Weight Loss and Becoming A Runner

Running, exercising and fitness, are (obviously) a HUGE part of my life.  Any given day, I spend one and a half to two hours working out.

At this point, I’ve run eight marathons, including the Boston Marathon (for which I’ve qualified three times), two ultramarathons, and sixteen half marathons. I’ve even done a full-distance Ironman triathlon, Ironman Texas 2018!

You see that picture?  It was the proudest moment of my life.  Ever.  Yes, I was crying.  I was bawling, actually.  As I ran down that finish chute, 15 and a half hours after I started, I couldn’t help but think about the person I had been nine years earlier and was overcome with emotion as I thought about the person I had become.

About a decade ago, I was borderline obese and depressed.  I couldn’t walk up the stairs to our bedroom without being winded at the top. 

I couldn’t run a mile – I could barely walk a mile.

I had been skinny through high school, and like everyone else, I gained a few pounds in college but not anything to be worried about.  Before my wedding, I crash dieted to fit into a wedding dress that was accidentally ordered a size too small.  Once the wedding was over I let myself go.

I gained 45 pounds in two years. 

I was a size 14, shoving myself into size 12 jeans.  I had a nearly 40″ waist.

Then one December morning that all changed.  December 1, 2009, was one of the most important days of my life and I didn’t even know it.

At the time, I was borderline obese and depressed.  I couldn’t walk up the stairs to our bedroom without being winded at the top.

That morning I was sitting at my kitchen table surfing the internet.  I had just polished off a giant stack of pancakes, some eggs, toast with jelly, coffee, and orange juice.  As I sat there I could feel the rolls of my stomach touching each other.

I remember it like it was yesterday.  I felt broken and desperate.

I cried, not figurative tears, real tears.  I had tried losing weight several times, unsuccessfully.  I did Weight Watchers with some friends.  I joined a gym and tried working out.  None of it worked.  I lost weight in the short term but immediately gained it back plus some.  I couldn’t stick with anything for longer than a few weeks.  After three years of trying to lose weight, I felt like I was stuck in a body in which I didn’t belong.

I’m a smart girl, I knew that losing weight meant changing my entire lifestyle, but it was so hard and I didn’t want to work hard.

But something happened that morning while sitting at the kitchen table.  I had what was the most important epiphany of my life, I realized that the only person I was hurting by being overweight was myself.

I asked myself, “Why are you doing this? Why are you letting yourself get away with this?  Why don’t you stop being so WEAK and do something about it?”

That very second I got up from the table, got my camera with the tripod, and set it up in our bedroom.  I put on my swimsuit, took some pictures, weighed myself, took all my measurements, and wrote it in a blog post, hoping that the accountability of the world would motivate me to follow through.  I tried to smile for the picture – but inside, I was desperate. 

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I did some research and found out exactly how much weight was safe to lose in a week (1-2 pounds), and how many calories I could eat to meet that goal (1,500).  I stuck to it.

Y’all, the first few weeks were hard.  They were so hard.

I knew nothing about nutrition.  Nothing.  Zero.  It was one big game of trial and error.  I started by shaving off the little calories I didn’t need, like the jelly on my toast (50 calories) and the sugar in my coffee (60 calories x 2 cups).  I quit putting syrup on my pancakes (200 calories).

Later, I gave up the toast and the pancakes altogether.  I quit drinking juice.  I gave up bagels.  I gave up donuts.  I gave up anything that didn’t stay in my stomach for very long.  I learned that if I ate eggs for breakfast, I would still be full at lunch and all I would need was a handful of almonds to get me through until dinner.  I learned to eat something small before we went out to eat and order a broth-based soup instead of a hamburger.  I learned a lot about nutrition.

By process of elimination, I unintentionally cut out all the extra sugar in my diet and many of the processed carbs I’d been eating. If it didn’t keep me full it wasn’t worth the calories.

By Christmas, just three weeks later, I’d lost 9 pounds.  I knew I needed to add exercise for any weight loss to really stick but I had no idea where to start.  My previous attempts at being a gym rat failed miserably because I hated the gym.

When I was there, I was overwhelmed.  I didn’t know what I was doing.  I felt out of place.  But I tried it again, anyway.

Unsurprisingly, my disdain for that little cinder block building didn’t go away because I was on a diet.  I hated the smell.  I hated the machines.  I hated myself when I was there.

Why did I let this happen?  How did it get so out of control?  I needed something I didn’t hate.  I needed something that made me feel happy and alive, not depressed and sad.

One day, sometime around the New Year, when it was time to make the dreaded trip to the gym I did something that changed my life.  I put on my running shoes instead. I went outside, and I slogged through a three-mile loop. 

I walked a lot, ran a little and cursed myself the entire time.  It HURT.  My lungs burned.  I didn’t love it…but I didn’t hate it either.  A couple of days later I did it again.  That April, just four months later, I ran my first half marathon.

To this day, that first half marathon is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.  But when I finished, I had never been more proud of myself.

I was hooked.

All in, it took nine months to lose 45 pounds.  The diet change and learning about nutrition helped me lose the weight but running… y’all, running saved me.

I found something that I truly loved, something that brought me joy that I could dedicate myself to every day.  If you want to know why I talk about running so much, why it is such a huge part of my life – that’s why.

It saved my life; it’s a strong statement but it’s true.

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I spent the better part of the last nine years trying to forget that me – I even deleted my fat pictures off Facebook.  Most of the people in my life now didn’t know me then and don’t know this me ever existed.  It was a dark time that I don’t talk about much.

Recently though, I’ve met several people who are in a similar situation to mine.  Talking with them forced me to think about how my experience impacted my life.

I’ve realized that I wouldn’t be the person I am today if I had always been thin.  I wouldn’t be as motivated.  I wouldn’t be as dedicated.  I wouldn’t be as strong.  I wouldn’t be as successful.  It fundamentally changed me.  They encouraged me to share my story.

Now, most days, I run because I found a hobby I love.  But on the days when I didn’t sleep well, or when I’m sore or when I would rather sit on the couch and drink a beer but I go running anyway, it’s because of this.

You see that??  THAT’S a real smile.

I don’t think about that picture much anymore, but every December 1st I do – not because I want to but because I can’t help it.  It was that important.

Today, I’m sharing my story with the hope that it will help one person who feels trapped by their choices find the motivation to make a change.

Just because you’re unhappy with who you are today, doesn’t mean you have to accept it.

Start small.  Educate yourself. Pay attention to what you’re putting in your body.  Go outside.  Take the dog for a walk.  Ride a bike.  Go for a jog.  Find an activity you like or at least can tolerate. 

Surround yourself with people who share your desired lifestyle.  Stop feeling sorry for yourself and do something about it. 

Make the decision to try.  Sometimes, that’s the hardest part.

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