You’re Best is Good Enough

Now that I’ve been working consistently with women of all different shapes, sizes, backgrounds, races and abilities I’m come to notice a certain trend.

We all need to stop apologizing.  Just Stop.

I hear apologies for nearly every woman client that I have throughout the day.  Here are a few I hear each day:

  • Sorry I’m late! Traffic was……
  • Sorry I couldn’t do those last two reps, I just……
  • Sorry I could have put that away……
  • Sorry I didn’t mean to be in your way……..
  • Sorry…..
  • Sorry…..
  • Sorry……

UGGGGGGH.  STOP WITH THE SORRYS!  I’m starting to see a difference in what sorry means to some of us.  Sorrys should be for accidents, broken promises and grievances. I think we are both confusing what this word means and how it should make us feel.

I think to most women sorry really means = I feel guilty I didn’t do better.  This leaves you with three choices: continuing to feel bad and guilty, choosing to do better or accepting that you’re good is good enough.

Continuing the Cycle: Does it ever really feel that good to say sorry? It shouldn’t.  Sorry should be for BIG things.  It seems like we use it in place of “Excuse Me” “Pardon Me” “I didn’t mean to” “Accidental”……when it’s not supposed to mean any of those.  Sorry is for asking forgiveness, being vulnerable and waiting to see if you can be forgiven.  How can you say sorry 100 times a day and it not wear on your self esteem? If you are constantly apologizing for every little thing you do, aren’t you eventually apologizing for your existence?

Choosing to do Better: I hear “Sorry, I just couldn’t keep going…..” all the time at my job.  Let’s be clear: if you can to do better, do better.  If you can’t, you can’t. You shouldn’t apologize for your own limits but you also shouldn’t use Sorry as an excuse.  How many times a day do you start sentences with “Sorry”?  Maybe, instead of being sorry, do better. If you are doing your best, don’t ever apologize for it.

Which leads us right into the last portion:

Accept Your Good is Good Enough: If you’re best is your best, don’t apologize for it.  You’re best won’t be the same each day but if you can keep a high standard and always present your best, people will believe it’s your best.  A lot of feeling ‘less than’ comes from comparing yourselves to others.  Every person has battles going on that you know nothing about.  That person running faster than you on the treadmill? They are running from some pretty serious addictions demons and unless they reach that peak heart rate zone, the endorphins won’t kick in and help that guy through his day.  The woman that has super strong legs and can deadlift more than you? She used to be obese and fights the same battle day after day.

The point is: you’re best isn’t the same as anyone else’s best. So who controls what’s good enough? Who decides that meter? You.

When is your good going to be good enough?

I am sorry message

I have a current client who does countless amazing things.  She’s a Mom, has a career and even does lots of volunteer work.  From the moment I met her, I knew two things about her: she’ll always give her very best because I’m not sure she knows how not to and she thinks she should be even better.  She was constantly struggling to prioritize herself in her own life, which is easy for me to say from the outside.  I could see her being pulled in 50 different directions and at the end of the day, it was her who suffered most.

During our workouts together she would constantly apologize for her things outside her control.  One day I had to call her out on it.  I jokingly asked “Do you apologize for everything?”  And I could see her think about it.  Over the course of the workout I tried to point out every apology when she meant something else.  The less she apologized, the more her mood lifted.  After a few more workouts, she stopped apologizing so much.  After a few weeks, she shared with me how much she realized she’s always done it.

I’m now starting to see this woman transform into someone new.  Our words have more power, meaning and weight then we know.  Count up your apologies today and see how many are really meaningful and how maybe substitute another feeling!

I Still Still Hate My Body

Alright, so last week’s post stirred up a lot of excitement!  Even though I tried to word it really carefully, I still feel like people didn’t quite get it.  People are calling me, approaching me at work, to say “Love yourself!”

To be clear: I FREAKING LOVE MYSELF.  Sometimes I worry I love myself too much! 🙂 I absolutely love my body’s abilities and all the things that I can do.  I think I’m beautiful and overall pretty freaking hot.  I wear a small in everything and size 2 jeans.  Men notice when I change my hair and often hold doors for me.  I have killer arms and even the guys are jealous of my calves.  I’ve worked hard for every single thing I love about my body.  I’ve molded it from something so far away from what you see now.

