That's a pretty big number in the title. That number represents my weight before I started this journey. When I was chosen as a Biggest Mooser finalist I was 293 pounds, but when I decided things had to change, that I had to change, I weighed 309 pounds. That's more than I can squat at the moment and a lot more than I can bench press. In fact, 309 pounds is close to 80% of my current deadlift PR of 385 pounds. My point: it's a big damn number.
I remember struggling to walk a flight of stairs. The school where I work has two floors. There are 21 stairs in the main stairwell. I know this because I used to count them as a way to distract myself from how hard it was to walk up. I remember how hard it was to fit into a seat on an airline and when I did fit how it felt to put the seatbelt on. I had to make it as big as it could get and then I had to suck my gut in and hope like hell it would buckle. It did, but it was uncomfortable. Do you have any idea how it feels to need to turn sideways to get down the aisle on a bus or a plane or any aisle in any vehicle because your hips are too big to allow you to walk down the normal way? That is beyond uncomfortable
There wasn't much that wasn't uncomfortable at 309 pounds. About the only thing I didn't mind was being invisible.
I'm not 309 pounds anymore. For some reason I was under the impression that when I weighed less the struggle would be over. Yes, I really was naive enough to believe that if I changed my weight I wouldn't be me anymore. It's never worked for anyone else, but at some point I got it in my head that I was different and somehow I would be a completely new person when some of the weight was gone. Would you care to hazard a guess about how that has turned out?
Yeah- pretty much like you'd think. I am a different size, but I am still the woman I was before. Guess I am not that special after all.
Recently I've struggled. Struggled with feeling worthy, struggled not to attack myself for being human. I've even struggled with getting to workouts and then when there's a partial recovery week and I don't have to worry about whether or not I'll be able to talk myself into getting to my workout I feel bad. If you are getting the feeling that I can and do worry about everything in the world you're right! It's probably a good thing we practice breathing every week at Yoga Corr and the coach reminds us that our breath is the one thing we can always control. Another 4,000 repetitions of that advice and I might actually take it to heart.
I do have another point for writing this post and it isn't just whining. I don't know how many of you reading this have heard about or watched the show STRONG on NBC (Thursdays at 8 pm if you are interested). When I first heard about it I wanted to watch it because the premise was fascinating. A chance to choose a coach and work on getting fitter and stronger compete against other teams in challenges. The first couple of weeks there was a lot of drama between the teams and if it hadn't been for the challenges I don't know if I would have kept watching. The challenges have me hooked: many of them look like things that could happen at Pride and even things I could do.
On this week's episode the Gray Team left the competition. I've liked the Gray Team from the start. Jasmine seemed like a fighter and she seemed to be keeping her head down and getting it done. I respect that. While they showed Jasmine and Wes saying goodbye to the remaining three teams they cut from that to Jasmine speaking about her experience and her journey.
I don't think I have all her words exactly right, but what she said hit me. It made me sit up and take notice. All credit for the words goes to Jasmine Loveless, STRONG and NBC. All mistakes are mine:
"Part of that fight was for every single woman who has ever felt less than or made to feel like somehow she took up too much space in this world. Go ahead and take up that space. That is what it looks like when you are not afraid to take up your space and be strong and beautiful and bold and fight like hell."
What she said was interspersed with the goodbyes and scenes of Jasmine and Wes at the top of the Tower.
I'll be the first to admit I'm not entirely comfortable with who I am. I want to be true to myself. I want to be strong. I want to continue competing as a powerlifter and see how far I can go. There is still a part of me that remembers all too well being 309 pounds and wanting to be invisible. Jasmine is right though: I have a right to be here. I have a right to take up as much space as I want.
Recently I've spent a good deal of time silencing that negative voice, shushing the nasty little whispers about my worthlessness and lack of skill wishing I could be invisible if only long enough to get around the pond without everyone seeing I am dead last and the damn ducks are moving faster than me (not just when they were flying, that I expected, but when they were waddling along in front of me. Dear God, I got lapped by DUCKS).
The first time I slogged through a sad pond run I cried most of the way. I was last, everyone else was cooling down and stretching. I didn't quit, I kept going, but I fully expected I was in for it when I finally made it back.
You know what I got? Not the lecture I was sure I'd earned and the mean voice in my head assured me I deserved. What I got was a smile, a fist bump and someone whose opinion matters a whole lot to me telling me I'd done a good job fighting and finishing. How did I feel? Like a HUGE pile of SUCK. I checked in with another person whose opinion matters to me and he reminded me I'm a powerlifter and I shouldn't let things like that discourage me.
So to make this long story a little shorter: there's still work to be done on this journey. More pounds to drop, more muscle to build and absolutely more work to do on the inside. The mean, nasty voice isn't as loud as it once was, but it is there waiting for the chance to pipe up.
I won't quit: I have every right to take up my space, to be strong, to be bold and to fight. I have a right to train with the coaches I work with now. I am worth their time and their talent. I have a right to take in everything they are trying to teach me and apply it to become a better, stronger version of me. The weight may have changed, but the person I have always been is still the same.
I might not always be comfortable, but I'm not turning back now.
Thanks for reading.
