The Big One On The End (or, why I quit working out the last time)

A few years ago I was doing really well with working out and eating right. I had even created a fitness blog and Facebook page, and people were actually reading what I wrote! I was enjoying it SO MUCH and while sometimes it was really hard, it felt so good to finally be taking care of myself the way I deserved. I was at my lowest weight in about 8 years, I had tons of energy, and life was good.

So why did I quit?

Two words: This Photo.

Just a regular photo of me with two of my sweet friends at a party, right?

NO.

I was sporting a new dress that I'd coveted for weeks. I'd go to the shop every week and try this dress on. I refused to buy it and bring it home with the hopes that I'd shrink into it. It was important to me to actually GO into the store and try it on every week, hoping this would be the time it fit. When it finally did fit I was SO HAPPY. This party was the second time I'd worn it. My hair was halfway cooperative for once, my shoes were tall & sexy, I had the perfect fake tan going on, and best of all my hubby was proud of me. I'd been working out and eating right for so long and it felt great to have actual confidence for the first time in years.

Then someone posted that photo on Facebook.

As usual, as I have been in countless photos for years, I was The Big One On The End.

You guys, I just sat there and stared at that photo. Utterly dejected. How can I still be The Big One when I fit into this dress?! Why am I still The Big One when I've been busting my butt and eating right and working SO HARD?! OMG I am super fat, squeezed into that dumb dress; what was I thinking?!

So then,  I just totally gave up.

Three years later, this photo is still on Facebook, and my comment is still visible: "I think I'll just cut my arms off instead of trying to reduce their size. I give up. But you guys look adorable!!"

That one photo threw me into a spiral of self-loathing. I had worked so hard and it still wasn't good enough. I was still The Big One. I'll always be The Big One. Why bother working out every day? Why bother eating boring, healthy food? Why work so hard if you're still going to be the The Big One?! If I have to be fatter than everyone else no matter what I do, I could just be living off chips and McDonalds and enjoying myself!

Nevermind that this is what my upper body looked like at the time:

Nevermind that most girls seem to have to try really hard to build muscle but I always just HAVE it, hiding underneath layers of fat.

Nevermind that I was lifting at my personal all-time best and was finally doing crazy cardio without feeling like I was going to die.

Nevermind that, yeah, OK, I just happened to be on the end, and that I was closest to the camera and turned at a bad angle and happened to be with two slim ladies, so there were four strikes against me.

I let that one stupid photo destroy everything I had worked so hard for.

Maybe I wanted a way out? Maybe I was focusing on the areas of my body not shown in the above photo and was secretly bummed that all of me wasn't yet ready for an 'after photo,' so I just wanted to throw in the towel? Maybe I was being too strict with my diet and really missing Cheetos and rum and just couldn't take it anymore?

All I remember is staring at that photo and thinking, dude ....... I have been working soooo hard, obsessing, packing my food every day because I have to eat every few hours, declining social invitations because I'm embarrassed to bring my own food, making my family miserable because they have to eat boring dinners every night ........ for nothing. I'm still fat. I'm still bigger than everyone else. The hair and the dress and shoes and tan don't matter, you are still the Fat Friend and you always will be.

Looking back, I'm super bummed I let myself feel that way. I'm really disappointed that I gave up. Because shortly after that, I experienced two major setbacks that would completely destroy any smidge of motivation I had left.

1. My knee blew out. And almost immediately afterward,
2. My dad died.

Taking good care of myself could have helped me through those trials. But instead, I'd given up. And now I actually had some good excuses to be lazy and eat junk food and drink every night. So that's what I did. Over the next few years I slowly reached my all time highest weight, nearly 200 pounds. In a fit of self pity one night I deleted my blog (which I greatly regret) and got off Facebook. I didn't want any reminders of all the effort I threw away.

Then recently I lost 20 pounds and was feeling motivated to eat clean again. I got used to not overeating and drinking every night and was feeling really good until, yet again, after a family vacation, I saw a photo of myself and thought WHAT?! All that work and deprivation and THIS is what I look like?!

I cropped out my family so their adorableness wouldn't distract you from what we are supposed to be focusing on here.

Thankfully I have learned my lesson and am not going to go to that bad place again. So, yeah, this photo bums me out, but I also don't even care. If I'm being completely honest, I would like to lose about 30 more pounds, but you know what? I would rather just clean up my diet, get back to the gym and hit those weights, and watch what happens. I've done it before and I can do it again. I'll always weigh more than I look like I do. What now matters to me is being my healthiest self. Who cares if I'm the Biggest One in the photo? Sometimes the biggest girl is the strongest, happiest, and healthiest.

I have learned a few things over the past few years.

• I probably will always be the Big One. But that's OK. I simply don't have a skinny build. If being the Big One means that I can rock it in the gym and lift heavy things, I'm good with that. I have no desire to be a cardio bunny and starve myself into a body that isn't even possible for me.
• I 100% embrace the build I was given. It comes from my sweet dad, whom I miss so much. I'd give anything to have him back; to look at his giant calves and strong arms one more time; to squeeze his sturdy torso and say "thank you for this powerful body I inherited from you. Because of you I can move furniture without help, and be a good helper to my husband when he needs a second person to load or carry things, and I can still pick up my boys with gusto even though they are almost 11 and 8."
• It doesn't matter what size everyone else is. I deserve to be healthy and if "my healthy" is bigger than everyone else's, so be it.
• I know that I can commit to a workout program, get my butt into the gym, lift heavier every week, eat right, and drop weight quickly. I've done it four times now. So who cares if I *look* fat in a photo? From now on if I feel that way I will just strip and flex in the mirror. ;) And if I don't like what I see, that's OK, because I have the power to change it. NO GIVING UP.
• The number on the scale or on the tag in the clothes doesn't matter. What matters is if I feel pretty dang good most days, instead of lethargic and bloated. What matters is if I have energy to actually play with my kids and model healthy behavior & habits so they never have to deal with the stupid crap I struggle with.

I've done it before. And I will do it again. And this time, I am determined that it is going to be a way of life, something I can maintain. Not a phase that will make myself and everyone around me crazy. And certainly not something that a stupid unflattering photo can change.