99% of people I pass on the street or at my job, wouldn’t even know what I got going on underneath all these clothes.  In clothes, I think I feel more confident more often of the time than most women.  The days where nothing fits right and I just feel fat, don’t happen that often.  (Of course, that makes a difference when you wear yoga pants to work !) I know that I’m beautiful and have noting to be ashamed of or hate about my body.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t.

I spent nearly two and a half decades of my life wishing my body were different and punishing it in all sorts of ways.  I over ate, under ate.  I starved and binged.  I even thought cutting might be the answer, for like a day, because turns out that hurts! (Not funny…..but true) I wasn’t sure how to fix myself or my body so I tried anything I thought would work.  And then I just gave up.

Now take that person and give her a ‘new’ body.  Stick her inside a body that can run for miles, makes guys turn their heads, can deadlift 205 and gets dirty looks from women if I’m showing any skin at all.  But this new body, it’s not something you’ve seen in a magazine.  It’s not a body that any one would expect at age 33.  It’s not a body anyone would choose. Oh yeah, and make her try to figure it all out in a fraction of the time she spent hating it.

That’s where I am.  I’m in the gray area. I changed soooooooo much about my body and life that I hated.  I’ve done some many things that I’ve only ever dreamed about!  I am freaking incredible.  But……7,000,000 sit ups later: I still can’t wear a bikini without stares.  I just want to be real for all my peeps out there.  Weight loss isn’t going to be everything you’ve ever dreamed.  Not only will it be harder than anything you’ve ever done, it doesn’t get easier when you stop losing weight. Maybe it will someday?  Maybe I will wear a bikini someday, but right now I still don’t WANT to.  I still don’t WANT to let people see me and have to deal with reactions.

I recently got a new client who is an 80 year old female.  She is so strong for her age and told me the secret is to never stop moving.  She can still do squats and takes the stairs to the gym, never the elevator.  Today she was complaining about her ‘old lady saggies’ getting in the way. She pulled up her shirt to reveal some loose skin from age.  I quickly pulled mine up too to show her mine was actually way worse. While it comforted her in the moment, and we had a quick joke about it, I couldn’t stop thinking about it later. She had no idea and was shocked.

I know that it’s hard to understand but there’s a huge difference between accepting my body and loving my body. During my transformation, I had to learn to forgive myself for being so overweight and treating myself so poorly.  I feel like I’m starting to get to acceptance of what I did to my body by being so morbidly obese.  I don’t know that I’ll ever love my body the way that it is.  Maybe one day.

I Still Hate My Body

This post is going to be a little sad but also very very honest.

I’ve been at my goal weight for a few years now.  I’m very happy with almost every aspect of my new lifestyle and continue to be able to motivate myself towards new goals.  Even though there are so many things I love about my body now, I still kinda hate it.   I’m hoping to feel ‘meh’ about it in the near future but….if I had to choose…..I still have to go with hate.

To be very clear: This isn’t a ‘poor Kim’ post.  I’m just trying to be real for all my other extreme weight loss peeps out there.  I 100% love what my body can do and I’d still lose the weight every single time.  But….I don’t 100% love the way my body looks.  I know that no one does.  Everyone that we envy or think is perfect still has issues, but when you’ve been through a transformation like me, everyone is shocked to know you still have some confidence problems.

Extreme weight loss leaves behind extreme results but also extreme skin.  I knew after losing 160 lbs, my body would look much different but I never knew what to expect.  The fear of my end result actually stood in the way of my weight loss for a long time.  And now that I’ve been on the other side for so long, it’s weird that it’s still literally hanging around.  And I’m really. freaking. sick of it.

I went through a lot of phases about my extra skin.  Phase 1: At first, I was honestly ok with it.  I loved to watch the show Extreme Weight Loss while I was on my journey. 

(One of my favorite contestants: Bruce Pitcher lost 181 lbs! I still follow him on social media) If they hit their goal weight in 9 months, the contestants on the show would then qualify for skin surgery.  Then at the 12 month reveal, you’d see them post surgery and at their goal weight.  Once I’d completed my transformation, it had been 15 months.  I could not have imagined having surgery that soon.  Changing that much and so quickly is quite shocking.  I’m not sure surgery would have been mentally healthy for me at that point.  It didn’t really bother me at first.  I was so happy to be buying small clothes, it didn’t matter to me that I needed several layers to ‘hold everything in’.

Phase Two: Grossed out anger? Is that an emotion? I’m not sure there’s an emoji for that……… Once I had settled in to my new body,  I found my hanging skin just plain gross.  I had worked so freaking hard, just to carry all this around? That didn’t seem fair at all.  Now I can hold a 2 minute plank but have 4 inches of skin hanging down? Now I can fit into the tiniest shorts in the store, but even I don’t want to see my thighs.

