Skin

I've seen tons of people on various Facebook groups I lurk on, as well as Instagram feeds, blogs, etc, say one of the reasons they're scared to lose weight is because of extra skin.

Well, kids, I'm living it.  So let's talk.

As of today, I'm down 161.6 lbs from my heaviest weight.  I weighed 201.4 lbs this morning.  I'm getting to the point where I like the way my body looks in clothes.  My shoulders are looking really nice.  My ass is bangin.  I wear leggings as pants because I want to catch glimpses of my own booty in mirrors and windows.  It's that good.

But.

BUT.

Nakey...yowza.  My body pretty much looks like a melted ice cream cone.  My belly and boobs have deflated like a week-old circus balloon animal.  Even my thighs and upper arms have some extra skin.  Nobody tells you when you start losing weight...things don't shrink, they deflate.  If I bend over and flex my abs, it looks like I have an extra set of jugs from how much belly skin is there.  I'm not even joking...my husband and I laughed about it for like an hour the other day.  This isn't a slam on myself, it's a straight up fact, and I like to lighten it with humor in an effort to be less ashamed of it.  Extra skin is a fact of weight loss life.  But it's not pretty.

Buffalo Bill would love me right now.  Is that joke not funny?

Am I prepared to show you a photo of my extra skin?  No.
Will I ever be prepared to show you a photo of my extra skin?  Probably no.
If you ask me nicely in person, will I show you?  No, in fact I'll probably cut you.

If you really want to see extra skin that bad, just do a google search.  I guarantee one of the thousands of images looks similar to me.

But anyway...

Imagine that you (literally) work your ass off for weeks, months, years, to get healthy and feel beautiful or get stronger or get off meds or whatever your personal motivations are to lose weight.  And your body can do some amazing stuff that it couldn't do before.  It looks better in clothes than ever before.  It's stronger than it's ever been before.  But that extra skin is still lurking there and reminding you of your former self, the damage you did to your body, and how worthless and unattractive you used to feel.  Nothing will make you feel less sexy and pretty and successful in your efforts than people commenting on it.

I've been asked, repeatedly, by well-meaning friends, if I will ever have skin removal surgery.  At this point, I don't really have enough to necessitate a surgical procedure.  Plus, the extremely few people who see me nakey either don't care and love me anyways and can laugh about it with me (the huzzband) and/or can go fuck themselves if they don't like what they see (random locker room people, I guess?).  Also...I don't have $20,000 extra dollars to spend on an elective surgery, soooooo...I'll reconsider if it ever causes me health problems.

I'm trying to use my saggy belly and newly unfortunate breasts and elephant skin wrinkly legs as motivation and a reminder of how far I've come.  I'm trying to see it as evidence of my accomplishments.  I'm trying to see it as beautiful, but this is one of the biggest mental hurdles I've had to face/cross/jump over/whatever during this process.  It's a challenge and it may never happen.

But.

BUT.

I did a 5k in May.  Yes, I walked like 85% of it.  But two years ago, there is no friggin way I could have even walked a mile without wanting to die, let alone a 5k.

I hiked an average of 25-40 miles a week with friends this summer.  Could or would I ever have done this before?  I would have wanted to, but there's no way I could have.

I discovered a love for yoga.  I never would have even tried a class before, because I was too embarrassed about my body and lack of flexibility.  I hate to sound cliche, but this has put me in tune with my body and what it wants and needs better than anything else I've ever done.  It's taught me to breathe through pain (mental and physical) and that I can tough out uncomfortable things, and the end result is worth the discomfort and work.  It has taught me to take up the space I need and to be present in my body and mind.  Holy crap, am I grateful for yoga.

I PRed an assload of lifts this year.  Are my numbers impressive?  Hahahaha no.  Does it matter?  No, because I lifted heavier shit than I ever have before.  And I can lift way more now than I could when I was heavier (which is counter intuitive to me, but whatevs).

I can shop for clothes in almost any store I want to.  It's hard to get used to this.  I'm used to purchasing whatever garments I can find in my size regardless of whether I liked them or whether they were comfortable or flattering, because my options have been so limited in the past.

Ok, so my body looks weird naked.  Yes, I still feel a lot of body shame and frankly, I feel way sexier with my clothes on than off.  But would I go back to being 363 lbs, not able to do most of the things I want to do, not able to fit in an airplane seat without a seatbelt extender and a prayer, only able to order ugly old ladyish clothes online, get short of breath walking up a flight of stairs, not be able to give my dog the exercise he needs, not be able to hike and see beautiful places, not be able to feel comfortable doing yoga, have to take blood pressure medications, not be brave enough to tell street harassers to fuck off, and be sad?

Would I have spent my entire life being thin, and thus not had to worry about extra skin at all?  Perhaps.  But I know how strong I am because I've had to work for every pound off my body and on the bar.  Every extra rep, every extra second in an uncomfortable yoga asana, every extra jogged step...I know that every single choice I make every single day has the power to bring me closer to or further from my goals.  I feel like others who may have had easier lives physically or been appreciated aesthetically or been considered conventionally attractive for their entire lives don't necessarily appreciate what they have and how easy they have it in some ways.

So what's the moral of the story?

THE EXTRA SKIN IS WORTH IT.

Choices

I actually hate this stock photo.  But I'll get to that in a second...

Choice is a beautiful, terrifying thing.  I'm able to say that it's terrifying because it's something I, as a white, straight, cisgender, American, educated woman, am able to take for granted.  A LOT.  Not to get political on you, but holy shit, I have some serious privilege and associated guilt.  Given the state of the world, I guess I'd rather have the guilt than not have the privilege, and it's crap to have to think that way.

Moving on...

