Weight Loss and Fatletics

Hello

I’ve had this blog up for a couple of days, so I thought it might be time for an introduction. My name is Mandy. I’m from Newfoundland, Canada and I started this blog to challenge myself, as well as keep me accountable.

I’ve struggled with my weight most of my life. I’ve always been asthmatic and not very active. I was a pretty skinny pre-schooler but ballooned in the first grade. It’s been an uphill climb ever since. I have been on some sort of restrictive diet most of my life. As a young child, I remember trips to the dietitian. I developed an unhealthy relationship with food at an early age. Food is both my comforter, and my adversary. My reward and my undoing.  I eat when I feel stressed, emotional, bored, celebratory, etc. Then I feel guilty and go on a crash diet, until my willpower cracks and I binge again. My metabolism is completely shot.

At the grocery store, I would always feel embarrassed if I bought treats. I’d end up buying enough for a party, so the cashier wouldn’t think I was buying junk, just for myself (as if they even noticed what they were checking in!) This, of course, was a slippery slope, because I’d end up eating it all myself. A mukbang without the audience. I disgusted myself.

I’m sure I’m not alone in this. I mean, who hasn’t eaten an entire large bag of chips (or two) in one sitting, and called it supper, am I right? Just me? Ok then..

I hit rock bottom about 6 years ago, in 2012. I weighed myself for the first time in a long time. In horror, I read the numbers. 304.4! Seeing the 3 at the beginning of the number revolted me. How could I let it get this far? I decided I was going to go for a walk that day. That was going to be the start of a new, active me. Of course I’ve said these words to myself before then. Many times I’d start, but I never stuck with anything long-term. Little did I know, this time was going to be different. This time I was going to be stronger, more determined.

It was the 24^th of May long weekend. A beautiful spring day, and I had made my mind up. I was going to walk as far as the neighbourhood grocery store and back. It was brutal. It was a sweaty, wheezy battle, to get to the crest of the “hill” (ie. mild grade). I did manage to get as far as the grocery store, but I was so exhausted. I knew I wasn’t going to make it back home. I had bitten off far more than I could chew. Being the long weekend, the buses were running on their holiday schedule, and few stores were open. I had to shuffle my way to a Marie’s Mini Mart to take out some cash, from their sketchy ATM, and call a cab. Even though the cabbie didn’t know, what I'd just went through, it was still embarrassing for me. I was embarrassed of my own judgement of myself. Perhaps shame is a better word. Something just clicked together in my mind that day. I knew I was finally ready to put in the work, that was necessary to change my life.   

I started small. Shorter walks and water aerobics. Gradually I increased the distance of my walking. By the following spring I was walking at least 5km per day. I also started taking land aerobics classes like Zumba. I felt amazing and the weight was just flying off of me. My friend and I, got this crazy idea to sign up for a local race, the Tely 10. It is a 10 Mile (16km) race. If you had asked me a year from then, if I would even consider joining a 16km race, I would have laughed at you. But in that moment, I was ready for a challenge, and a tangible goal to work towards. We had planned to only walk it. Our training consisted of long walks and we would have been happy if we just finished the race. On the day, we lost our minds (in a good way). With the excitement of the crowd; my dad (who was doing the race with us) encouraging and pushing us; the support and camaraderie of my friend; and the overwhelming feeling that we were a part of something astounding, we started to run! Do I recommend running a race without proper training? NO! By the end of it, we were both completely spent. My legs were jelly and I felt like I needed to throw up. But all of that was worth it, because nothing can compare to that feeling of accomplishment and pride.

Me after my first race. So exhausted but proud!

 Towards the last quarter of the race there is a hill. It’s arguably the hardest portion of the race course. Every year they line the sides of the street with volunteer cheerleaders, to give runners that extra boost to get themselves to the finish. Being a plus sized woman, jogging through that tunnel of encouragement, was so emotional. I felt like a freakin’ Olympian! I couldn’t stop the tears from forming. As someone who once couldn’t even walk to the grocery store, getting a medal put around my neck was the best feeling ever. I was hooked from that day forward.

This is me in the line up, waiting for the Tely 10 to begin; my second year participating

Me during my weight loss, weighing in for a Dietbet

 I threw myself into healthy eating and exercise. In total I lost 125 pounds and I felt fantastic. I honestly never realized how sick I was, until I lost the weight and felt what my new normal was. But it was a constant struggle. The first year, I maintained my lowest weight. Then once race season ended, and the holidays were approaching, I let myself relax a bit. I gained 30 pounds. The same pattern followed in subsequent years. It felt like, if I wasn’t exercising to extremes, and following a strict diet, I’d gain. And once I gained, it was nearly impossible to get it back off. Despite my efforts, I have about 90 pounds back on, since my lowest weight 4 years ago. But I still feel so much better than I had 6 years ago. I can do so much more and my body has become accustomed to a certain level of activity. I’ve entered this, often overlooked/dismissed, world of fat athletes (fatletes?). Working out is not just for skinny people! Chunky girls can run too (or walk; or bike or swim etc).

Me running my first Half-Marathon, The Huffin Puffin

I am 90 pounds heavier, but I’m still running races. Two years ago I ran my first half-marathon. I did it for the second time this summer too. I was slow as cold molasses, but I did it, and I’m proud.  

Me running in the Tely 10 this year. 90 Pounds heavier, but still going!

Of course, I received my share of unsolicited advice, from well-meaning friends and family. Some suggested I was exercising too much, so I’d slack back, to devastating results. Others suggested juicing, Weight Watchers, Cross-fit etc etc...  I’ve tried every class, diet, trick and fad there is. By the end of it, I realized the only thing that remotely worked was devoting every bit of spare time to exercise. I was getting up early in the mornings to weight train, running outside or at the track after work, then doing some sort of Zumba class in the evenings. I’d give myself one rest day a week. All this, just to maintain. The losing had stopped and I was stuck desperately trying not to gain any more. If I stopped, I’d gain. I was obsessed and it wasn’t healthy. Not only was I stressing myself out, I gained the weight anyway. It became clear I needed help. I discussed my troubles with my doctor, who ordered a blood test. Turns out, I was fighting a losing battle with my Thyroid. I’ve recently started hormone replacement therapy, and I’m hoping it will help alleviate the feeling of helplessness.

I know this isn’t a magic pill that’s going to make the weight fall off of me. I still need to put the work in, but with any luck it’ll fix my metabolism issues, and make it easier to maintain a healthy weight, without killing myself at the gym. I’ve already lost 8 pounds so far (probably mostly Christmas bloat. Haha!) I’d love it if you’d join me on this journey. Don’t ever be afraid to start (or re-start). It’s always worth it. YOU’RE always worth it!