Phase 3: Over it. It has now been long enough that my skin is what it is.  It’s not getting better. So before you email me a lotion to try, a new skin firming technique, or your sister’s friend Suzie’s number because she once lost 20 pounds…….Tried it.  Tried It. and Oh yeah…. Tried it.   Even though my age was in my favor, there’s some things skin can’t recover from.  Lots of my body looks normal, and thankfully those are most of the normally exposed parts.

On the other hand, there are parts that just ain’t coming back. Maybe someday I’ll be bold enough to post a photo.  But there’s no miracle cream that will raise my stomach above my pubic bone.  I’ve been medically cleared for surgery that insurance will pay for but I still hesitate.

It’s only within the last 6 months that I feel good about getting rid of the skin.  I’ve been dying to get rid of it for a long time, but I knew it would change me.  It was important to me that I wait until it wouldn’t.  If I had gotten it done when I was in my first phase, it definitely would have added an additional barrier to my mental and emotional acceptance of my transformation.  I don’t know how that would have changed my final outcome.  If I had gotten my surgery during my second phase, it would have been a huge relief.  Forcing myself to keep the skin through my second phase, taught me even more lessons.

Once the confidence and shock of extreme weight loss wears off, you’re left in almost a mourning for change.  You get addicted to the change.  When you stop changing, people stop noticing.  They stop complimenting.  They stop being shocked.  It’s hard to let that go and find the confidence in yourself.  It’s hard to learn to fill your confidence meter with self love and thoughts instead of depending on others.  This is something I’m still working on.  My therapist (whom I’ve gone to……once……because self care is still something I’m working on) asked me, “Do you ever think you’ll love your body?” and I had to say no. Not how it currently looks.  So then she asked, “Do you ever think you’ll be neutral or ok about your body?” and I could say yes. On the love to hate meter of my body image I’m closer to love than I’ve ever been but I’m still not that far from hate.

I know that I’ll be ready for my surgery in the near future because I can envision being ok with my body how it is currently.  I know that skin surgery wouldn’t change me now.  Until then,  I’m going to work on continuing to fill my confidence bank from within not the outside.

 

Skinny Won’t Solve Anything

Lately I’ve been feeling very far away from my old self.  I’ve been forgetting what it was like to carry so much extra weight on my frame.  I’ve forgotten what it was like to be out of breath after climbing the stairs.  The life I lived as a morbidly obsession person was just that: the life I lived.  It was all I had known.  Now that it’s been several years since hitting my goal weight, it sort of hard to remember.  Who I am now has been reset to my new norm.

My body and my reflection felt strange for a long time.  I always felt 6-9 months behind what I actually looked like.  But now, I expect to see the person looking back at me.  When I see photos of my current self, I’m pleased instead of shocked.  It’s the photos of my old self that I no longer recognize.  That person continues to feel farther and farther away.

As I talk to clients now that are on their journey, I love to discuss their why.  Almost everyone answers with “Because I want to be skinny” or some version this same statement.   Granted, as we get to know one another, I usually find a deeper reason for their “why”.  Parts of me are still figuring out my why, even after all this time.  Most people think that if they just get skinny, everything will be different.  You’ll be confident.  You’ll be beautiful.  You’ll be a better friend and partner.  You’ll become adventurous and everything you’ve ever wanted! The real truth is: getting skinny won’t solve anything.  There’s so much other work to be done.  If you’re a bad friend when you’re unhealthy, you’ll still be a bad friend when you’re thin.  Getting skinny is not a miracle.  What is it really? Buying smaller clothes.

For example, I still run from some of my demons.  Getting thin didn’t disguise me from them.  I’m still not sure why I have this demon or when it found me but: I only want to do things I’m good at and comfortable with.  I know that most people are like this but I think I’m worse than the usual.   I like routine. I enjoy feeling like I’m better at most of the things I do than other people. (WOW.  That sounds really bad) Therefore, it’s hard for me to push outside my comfort zone.   I don’t like learning new things.  I like to be an expert at what I enjoy.

