"You don't realize how strong a person really is until you see them at their weakest moment"

When I started this blog, I wanted it to be completely real. Real thoughts, real struggles, a real documentary of what I'm going through.

There are some deeper topics that I haven't touched on, that I feel are important - so this post is one of them. It comes from a lot of conversations I've had with people who ask for my advice, who I support, and from conversations I hear. Depending on the day, I am more open about the topic - so it is something some of you may know... and others this will come as a surprise.

The Scale

If there is one thing I know, it is that you can't go by the number on the scale.
No, muscle does not weigh more than fat. A pound, is a pound. But they do differ in density. This means if you look at five pounds of muscle and five pounds of fat side by side, the fat takes up more space than the muscle. 
So why do people say muscle weighs more than fat?
People make this statement when they put on weight. 
"I gained three pounds and I’ve been working out." The good-friend response is, "It’s all muscle." And while this is a very comforting thing to hear, it’s just impossible to gain three pounds of muscle in a week. It is common for exercisers to lose fat and gain muscle without a change in body weight, though... but no matter how many times I preach it, it is hard to believe it in terms of myself.

My weight is something I obsess about every minute of every day. Some of you may think this is an exaggeration, and I wish I could say it was.
It is constantly on my mind. There are a few ... rare... moments when it isn't a negative thought. I may think "my legs feel strong today" or something of a similar fashion.. but more times then not, it is negative
"I can feel my love handles jiggle when I walk up these stairs" "too much is hanging over these pants right now..."
I'm my own biggest critic, and I'm a tough judge.

This all comes from a past filled with insecurities and body image issues. I wasn't overweight until 1st or 2nd grade. From that point, I gradually got bigger. I went on my first diet in 5th grade. As most diets are, it was a temporary fix. It was the summer after 7th grade that everything changed. It was that summer that my eating disorder began. It was that summer that I became an anorexic.

         

Seventh Grade [Left] to Eight Grade [Right]

I was good at keeping my disorder a secret. You come up with ways to not eat with other people, and when you have to, you figure out how to eat the bare minimum without any questions asked. I worked out so people thought my weight loss was simply from that.. You become very good at hiding things. The only person who figured it out was a counselor at my middle school, and to try to hide it from him, I would place my friends food in front of me at lunch when he walked by. I would tell him I was eating again .. a statement filled with pride and confidence... even when I actually wasn't. The people closest to me didn't find out until I made a short documentary about anorexia during my first video production class in college [clip at bottom].

That counselor is actually the guy in the photo above, and that is me walking across the stage in 8th grade. I was smiling, I was 'confident', I was thin...

A point about anorexia that is true, is that when you start eating again - your body will hold onto everything you eat as fat... Which is exactly what happened.... and by the end of high school, I was overweight again.

First month of college

My whole life has been a yo-yo. Constantly going up and down in weight. The only times in my life that I have had a lot of friends in school or had any 'relationship' were the times that I was thin... the times I was actually broken the most inside. What I had taken away from this, is that the only way to be accepted was to fit the mold... and despite how much I wish that statement is incorrect... is untrue... it isn't. It is sadly the reality of today.

I thought that at least in college I would no longer be teased for my weight... people are more mature in college, right? ... it is a nice thought. I woke up one morning with 'fat bitch' written on my door. If you know anything about me, it is that I am far from mean. Fat, yes. Mean, definitely not. I don't know which word hurt more.

It was defeating.

The one thing I regret about my weight loss is that I did it for other people. I did it to fit in, to be liked ... to make other people happy. "People only like me when I'm thin"

Guess what? Your problems don't stop when you drop the weight. There will always be people out there who don't approve... whether it is the way you look, the way you act or the way you talk [yes, sometimes I will talk in weird voices and accents - deal.] There will always be something. There will always be somebody who is talking about you when your back is turned - and when it isn't. Losing the weight was something I should have done for myself.

Who are you losing it for?

The only good thing, is that this time around I did it the right way. A life style change and exercise.

If I learned anything, it is that there isn't a quick fix. You can diet and lose the weight - but if you don't change your ways, you are going to end up back where you were - and sadly, most people do.

I wasn't blessed with a great metabolism. In fact, I was cursed with slow metabolism and a terrible sweet tooth. I can't eat what I want all the time... I have never been able to, I can't now, and I won't be able to tomorrow. I work hard. My eating, is boring. But despite how much I wish I could say I'll never be that person again - I simply don't know. My track record isn't the best... though I have a better chance now, then I did when I was anorexic...  But as I see the numbers creep up on the scale, I get overwhelmed with anxiety that I am on my way. It could be muscle, it could be fat - but all I see are the digits staring back at me.

When people say anorexia is a disease, they are correct. It is something that can stay with you. With me, it has - not in the sense that I skip meals and don't eat, but in my poor self image. I don't take compliments well, I am constantly critiquing my own self, and I hate eating in front of other people. I am overly self conscious when people make a comment on what or how much I can eat.

Do not get me wrong. I will not sit here and say I regret my overweight days. I 100% do not. I feel that they made me a better person. I think from it I became more compassionate, considerate, and understanding towards peoples feelings. I also have a greater sense of wanting to help others achieve their goals because I know how they are feeling.

I know how they feel because I was there... and I am there... and my training is suffering. 

I don't eat enough for how hard I am working because calories scare me.... and this is doing nothing but harm. I don't feed my body with enough energy through food, and I too often put myself in starvation mode, which surprisingly - makes you gain weight. Instead of seeing the number creep down, it is creeping up. Could some of it be muscle, sure. Is it all? No.

It gets me down, it stresses me out... all of the time.

I was incorrect in a previous post. In my base periods I should be at my training weight, and once I enter my build periods - the intensity of those workouts will help me ... should help me ... drop to my race weight. I hope this is true.

I don't know what I hope to get out of this post. Perhaps saying it out loud will help me overcome this internal anxiety that is overtaking me and holding me back in my training. Perhaps one of you will realize there are no quick fixes. Perhaps it will touch someone who is going through a similar struggle that I have and will always fight. Who knows. But that is my story. That is where I came from. And this is where I am.