When I was 14 I took a grade 9 gym class which I simultaneously loved and found humiliating. Part of me thought I had a lot of athletic potential. The problem was I was overweight. I was also coming from a small elementary school and didn’t play rep like my classmates. It stressed me that I had no objective way of knowing how this would play out. One of the things that we were graded on was fitness level, including weight. We had a little gym to work out in and at the end of the year I guess the teacher decided if we gained or lost enough weight. Have you tried? Have you been using the gym? My starting and ending weight were exactly the same. Exactly. 156.5 lbs. The teacher laughed in surprise and I cried. I was fucking pissed. I had been working out, I had felt better, but I was the same damn weight.
This has happened a few times in my life. My highest weight was 270 lbs when I was pregnant with my first, staying at 247 lbs for 2 years until I got pregnant with my son. Until I weaned in August I was on a 8 month streak at 202 lbs. I gained 5 lbs almost immediately, being able to eat dairy again can do that. Now I am back at dieting with the goal of 168 lbs by my half marathon in May. I have no idea if I will make it since I love food and my weight loves stalling. The one thing that keeps me sane is that in July a personal trainer said I have potential to be a strength athlete. Maybe I am not meant to be thin. Maybe I am meant to be strong and solid. I’m okay with that. I know I let my weight go up but I had other priorities at the time. Sometimes I regret it but I really believe that I’m doing my best. Sometimes people get busy, or depressed, or just want to eat french fries. I’m working on being happy again, that includes not beating myself up. So instead of saying I’m overweight and I failed, I’m saying I’m at my fighting weight. I’m ready to go. I’m ready to work out. Let’s do this!