So now that I’m fixed and ‘skinny’, that problem went away right? I’m now super confident 100% of the time and never feel uncomfortable.  Yeah right.  Lately I’ve been getting in to swimming.  I remember liking swimming as a kid and being pretty good at it.  Now, not so much.  I’m pretty terrible at swimming.  I feel like all the others swimmers watch me the whole time and giggle.  (No one is). I feel like I’m splashing half the water out of the pool. (It always seems full when I get out though) I drank or chocked on the other half of the water. (This one is kinda true) I’m pretty uncomfortable the whole time.  BUT.  I’m doing it.  I’m forcing myself out of my comfort zone and doing new things.

While getting skinny didn’t banish that demon, I was able to recognize it more easily during my transition.  While having to try new things to create a new lifestyle, I had to push through that barrier and explore it.  Now, while I’m no more comfortable doing it, I force myself to do new things all the time.  Getting skinny fixes nothing.  Fitting into a new bikini won’t fix it.  Six jean sizes down will make you feel a ton butter but it won’t make you a better friend.  A new little black dress will look great but it won’t fix a marriage.  It’s all so much more.

 

I Love Excuses

This past week, I started ramping up my running milage for my next upcoming race: The Denver Rock and Roll Half Marathon.  This will be my third half marathon on the books.

As I prepare for the race mentally, I’m realizing how freaking lucky I am to be able to run.  For years, like a decade, I told myself I couldn’t run.  In high school, I suffered a full patellar dislocation during a basketball game. (dislocated knee cap) It was quite painful and took a lot of therapy to ‘fix’.  I often wonder if I had been at a proper fitness level while playing school sports, if it would have happened.  Regardless,  I used this as my excuse of why I couldn’t be a runner for a decade.  I also used it when convenient.  If something was too hard, it was obviously my knee issues.  If something was too long, my knee would get swollen for sure……or would it? Let’s be serious: I WAS OVERWEIGHT.  Half of the time it was the knee, half of the time it was me.  As soon as I started strengthening my legs, my knee was never an issue.  Even now when I have knee pain, it’s never from this old injury.

For a decade, I missed out on so many things because of the excuse I gave myself.  As I prepare for my marathon,  I am also fundraising for the first time.  I have joined a team at my gym and have set a goal to raise $1000 in the next month, to donate to Augie’s Quest.  Augie’s Quest is a foundation that is out to Cure ALS. Even though most people associate ALS with “the ice bucket challenge”, very few people know what ALS actually is.

I used to fear something like cancer because it’s the worst thing I can imagine happening.  Now I fear ALS.  Imagine being a runner and then one day you have trouble tying your shoes.  Then next day you trip on a rock you thought for sure you had cleared.  The next month your legs start feeling stiff every morning and you have to develop a new stretching you routine.  Then you notice you can hardly get into the position to stretch.  You’re legs start locking up on you as you run.  Then one day, you trip so bad you’re injured.  After the injury heals you’re disease has now robbed you of the ability to run at all.  And then slowly, you can’t even walk. ALS slowly robs you, day by day, of your motor skills.  Slowly you can’t walk, talk, dress yourself, feed yourself, wash yourself…….day by day. Then eventually, you die, frozen in time and space.  This is my absolutely nightmare.  The worst of it: ALS is cureable if only it had the funding to do so.

We can all help cure ALS.  Can you donate just $5 to help me reach my goal? Can you help me help just one person get the medicine they need to walk a little bit longer? To hug their children? To smile?

give.class.org/kimgalbreath

We never know how lucky we are, until we aren’t.  Help me help them.  If you still aren’t convinced, listen to Anthony’s Story.

 

I AM a Beast!

Well it’s over just like that.  I’ve run my race of the season and it came and went so quickly!  While I sit around in my post race blues, I guess I’ll write you guys a post 🙂

This past weekend, I conquered the Spartan Beast.  I usually run the Tough Mudder as my race of the season, but this year I found it a little disappointing.  Every year I run the Tough Mudder and I feel changed.  It is usually the only race that pushes me to my limits and leaves me feeling accomplished for overcoming my fears in the race and finishing.  This year, it just didn’t feel the same.  The race was held in a new location and the course was much easier.  Everyone I had talked to felt the same way.  So when we crossed the Tough Mudder finish line, I didn’t feel like I’d accomplished my goals for the year.  We raced really well and I completed all the obstacles, but I didn’t feel changed.  I didn’t feel pushed to my limit.  I didn’t learn anything in the race.

So two weeks later, we signed up for the Spartan Beast.  The Beast is a 14+ mile mountain trail run with 35 obstacles.  Most of the obstacles require upper body strength, agility, and practice to complete.  If you fail an obstacle, you’re penalized with 30 burpees.  30.  We had never run the Beast before because we always preferred the Tough Mudder.  I’d always heard it was just as hard, but in a different way.

