling good about where you are and what you're doing, something happened that could have turned the whole day around.
A group of young men (I would guess mid-20s at the oldest) were lounging near the top of the incline and as I passed with another FFS Badass, one of them made the comment "Badasses? Yeah, right look how slow they are going" or something similarly rude. I heard them and my stomach clenched. 53 pounds ago that comment would have ruined my day: I would have taken it to heart and been hurt. How ridiculous is that? Letting 3 men I didn't even know ruin something for me. I told a couple of other members of my team what I'd heard, shrugged it off and kept going.
The obstacles were interesting. First up was more walls, with a twist. The obstacle was called Glory Blades. The walls were tilted so you couldn't just jump and scale them unless you had a lot more upper body strength than I possess at the moment. No matter, with help from my team I made it over and felt darn good about it. There was more up hill climbs, a chance to slog through muddy water and over and under some logs, the mud mile and more climbing up. Also the Electric Eel. Imagine crawling on your belly on a slip n' slide someone thoughtfully placed under electric fences. Yep, I paid money to get zapped. I got zapped a bunch, mostly on the butt, once in the right leg and at the end, in the butt, head and right shoulder all at the same time. Good times, good times.
We were approaching Walk The Plank, where you climb a tower, jump into a pond and then swim to shore. I wanted to try that one, but as I was going up I met some mud that wanted me to head back down the mountain. I stepped, slipped and felt that old, familiar pull in my lower back. "Oh -----"(you may insert the swear word you like best). This was about mile 2 in an 11 mile course. How was I going to do this?
I could have stopped there, no one would have thought any less of me, but I would have thought less of myself. I decided one foot at a time was how I would proceed. If the pain was debilitating I would stop and ask for a medic...maybe. Hailey managed to scrounge up Advil for me. With 800 mg of ibuprofen in my system off we went to face the course again. The Cage Crawl and Boa Constrictor obstacles came and I went happily through them. Cool water felt darn nice on my aching back.
I got to the Arctic Enema and jumped in. I made it halfway and then my mind got the best of me. The water was freezing and muddy and I needed to duck down and go under a board. Had I done it before I thought about it I would have been fine, but I thought about it and I panicked. I went over to the side and one of the volunteers helped me out (well, he tried to help me out, I wasn't exactly being cooperative. I didn't know him, didn't trust him, so it was a lot harder than it could have been). I sat on the platform for a few minutes until Sylvie and Hailey came to coax me down. There were tears: I had let my mind get the better of me and I hated that. I sucked it up and on we went.
Mount Snow is a lovely mountain, the view from the top is truly spectacular and I know this because I think we walked up the mountain at least 8 times. It's possible I am exaggerating, but not by much. The steeper sections were torture, I stopped thinking about doing it one foot at a time and changed my focus to one foot in front of the other and stopping to stretch my back every few feet. Different members of our team dropped back to offer encouragement and support and Hailey and Eric kept pace with me, encouraging me every step.
We made it to the top of the mountain near a chair lift and Hailey led me through some yoga stretches, though honestly in extended child's pose I mostly hunched over and sobbed. My back hurt, I was exhausted and I was afraid I was going to fail. At that point I reminded myself where I started, I reminded myself of my training and I heard my coach's voice in my head. "Do it! You can do it! Dominate this!" echoed and I pushed back to my feet. My team believed in me, my coach believed in me: I had to believe in myself too.
I'd love to tell you the rest of the course was a breeze, that I did it with no more tears and no more moments of wanting to admit defeat and ask for a medic. That was not the case, but every time I wanted to quit my friends were there to coax one more step.
To make a long story a little shorter: I finished Tough Mudder. I have the t-shirt and orange head band to prove it. A friend who completed Tough Mudder last year told me it was life changing. She was right. I hurt when I finished, I won't lie about that, but I felt better. I found the mental and physical stamina to go on when it would have been easier (possibly even wiser) to stop.
The little voice that belittles and berates me was silent and has been silent since a TM volunteer put that orange headband on me. I know that voice probably is not gone for good, it will sneak back in at some point, but now I will silence it. I'm strong, I've always been strong I suppose, but I didn't believe it before now.
I'm already thinking about what I need to make sure I do before Tough Mudder New England next year. We'll see if I choose to compete again, but if I do I KNOW I can do it.
I've been very long winded and I thank you for sticking with this entry. I'm sure there will be further posts about Tough Mudder, but this one begged to be written tonight.
Back to your evening...thanks for reading!
Despite being scared to death I lived through Tough Mudder New England. I was part of a team of ten people and several of my teammates were completing their second Tough Mudder. I'm going to do my best to explain the experience and my thoughts to you, but I'm not sure I have the words. I'll give it a try...this could be a long post.
Friday at 5:30 am I completed my final workout before Mudder. I walked in and Ben asked me if I was nervous, I was honest and said I was terrified. I tried not to overdo the workout, but to be honest a part of me wanted to overdo and maybe weasel out of Saturday.
No such luck, I made it through the workout with not a scratch (given my inability to get the lateral lunges right until I had Ben to model them for me, it's a wonder). Then it was home to walk Abbey, pack and try not to think at all about what I was planning to do on Saturday.
