I got scolded for calling myself fat…. 😳
When I say fat, I’m calling myself the good kind of fat. Meaning, yes, I am heavier set that what is considered socially acceptable or magazine quality. But I say fat with a laugh because I am happy. Because my fat has come at countless hours spent in the gym training. Days spent at getting stronger and not caring what the weight scale says. Because I can get eat my food without fear of what my reflection in the mirror will say. My body is a powerhouse of strength and mental toughness. Because I stopped caring about how others perceive my body. Because I stopped comparing myself to rail thin magazine models.
Last week, a friend post on social media the link to a blog, that a fitness model wrote. An absolutely outstanding piece and I highly suggest others give it a read.
Reading this woman’s blog was almost like reading words written by a younger version of myself. I would avoid the mirror just to avoid the disappointment I felt in my lack of appearing like a perfectly airbrushed cover model. My extra skin under my chin,despite how under weight I was. The extra pooch of god-knows-what under my waist from having a baby when I was 24….aka the “mom belly.” The never tightening under arm area also known as triceps despite all the bizallion magazine articles on how to tighten that stubborn area. Or the cellulite on the back of my legs no matter how much I ran or how many salads I ate….
Back then I would have told you my body image was fine. That I didn’t hold myself to unrealistic standards of cover models….but I did. I would frown or groan while looking at a Victoria’s Secret magazine or their webpage, groan because I knew none of the articles would actually look like the displayed images.
Even with being in Crossfit, the concept of eat to grow didn’t full take affect on me. I remember I use to think I was eating so much food!! How I’d have what I thought was a large breakfast, a big lunch and how I would cook something once I got home for the day. There was no planning my day around what time I needed to eat to be ready for the gym versus what my work day has planned. Do I have appointments, maybe I should eat earlier… There was none of that. Just a basic three meals a day. Which I guess is better than when I was in the Army. Then, I was good if I ate once or twice a day. I remember several times, my then husband would ask if I had eaten at all. Several times, I couldn’t remember the last time I ate…yes, I was literally that girl, the girl who forgot to eat!
Rabbit food is a waste of perfectly good stomach space
Now… I couldn’t tell you the last time I ate a salad. Or stepped on a weight scale besides weighing in for a competition. The last time I was worried about how much I ate or if I did enough cardio to balance how much I had eaten that day.
At one point, post divorce I weighed as little as 156…one hundred fifty-six pounds!! I ran three or four miles usually four times a week, drank way too many 20oz Cokes while working and ate once a day. My breakfast would consist of coffee and dinner was usually whatever I didn’t finish from lunch.
Now. I weigh between 190 and 195, again I’m not exactly sure because I have not stepped on a scale since my last competition December 5th. Yes, I still have my coffee first thing in the morning, but it usually has a scope of protein powder in it (right now it’s Muscle Pharm’s Cookie n’ Creme). I still struggle to eat solid foods within the first hour I am awake, so I usually make 2 scrambled egg sandwiches to go. Taking two lunches with me, ya never know if one is enough; the majority of the time the second one ends up as dinner after the gym. However before the gym is usually oatmeal -which I discovered an awesome oats & chia at Costco last weekend!! No need to add any kind of sweetener, it’s awesome all on it’s own.
There is roughly five years between these two pictures. The right, when I was in Crossfit and average weight 165-170 pounds. The left, at Michigan’s Strongest competition and weighing 195 pounds.
The thing is. Like so many other women involved in strength sports. I fell in love with the heavy lifting. I realized if I didn’t eat, my lifts would never get stronger. My work pant size has gone up 2-3 sizes depending on the brand/style. Some I wear a 14 others a 16; when I use to wear a baggy 10. My shirts, oh forget anything button down; might as well start singing fat kid in a little coat I’ve learned to adjust my wardrobe, both for work and on my personal time -I fell in love with leggings two years ago and never looked back, lol. Which anyone who has known me a hot minute or two, knows leggings was something I swore I would never wear.
As a woman, gaining weight is never easy, it’s not easy to accept it no matter how good others tell you, you look. It’s still hard. In truth, the fat kid reference came as my personal humor and way of dealing with the disappearance of my abs and the steadily growing numbers on the scale and increasing pant sizes (the scale was easier to deal with than the pant sizes). Then one day, the humor turned into a badge. I realized and embraced that I was no longer expecting myself to fit into some asinine ridiculous idea of what a woman should look like….
fuck your thigh gap
-Inked Amazon Warrior