Start Line: I haven’t been so nervous at a start line in a long time.  I’d never run the course at Breckenridge, but I’d watched the elite team run in on TV the year before and it looked brutal.  I heard them announce that the course was just under 15 miles today.  There always some shouting at the start line about “I AM A SPARTAN” and then it’s time to run.  We made it up the first hill climb fairly easily and I could tell that our trail running training had really helped.

First Miles: In the first miles we covered some obstacles, 7 foot walls, 8 foot walls and a river crossing.  We were both feeling strong and excited for the race.  Near mile 3-4, we picked up an additional team mate.  As you run these races, the people near you tend to hang around.  You turn around and help the same person over obstacles and you find yourself playing leap frog on the course with the same people over and over. Finally, I just asked a girl what her name was because she appeared to be racing alone.  Emily quickly joined with us and kept our pace.  She stuck with us till the end 🙂

Middle Miles: In the middle miles we covered a lot of the heavy carries.  There’s an atlas stone carry, sand bags, and even a bucket carry filled with gravel.  It’s not easy.  The heavy carries leave your legs dead, your heart pumping and your arms weak.  And they happened all together.  I had been worried about my grip strength for weeks leading up to the race, but it seemed to holding up just fine.  Emily kept us going when we needed and we dragged her through the obstacles.

Burpees………crap:  There are two obstacles that I have failed in the past at other lengths of this race.  The spear throw is one chance at throwing a spear into a bale of hay from 15-20 feet away.  1 chance.  1 fail.  30 burpees for Kim.  The very next obstacle was the rope climb, no problems here.  Then came my nemesis: Mount Olympus.  I have always failed this obstacle.  I can never figure it out in time before my strength gives out.  30 burpees for Kim.  The next obstacle was Hurcules Hoist where you pull a sandbag off the ground using a long rope until you hit the bell at the top and then lower the bag back down.  I foolishly tried the mens weight, and my hands just didn’t have the ability to hold on to the rope.  30 more burpees for Kim.  Immediately following that one was the Rings Rig.  It’s a series of rings and pipes and then you hit the bell at the end.  I was so tired at this point that I wasn’t sure I could do it.  If I were fresh, I could no problem.  But I’d just had two failures.  I couldn’t do more burpees but wasn’t sure I had the strength.  I even cut my hand on the obstacle before I began.  I could have skipped it.  I could have just given up, in fact in the middle, I almost did. But I didn’t. And it felt AWESOME.

Final Miles: In the final miles, you feel like you’re about to finish at any moment.  After we passed the Mile 6 marker (not quite half way) we didn’t see another marker for along time.  We missed Mile 7…..Mile 8……by the time we were in Mile 9, I didn’t know we were so far.  I thought we were at 7.5 and I didn’t feel like I had it in me to finish.  There was still so much left. (Or course I was actually almost to mile 10!) I went to my dark place.  I let Dan and our new friend Emily know that I just needed quiet for a while.  We covered the next half mile in mostly silence while I got mad at nature, the course, the racing crew, life in general…….and then we saw the Mile 10 marker.  I was so excited.  I was worried I would fail.  I thought I couldn’t make it the whole way.  I almost thought about quitting.  And then it came, the relief.  When we hit mile 10, I knew I could finish.  I think a mile marker has never made me so happy before.  We completed the obstacles to the end.

When I crossed the Finish Line of the Spartan Beast, I felt changed.  I felt like I’d overcome fears, pushed myself outside my comfort zone, and accomplished something that I never could have done just a few years ago. I felt changed.   I felt strong, like a beast. 🙂

The next day, we raced again.  If you complete all three lengths of the Spartan Race Series in a year, you get special recognition as a Trifecta Finisher.  All of the medals piece together and it’s a pretty nerdy/cool deal to have done all three.  We decided to all but walk though the race the next day.  The Spartan Sprint is advertised at a 3-5 mile race.  I was hoping for 3 since I was pretty destroyed from the day before.  It was 5.6 miles.  This time we raced with friends and had a great time.  We saw them go through the same struggles we had when we started racing together and watched them overcome fears and the struggle to finish.  Running the race with friends was a much different experience but I’m so glad we did both races.