Some of the choices we have to make are easy.  Do I go to work today or stay in my sweatpants watching Netflix?  Well, unless you are ill or have agoraphobia, you will probably make the decision to go to work.  Unless you don't like gainful employment, of course (no judgement).

Some are more difficult.  Where will I go to college?  What do I want to be when I "grow up?"  Do I want children?  If so, how many?  Who will I vote for (this may be easy or difficult depending on who's running)?

Some choices should be easy, but can challenge us (me) sometimes (a lot).

Will I eat this candy or won't I?
Will I work out today, or will I stay in my sweatpants watching Netflix (I like Netflix, ok?)?
Will I have all of the garlic naan ever made when I go out to dinner with my BFF?
Will I have a glass of water, or will I have a third latte?

The struggle is real, y'all.

There is a reason I get annoyed (somewhat secretly, but I'm not THAT good at hiding it) when people say they "slipped up" on their healthy eating and exercise is because it's not a slip up.  It's not an accident.  Nobody hog-tied you and forced you to eat Doritos all day (I hope).  You didn't lose your footing and fall mouth first into a pan of brownies.  The gym didn't secretly pack up and move to a different part of town without telling you.

It's not a slip up.  It's not a mistake.  It's a choice.  You may not even realize it.

I recently read an article (and no, I won't cite it, because I can't even remember where/when exactly I saw it) that said "discipline is prioritizing what you want most of all over what you want right now."  Truer words have never been spoken.  It doesn't just apply to health and fitness, it applies to everything we do.

I couldn't find the original quote, but this is close enough.  You get the idea.  Also, don't tell me what to do, Silhouette Person.  You don't know my life!

I've written about priorities before.  I'll probably write about priorities again, because it's something I constantly have to remind myself of.  I have several priorities in my life that are constantly competing for the top position.  Work, school, my marriage, my friends, my family, Taco, home maintenance, my health.

For the first time in a long time, my health usually wins the top spot.  Sometimes it doesn't. Sometimes, for example, I wake up at 5am absolutely frickin exhausted.  The night before, school was my priority and I stayed up studying until midnight.  Today, as much as I would like for my personal health to be the priority and go back to bed to rest, work needs to win because I'm scheduled to be in at 6 and SURPRISE, adulthood is no fun sometimes!

Today, I probably should have worked out, but I prioritized my friends and social relationships and went out to lunch instead.

Do I feel badly about it?  Meh, tomorrow's a new day, the gym will still be there.  And it's a choice I made.  Consciously.  Deliberately.  They did not kidnap me and take me to Basil Cafe (although truthfully, I would LOVE that).  There's no excuse, there's just what happened.  The choice I made.  And it was worth it.

I also don't like to think of it as "good choices" and "bad choices."  Maybe "better choices" and "not as great" choices?  I don't know how to phrase it.  But I feel like calling it a bad choice shames us for what we do.  And I am not hopping on that train.  Are our less than spectacular choices what define us?  NO.  So why do we shame ourselves for them?

You can choose to spend your time excusing your "slip ups" or "cheating" or "mistakes" on your fitness journey.  But I can almost guarantee, you will begin to feel badly about them.

What I've chosen to do is to own my choices, without apologies or excuses.  For me, this is the best (only) way to forward movement, progress, and growth.  It gives me the freedom to do what I want with the pride I feel whenever I make a choice that improves my life.

Let's talk about how awesome we are

I don't mean to toot my own horn, but I'm pretty damn awesome.

I'm feeling so dang good lately, if I wasn't me, I'd want to BE me.  I feel like I'm covered in a thin layer of glitter and unicorn farts (which, btw, smell like carrot cake I think) and I want to stand on top of a tall building with a megaphone shouting compliments to everyone so they feel as good as I feel.


That sort of thing is probably frowned upon.  Also, I don't own a megaphone and the tallest building in my city (where I work, incidentally) is a whopping 10 stories.  And there is no roof access unless you work for maintenance and wear a harness.

I was thinking...what is it that's making me feel so awesome?  Good choices!  Taking care of myself (physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually).  Doing things that make me happy!

What awesome decisions have you made for yourself today?  This week?  This month?  I hope you can think of at least 10 nice things you've done for yourself this month and/or 10 amazing, wonderful things about your fabulous, bad-ass self.  Actually, I hope you can think of a lot more than that...but if you can't think of at least 10, you let me know, because we need to talk.  Every time you treat yourself with respect and love, it's a tiny victory.  Every time I make the choice to treat myself well, I picture this little turtle cheering me on:

Hooray!  Good choices!  Eeeeeeeee!

Thanks, little turtle!

Anyway, the awesomeness has little to do with weight loss at this point (though don't get me wrong, I still love that "side effect" of my nutrition and exercise plan and hope it continues for awhile).  It's about doing things that make me happy, and how those things have changed over the past year to include a lot of healthy, active things. 

I sometimes worry that people will misinterpret my newfound self-respect and happiness with arrogance and fat-shaming.  Please, please, please, don't misinterpret it, because being arrogant and shaming people are two of the last things I would ever want to do.  I've learned over the past several months that interpretation can cause serious problems and that the way a message is received is often more important than the way it's intended. 

But also...I AM AWESOME AND I WANT TO SHOUT IT FROM THE TOP OF THE JOHNSON BANK BUILDING.

And more importantly...YOU are awesome and it's high time you knew it.  If you already knew, kudos to you for realizing your amazingness.  If you didn't know, well...welcome to the amazeballs club.  It's pretty exclusive and I'm 100% sure you deserve to be a member.  The only membership requirements are to take care of yourself (whatever that means to you!) and recognize your fabulousness.  Your club t-shirt is in the mail.