I'M OVERWEIGHT!

 I'M OVERWEIGHT!


 That's right, OVERWEIGHT.  I never thought I would be happy to be overweight.  Actually, I have spent years of my life in the past, dogging myself and over-critiquing my body, thinking I was "overweight" when in actuality, I was not. 

Before we get into the reason for my excitement, let me clear some things up: yes, I know that we should be happy in the skin we're in.  Yes, I know that a BMI test does not test muscle mass, the size of your heart, or your self-worth.  Yes, I have seen the Special K commercial where the scale says sweet things when you step on it.  Well guess what?  I don't have that scale, and I'm not that warm and fuzzy.  Anyone can say that they don't really care what the scale says, and if you ask me, I think they're fibbing.  I think almost EVERYONE cares what the scale says.  And if you don't you should.  Not as a be-all, end-all measurement, but a "I'm doing something right," or "I may need to work on something," or even a "something may be wrong" measurement.  Skinny people worry about the scale because they may want to gain weight.  Bodybuilders and weight lifters consult the scale to see if they've made an numerically measurable gains.  Obese and overweight people consult the scale to see if they've lost or gained a few.  Maybe it doesn't dictate your life, but you care. 

So here I am, three years into a pretty intense health commitment to myself, to get healthy and strong, and to lose these "extra" 47 pounds I've gained with Hashi's.  I started at 216 pounds (well, technically I "started" at 169 pounds, but then gained up to my 216).  I was OBESE.  At 5'8, I was, honestly, pretty comfortable at 169.  I exercised regularly, ran good healthy numbers, still looked good in a swim suit, and had a little extra in all the right places.  So when I began this journey in August of 2011, I was dead-set on losing that 47 pounds.  And that was it.  I didn't really care if I got stronger or healthier.  I just. wanted. to lose. the weight. 

And so it began.  I went to spin class five times a week.  I ran on the treadmill before spin to get "warmed up."  I joined Weight Watchers and counted points until I couldn't think of counting anything else.  And I lost 21 pounds in a year.  It was by far, the hardest 21 pounds I have ever lost, every single one of them.  The pounds did not just drop off like they used to, they inched off.  Crept off.  Slow as molasses.  I had never had to lose that much before--maybe a pound here, a few pounds there, but never a big chunk like that.  I had a whole new appreciation for people who lost tens of pounds.  It took serious self-discipline and dedication, and I was proud of myself, 195 and proud.  Never thought I'd see that day that I was so proud to be 195.  When Weight Watchers and spin class was no longer doing the trick, I enlisted the help of Christie Nix, of FitNix fame.  By that point, I had gained a few pounds BACK (thank you, Hashimoto's), and was seriously depressed about it.  I was becoming OBSESSED with losing weight.  I HAD to be 169 again, and I'd take even less than 169, if I could get it.  So I began working with Christie, and something strange happened.  It wasn't all of a sudden, but gradually, I began to care more about how I felt and how much I could lift and what my body could do, rather than the number on the scale.  I stayed committed, and watched my body change shape, even when the scale didn't move.  I learned how to love myself again, without association with a number or what everyone else looked like.  And it felt good.
Fast forward to now, October 2014, and I'm still committed.  I've completely cleaned up my diet.  I've eliminated the foods that my body (and my Hashimoto's) can't tolerate.  I'm careful and committed to getting my fruits and veggies and good protein in.  I train hard and often.  And I can honestly say, I don't really get on the scale all that much.  I don't really care what it has to say.  The only numbers I really care about are on dumbbells and my blood work labs.  But last week at the doctor's office, the nurse asked me to step on the scale.  And I did.  And I didn't make the excuses that I used to before, as the numbers crept up, or feel the need to tell the story about why I weigh this much.  On the top of the digital scale, there is a strip of light going from green to red, with yellow in between, green being "Normal" (whatever than means) and red being "Obese."  As I stood there, I watched the little arrow go to the middle of the yellow, "overweight" area.  Standing there, I thought about how the me three years ago would have probably gone to the restroom and cried, and then harped on the fact that I was overweight.  But not this me.  This me knows how hard it's been to get from obese to overweight.  All the blood, sweat, and tears (literally all three) that I have let go of during this journey.  I cannot describe to you how good it felt to read that scale.  "Overweight" never sounded so good.  Crazy, right?  Know why it sounded good?  Because I'm doing everything I can do to be the best me possible.  I exercise, eat right, take my supplements, I RELAX, and stay up on all my Hashimoto's info.  So if I'm overweight, so be it.  There was a time I was obese.  Everyone starts somewhere, it's just where you let it that counts.