 

This time I only failed two of the obstacles and finished stronger than I thought I would.  I’m not sure how much longer my body will allow me to do these sorts of things but I’m going to while I can.  I had a moment on the second day with a fellow racer that summed up my journey on these races:

As we approached the Bucket Brigade, there are two types of buckets.  Red for Women (60lbs) and Black for Men (80 lbs) .  You fill your bucket up to the holes and then carry it a quarter mile up hill and back down.  As I started filling my BLACK men’s bucket, the volunteers alerted me that I had the wrong one.  I insisted that I did not.  I try to lift the men’s weight on every obstacle for as long as I can. So I filled my men’s bucket and started up the hill.  At one of the rest points, a girl questioned be about my bucket but seemed genuinely curious.

“So what’s with you and the black bucket? The red ones are much easier” she said.

I replied, “There were days I couldn’t lift a 20 pound bucket.  Today I can lift the men’s bucket, so I did.  I’m thankful for my strength today.” Then I picked up my bucket and kept going.

Be thankful for today.  Use your strength today.  Use your power today!  You’re stronger than you think you are and you’re capable of so much more.  How long have you been comfortable? What will it take to get uncomfortable?

The Way to the Start Line

This weekend I will run the race that I’ve trained the most for all summer: The Spartan Beast.  On Saturday, I’ll run nearly 14 miles in the mountains and complete 30 obstacles.  I’ve never crossed a start line without crossing a finish line.  As the days draw closer, I’m realizing how bad I want it and how much is scares me to think I might not finish.

In this world of strange encounters and social media stalking, I’ve met and come across only a few stories like my own.   I’ve always been touched by  Gary Stotler’s journey to health and we continue to communicate and support each other’s journey’s online throughout the past two years. Gary was morbidly obese like myself and went on to lose the weight and complete marathons.  After reaching those goals, he has gone on to be an endurance trail runner.  Last year I watched Gary train for and complete the Silver Rush Leadville 50.  Again this year he trained for an even bigger race: The Leadville 100.  I felt such joy for Gary when he completed his first 100 mile race in March.  Then he just kept training and training.  He looked like he couldn’t have set himself up better for the Leadville 100.  I tracked Gary online throughout the race to see how far he had gone.  On Sunday, while I was up early, I checked to see where he was before I got out of bed.  He had run through the night and should be finishing in a few hours. And I was shocked.  Did Not Finish.  WHAT? What happened? Is he ok? I must have put in the wrong bib number………

Later I found out that due to both mental and physical aspects, Gary had quit at mile 69.  Now, 69 miles is farther than I will ever travel in a race.  69 miles is a jaw dropping amount of miles, even on the street.  I was so proud of how far he had gotten, but I was shocked that he hadn’t finished.  He had always finished.  He seemed to accomplish every goal he set out for but this time, he didn’t cross the finish line.

So this week, I’ve been trying my best to mentally focus for my race.  As I do so, I’ve been asking myself,  “Did I put too many eggs in the basket?”  Meaning, if I fail the race, will it make me feel as though I’ve failed? Will I feel like I’ve wasted the entire race season? Today is the first day I can say, no. Today I realize how freaking lucky I really am.

In preparing for this race, I have had some of the most fun I’ve ever had.  I’ve met some of the best people on the planet. Nothing can change the journey I’ve been on and nothing can take away the memories I’ve created.  The journey has truly been the best part 🙂

I will give everything I’ve got to my race on Saturday, and I just might come up short.  I’ve done everything I could do to prepare and those who know me know I’ll go as hard as I can.  I know I’ll cross that finish line, but now I can truly say, if I don’t, it won’t be the end of my world. My world is full of awesome people!  Thanks to everyone who has helped me train this year, even for one workout.  You all continue to push me, inspire me and make me the athlete that I am.  Love you guys.

There is No Finish Line

I’ve crossed many finish lines in my day, both literal and metaphorical.  But there’s one race that even though I’ve already won it, I’ll never cross the finish line.  I might not ever see it in the distance or even know what that finish line looks like.

I’m talking about health of course.  I will forever chase and have to re-evaluate what healthy means to me.  I now know that food and the balance of life and activity will follow me till the end of time.  Sometimes people ask: What keeps you motivated? How do you keep going?

While there is a definite ebb and flow to motivation (even mine) there has never been a time when I felt “off the health wagon”.  I’ve made poor choices here and there but I’ve never thrown in the towel.  Why? Because it’s only now that I realize what was actually happening to the inside of my body while I was morbidly obese.  Some of you have read on this site in the past that I never thought it was all that bad.  Now that I’m on the other side, IT WAS THAT BAD.  I got winded and tired from walking the dog.  I woke up most mornings with ‘sugar yack’ or ‘carb cloud’ and I thought it was normal.

