how did the cat get so fat?

How the hell did I get so fat? I hate throwing the word 'fat' around. It can be cruel, it can be inaccurate, or completely dramatic and make you want to punch someone square in the tooth to referring to themselves as such. But that's actually what I was...fat...just a fatty fat fat, flabby, completely out of shape and clinically obese. I think I started noticing my body changing somewhere between the ages of 22 and 23. I had gained a few pounds. Nothing much but I started filling out. Gradual. I finally started getting real curves. I thought it was pretty sweet until my cheeks started getting chubby. I didn't think that was very fair. My cheeks are right up there with my knees. They're just weird'ish. Anyways, as I neared my 24th birthday I discovered I was preggs. I ate really, really well when I was pregnant. No (major) sweets, no sodas, no fast food, TONS of greens (I honestly craved the color green...it was strange, but it wasn't pica...I didn't take up eating of dirt and shredded paper towels so I had that going for me) and I allowed myself one cup of coffee a day in the morning so I could function. I needed it. As most of you who have been pregnant can agree...being pregnant is more like existing for those nine months and dying it for it to all be over as opposed to living and embracing. Bullshit. I have to say, as terrifying and horrendously complicated as my pregnancy was, I can say I only gained 14.75 pounds. But we must factor in that I only lasted 31 weeks out of the full 40. My oven burnt out. I had no excuse to gain that much weight. If you're wondering, Olivia is fine. She was just as impatient then as she is now at 7 and wasn't interested in waiting another 8 1/2 weeks to be born. Anywho, I lost most of that baby weight immediately. Yay for me, right? Sure.

It wasn't until about 26 the scale just kept tipping further and further in the opposite direction of my favor. As the next couple of years I just stopped giving a shit all together. I ate whatever I wanted, did nothing to work it off, and spent all my nites on the couch and on my ass. I look back and it makes me sad to think my favorite word to Olivia was always "No." No, we can't go for a walk. No, I really don't want to go to the park. No, I don't want to play in the snow. No, no soccer ball kicking in the back yard today kiddo...maybe next weekend. The nos go on and on. I considered myself not a bad mom, but just a tired one. I was tired because I was a lazy slob.

My turning point came on my 30th birthday. My mom and friends had planned a surprise birthday for me on the Sunday afternoon of October 11, 2009. I went to a movie with my friend Jessica while everyone else set the surprise up. I wore jeans, gym shoes, a hoodie. No makeup, hair in a ponytail, and no shower (showers are optional on Sundays) I walked in to all of my friends and some family excited to see me on a huge milestone birthday and I decided to look like this. Super cute:

 

I had friends from out of town, friends who just had babies, friends who were pregnant, friends I hadn't seen in a while, and even a friend who went furniture shopping after running a marathon...that all looked better than me. And this was my day. There are 60 pictures like this I could share, but you get the point. I was embarrassed. I had let myself go. Physically, emotionally, mentally - I was a mess. I was almost at 170 or so at one point. Remember...I'm only 5'1.

Until I enlisted outside help. The following picture is of the two men that I believe, saved my life.

(Sorry boys...it's the best one of the only two that I have). On the left is Scott (aka Scotteo) and on the right is my brother Matthew (aka Matteo) They both live in south Florida. I called Matthew in a crying panic and was desperate. I told him I would do anything. He said he was on it, he would talk to his friend and to sit tight for a day or two. Via electronic mail my brother introduced me to one of his closest friends, Scott. Scott was a personal trainer and my brother just practiced fitness and clean eating practically all of his life. Between the two of them, they ensured me they'd get me headed in the right direction. I owe them a lot. 

Scott provided me with a diet plan that was more like a 'this is the way you are supposed to eat because your body is only wired to process, break down and metabolize THIS food' than a diet. He also set up a workout plan for me to follow. Twice a week (for about six months) they both checked in with me via text and e-mail. Asking me my weight lost, asking me how I felt, what I ate and asking what kind of work outs I had been doing the last couple of days. If Scott didn't hear from me by Tuesday morning, I would get a "WTF where the hell are you" email. He was always on it. I got to visit them after the first 35-40 pounds came off and it was a weekend of gratitude, happiness and celebration. There aren't enough thank you's to go around. I don't think they could ever really understand what they did to my heart & soul. Their dedication to me changed me forever.

Present Day: I work out a lot. A lot-a lot. And people constantly ask how I could possibly have that kind of time. I work full-time, I commute about 10 hours+ a week. I have a daughter whom I share time with her father. I have a fiance, a wedding to plan, a dog to look after and a social life. There are student council functions and Girl Scout functions. She has gymnastics a half hour away. None of that is ignored. I have that kind of time because I MAKE that kind of time. I do my errands and my grocery shopping at lunch time during the week. I spend at least one lunch hour a week paying bills, making phone calls, and balancing my checkbook. I do chores late at nite. I do chores early in the morning. I have a mother who understands what an hour a day at the gym does for me so she'll watch her one nite a week. And even more so, I have an EXTREMELY supportive fiance (his name is Jason btw) who also does the same. He encourages me to go and to have fun and kick ass. And most importantly, an understanding daughter. She knows this is who I am now. She knows and gets why I have to be gone an hour a nite. She knows she used to have a sad and boring mom and now she has a happy and active one that likes to do things and go places. This is the mommy I was two and a half years ago vs. the one I am prouder to be today:

I would not give up the me on the right for a few more hours on the couch each week to go back to the me on the left:

 

This is why I make the time. I'm just a better me.

Have a happy Saturday!

HB