Saturday morning dawned and the butterflies fluttering in my stomach ramped up the fluttering to break dancing. It got worse as I registered, had someone write my number on my forehead and my forearm, pinned on my number and approached the start. Luckily Carole had thought to tell me that before we got to the start we had to go over a wall. With help from Logan, Eric and Tyler I made it over. Hailey and Carole were waiting on the other side to remind me to lower myself with my arms before I jumped so it wouldn't be as far.
The fear let up a little at this point and I got into the spirit at the start. The MC led us through "The Star Spangled Banner", 10 seconds of silence for military personnel and then we all recited the "Mudder Pledge". Everyone was pumped up, it was infectious. Suddenly for the first time I didn't want to cry: I wanted to put my training and hard work to the test.
We started up the mountain. In my mind I was keeping a good pace and I didn't feel like my lungs were going to explode out of my chest. I was feeling good at that point. As often happens when you are feeling good about where you are and what you're doing, something happened that could have turned the whole day around.
A group of young men (I would guess mid-20s at the oldest) were lounging near the top of the incline and as I passed with another FFS Badass, one of them made the comment "Badasses? Yeah, right look how slow they are going" or something similarly rude. I heard them and my stomach clenched. 53 pounds ago that comment would have ruined my day: I would have taken it to heart and been hurt. How ridiculous is that? Letting 3 men I didn't even know ruin something for me. I told a couple of other members of my team what I'd heard, shrugged it off and kept going.
The obstacles were interesting. First up was more walls, with a twist. The obstacle was called Glory Blades. The walls were tilted so you couldn't just jump and scale them unless you had a lot more upper body strength than I possess at the moment. No matter, with help from my team I made it over and felt darn good about it. There was more up hill climbs, a chance to slog through muddy water and over and under some logs, the mud mile and more climbing up. Also the Electric Eel. Imagine crawling on your belly on a slip n' slide someone thoughtfully placed under electric fences. Yep, I paid money to get zapped. I got zapped a bunch, mostly on the butt, once in the right leg and at the end, in the butt, head and right shoulder all at the same time. Good times, good times.
We were approaching Walk The Plank, where you climb a tower, jump into a pond and then swim to shore. I wanted to try that one, but as I was going up I met some mud that wanted me to head back down the mountain. I stepped, slipped and felt that old, familiar pull in my lower back. "Oh -----"(you may insert the swear word you like best). This was about mile 2 in an 11 mile course. How was I going to do this?
I could have stopped there, no one would have thought any less of me, but I would have thought less of myself. I decided one foot at a time was how I would proceed. If the pain was debilitating I would stop and ask for a medic...maybe. Hailey managed to scrounge up Advil for me. With 800 mg of ibuprofen in my system off we went to face the course again. The Cage Crawl and Boa Constrictor obstacles came and I went happily through them. Cool water felt darn nice on my aching back.
I got to the Arctic Enema and jumped in. I made it halfway and then my mind got the best of me. The water was freezing and muddy and I needed to duck down and go under a board. Had I done it before I thought about it I would have been fine, but I thought about it and I panicked. I went over to the side and one of the volunteers helped me out (well, he tried to help me out, I wasn't exactly being cooperative. I didn't know him, didn't trust him, so it was a lot harder than it could have been). I sat on the platform for a few minutes until Sylvie and Hailey came to coax me down. There were tears: I had let my mind get the better of me and I hated that. I sucked it up and on we went.
Mount Snow is a lovely mountain, the view from the top is truly spectacular and I know this because I think we walked up the mountain at least 8 times. It's possible I am exaggerating, but not by much. The steeper sections were torture, I stopped thinking about doing it one foot at a time and changed my focus to one foot in front of the other and stopping to stretch my back every few feet. Different members of our team dropped back to offer encouragement and support and Hailey and Eric kept pace with me, encouraging me every step.
We made it to the top of the mountain near a chair lift and Hailey led me through some yoga stretches, though honestly in extended child's pose I mostly hunched over and sobbed. My back hurt, I was exhausted and I was afraid I was going to fail. At that point I reminded myself where I started, I reminded myself of my training and I heard my coach's voice in my head. "Do it! You can do it! Dominate this!" echoed and I pushed back to my feet. My team believed in me, my coach believed in me: I had to believe in myself too.
I'd love to tell you the rest of the course was a breeze, that I did it with no more tears and no more moments of wanting to admit defeat and ask for a medic. That was not the case, but every time I wanted to quit my friends were there to coax one more step.
To make a long story a little shorter: I finished Tough Mudder. I have the t-shirt and orange head band to prove it. A friend who completed Tough Mudder last year told me it was life changing. She was right. I hurt when I finished, I won't lie about that, but I felt better. I found the mental and physical stamina to go on when it would have been easier (possibly even wiser) to stop.
The little voice that belittles and berates me was silent and has been silent since a TM volunteer put that orange headband on me. I know that voice probably is not gone for good, it will sneak back in at some point, but now I will silence it. I'm strong, I've always been strong I suppose, but I didn't believe it before now.
I'm already thinking about what I need to make sure I do before Tough Mudder New England next year. We'll see if I choose to compete again, but if I do I KNOW I can do it.
I've been very long winded and I thank you for sticking with this entry. I'm sure there will be further posts about Tough Mudder, but this one begged to be written tonight.
Back to your evening...thanks for reading!
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