Definitions ala Kim:
Sugar Yack: That feeling in the back of your throat that causes you to clear it over and over and over because you ate too much sugar the day before.  Or it seems like your saliva it’s self is part sugar?

Carb Cloud: Much like a beer hangover, it causes you to feel sluggish and just can’t quite get going during the day, until you’ve had enough carbs again.  I know you’ve been here!

These used to be daily occurrences to me.  I didn’t realize that most people don’t spend their morning getting over their diet from the day before and breaking through their carb cloud.  I didn’t even realize that I only felt like that BECAUSE of my food intake.  I didn’t even know what I SHOULD feel like. It’s those feelings that keep my food in check.   Some of you laughed out loud or knew exactly what I’m talking about with “sugar yack” and ‘carb cloud’ and I can tell you, it’s not supposed to be like that.  Now I fuel my body to get it to do the things I want it to do.

I stay motivated because whether I like to admit it or not, I was staring an early death in the face.  I wrote last week about choices if you haven’t checked it out, and I guess this week is too.  It’s not one choice.  It’s a million.  Every choice I make either helps me feel proud and motivated or sad and defeated.  I choose proud.  I choose to do things that others can’t because that’s who I want to be.  That’s what I want for myself.  I know I won’t always look like this.  I know I won’t always be able to deadlift over 200 pounds.  I know I won’t have biceps forever and if we ever have a kid, things are likely to drastically change.  However, this is who I am today, and I’m pretty proud of her and I know she will never go back to where we used to be.  When you’ve been there, you know.  You know there is nothing that would make you want to go backwards.  I honestly don’t worry that I’ll ever be over 200 pounds again.  The difference I feel now makes that ghost scarier than any horror movie I’ve ever seen.

 

 

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A million tiny choices

When people in my new career hear my weight loss story, the first question is almost always “How did you do it?” Depending on the audience, I tend to tailor my response to what they are expecting to hear or maybe what they need to hear.  Lately, I’ve been playing a lot with the idea of choices.  The truth is, it was a million tiny little choices that brought me to my life now.

My hubby first started sparked the idea in me.  Recently he’s been ordering new things at restaurants we go to all the time.  The other day he waited patiently for someone to turn instead of cutting someone off and then the whole lane opened up.  He waits patiently for a older lady to cross the street and the parking space we need opens up. He says “Change your choice. Change the outcome. Let’s see what happens.”  Lately, both of us have been rewarded for small choices that change our course.

When it came to losing weight, it didn’t wake up one morning and decide “Today is THE day!” I didn’t start officially on any single day.  It was 100 choices over three weeks and then I noticed my pants are a little too big.  Then I decided to keep making those choices and add more to see how I could change my outcome.  And 1-2 MILLION choices later, here I am.

It’s making the same choices day in and day out to focus on your health.  It’s choosing health over whatever else may come. Example: My friend recently joked about me being the energizer bunny.  Trust me people, I’m just as tired as the next person. I also want to sleep in late and skip the gym.  I also want to eat stacks of pancakes instead of hard boiled eggs. I just make it a priority and hold myself accountable.  I don’t let myself get away with excuses.  Excuses lead to me being 300 pounds.

 

It’s making new choices, risky choices that might be uncomfortable. For example: I’m about to run the Tough Mudder for the third year in a row.  The first time I went, I ran it with strangers and didn’t even really know what I was getting myself in to.  Instead of backing out, I chose to be uncomfortable and I’ve been running that race ever since.  It’s the best race I run all year.  Another example, recently chose to share my story with someone at the gym and now they are turning into a weekly client, which could blossom into years of revenue.

 

But it’s also about forgiveness. You’re not going to make the right or best choice all the time.  And you have to learn to forgive yourself.  I still eat crap sometimes!  I skip a workouts! (really, I swear!) I scream at the car in front of me instead of waiting patiently.  But I try not to dwell on those choices.  I try my best to forgive myself and move on.  You can’t change the past because it’s in the past.  What’s the point of being sad or mad about it? Let. It. Go.  Make better choices today.  Be awesome TODAY. 

No one chooses how you feel.  No one is going to make the choice for you.  No one will be there when you have to hold yourself accountable.  You could work with a whole team of fitness experts (I know a great one if you need a card…..) but in the end, you choose what happens. Trust me.  If I could make the choice for everyone, we would all be happy and healthy and running a mountain somewhere.  We would all feel what losing 160 pounds feels like and you wouldn’t be here reading this blog. I can’t make that choice.  But you can.  What choices will you make today?

I’m a Dirty Girl!

So word is apparently getting around that I like to lift heavy things, climb like a monkey and run in the mountains, preferably while covered in dirt. Two or three weeks ago my friend/colleague/trainer Matt asked me if I would fill in a place for someone who had dropped out for a Mud Run.  Matt is my weightlifting coach at the gym where I work (still weird to say….) and lets me come to his class and disrupt the men in their routine by adding sass and slowing everyone down. 🙂 He’s also the size of a refrigerator. So when he pulled a pink tutu out of his bag, I could hardly contain my excitement.  Matt’s girlfriend, Sarah, had someone drop out of her team for the upcoming Dirty Girl Mud Run.  The tutu and matching princess socks were the required costume.  He was willing to take over my shift so I could go run in the mountains covered in dirt.  What a guy!

So of course I agreed to the race without even considering it much of a question.  I signed up; put on my tutu and met up with the girls.  I was running the race with Sarah and Krista, each of us in our required tutu.  I felt like I knew Sarah through Matt but I was meeting Krista for the first time.  The last time I agree to a race without looking it up and ran with strangers, (Tough Mudder 2015) it was the most fun I’d ever had on a race.  So I figured it was worth the risk. AND WE HAD A BLAST.

The Dirty Girl Mud Run is a 5K course in Copper Mountain with 10-12 obstacles.  It was attainable for all levels and a great race for newbies.  This was Sarah and Krista’s first obstacle race and I knew that I was agreeing to go their pace and be a supportive team member.  To be a total cocky jerk, the race was really simple for me.  I tried to focus on being patient, encouraging my teammates and having fun with racing.  Check check and check.  It was a great day.

I almost got emotional a few times on the course.  I’d never run an all female race before.  Also, I’d never done one with so many of my ghosts along the path.  Again, to be a total jerk: Most races that I run now, I NEVER would have been able to do before.  I rarely see someone the size that I used to be in a race and never anyone bigger than that.  Most races I run, my old self wouldn’t have even knew existed. This race is attainable for everyone so I saw so many versions of myself along the course.   I remember one girl in particular.  We were coming up to a climbing rig with: a cargo net climb to the top, horizontal traverse across a cargo net and then slide down a fireman’s pole; then crawl through the bubble pit to the other side.   The whole thing was maybe 12-15 feet up in the air.  Ahead of me I saw someone who was larger than my past self just giving everything she had to get to the top.  But down below I saw my old self.  She was standing to the side and wasn’t even going to try.  Both my teammate Sarah and I tried to encourage her to try and offered to help her.  It was clear she was just going to watch.

I wanted to encourage her more and fill her with a sense of inspiration and rigor to give it a go, but she was so defeated before she began.  I saw myself in her eyes.  I knew she would never try; no matter what I said.  I watched so many women that day accomplish something they never thought they could.  One woman was frozen at the top of a long slide and my team spent a long time trying to encourage her.  Eventually she told us to go.  She had the biggest smile on her face when we found her at the finish line to tell us that she had done it!  But to the girl at the cargo net, she wouldn’t know.  She wouldn’t know what that was like.  I don’t know that woman.  Maybe just walking the course was her goal that day.  Maybe that brought her more joy than the obstacle would have anyway.  But I saw it in her eyes.

Defeat. Not defeat from fear of the height or the obstacle.  But defeat from even trying.  I’d been in that place so many times.  Here’s what I think she was going through her head:

I’m to heavy for that.  Will the obstacle even hold me? I’m not supposed to do those things.  What if I fail in front of everyone? I know I can’t do it.

These phrases kept me from even trying to lose weight so many times.  “I know I can’t do it.  I’ve tried already. What if I fail?” Fear of failure is something I deal with everyday of my life.  Its something that I struggle with in everything I do.  But I keep trying.  I keep failing and trying to be ok with it.  I’m trying to be ok with not being able to do EVERYTHING.  But it’s hard.  My fear of failure made me miss out on so many things in life.  I’m not letting it rob me anymore.  I almost missed out on the most beautiful Saturday on Copper Mountain with the most beautiful of ladies! 🙂