Have you ever been doing something challenging – maybe you were running a 5k or participating in a Crossfit class or yoga; maybe you were making or following a meal plan, navigating the food booby traps that pop up in office break rooms and social gatherings? You come to the point where it gets more strenuous, when you are tired and you hear a voice in your head that tells you, “this is too hard.” It tells you, “you can’t do this.” It tells you to quit, that you are too something… too slow, too tired, too old, too heavy, too whatever. I have to tell you something about that voice. That isn’t your voice.

I know it kind of sounds like your voice but it isn’t. That is the voice of every person, every situation that has ever left you feeling like a failure, feeling like something is impossible, feeling embarrassed or ashamed. That is the voice of the high school P.E. teacher who failed you after you ran four consecutive laps on the track for the first time in your life simply because you took a little longer than deemed necessary (true story). That is the voice of the sales woman at Dillard’s who helped you zip a dress you were trying on then told you that you needed to wear Spanx with it (true story). That is the voice of the couple a few tables away at Carrow’s Restaurant discussing what you ordered and what you should have ordered because of your size in voices, intentionally or not, loud enough for you to overhear (again, true story). That is the voice of all the catty bitches who say things like, “oh my god, she should NOT be wearing that.” That is the voice of every bully, every mean girl, everyone who ever tore you down in order to make themselves feel better.

And I’ll tell you something else about that voice. It is a f*&%ing liar. That voice doesn’t know you or know what you can do. It doesn’t know your limits or abilities. You are strong enough, you are perfect, you can do anything you believe you can do. You are a warrior, you are a superhero, you are the champion of your own life story. But that voice is so tempting. Sometimes the voice tells you what you think you need to hear. Sometimes it seems like it is looking out for your best interests. That voice is going to let you off the hook, show you how to rationalize quitting when something gets uncomfortable. And that voice is loud – man, is it loud. Loud and persistent. When I ran my last 10K, I think that voice was chattering in my head for the final two kilometers… “you already did better than last year, you can walk now”… “you are so tired, your legs are so tired, you can’t do this.” I ran those last two kilometers with that voice nagging at me. That voice didn’t want me to finish, it didn’t want me to achieve my goal. It wanted me to quit, maybe because I ran those four laps 20 years earlier only to be told I failed. That voice doesn’t want what is best for you, it doesn’t want you to be happy and it will never guide you where you truly want to go. It thrives on your insecurities and fears; its singular goal is to keep you mired in defeat, to keep you feeling helpless and powerless.

Whatever it takes, you have to stop listening to that voice. You can not give it that kind of power over you and your happiness. Find our own voice; the voice that knows you are limitless, you can accomplish anything. I use my voice against the lying voice. At the risk of looking like a crazy person, I will speak out loud when necessary just to make sure MY voice is louder than that other voice. I have no patience for that voice, no empathy. I will ignore that voice or tell it to shut up, I will talk over, I will mock it. Nine reps in to a fifteen rep set of TRX high rows, I’ll start saying aloud, “piece of cake, I got this, I could do this all day” to drown out my screaming muscles and that screaming voice saying, “this is too hard, you can quit at ten reps – that’s still pretty good.” No, voice, pretty good isn’t good enough for me anymore. I have missed out on years of life and experiences and joy because I settled for the mediocre existence you had planned for me. Next time you are struggling with something and want to quit, listen for that voice. Identify it, see it for what it is, then tell it to shut the eff up. Give it a name if you need to, talk to it aloud, find your way to combat that lying, cheating bully of a voice until there is no place left for it to lurk in your mind.

Let your own voice guide you – you know what you want, you know how to get there. You know… you MUST know… you are worth it. You are worth every ounce of sweat, every long soak of sore muscles in an epsom salt bath, every moment of hard. You are worth every elated moment you step on a scale or button your jeans and see progress. You are worth every crossing of the finish line, every Savasana. You are worth the complicated meal plan, you are worth every extra jump on the box, you are worth passing up on birthday cake at the office. Not only are you worth it, you can accomplish all those things easily. It’s a walk in the park, you could do that all day. Dream up something amazing and do it because you can.

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WEEK TWO CHECK-IN
Weight: 210.2 (2.4 pounds lost this week, 4.8 pounds lost total)

Why? One little word, three little letters, one huge question. Why? Why do you do what you do? Why did you start? Why do you endure and persist? I have been thinking a lot about whys. The why is what motivates us to start, what we reach into our memories to retrieve when we lose our ways, what we hold onto with white-knuckled death grips when we struggle to carry on. I had a why when I began this journey six years ago but I lost it. I didn’t misplace it or lose sight of it – no, my why died, destroyed by the lessons I learned along my way. It can not and should not be resurrected.

Talking about it now, I speak of my why in a low voice, refusing to look you in the eye. I am embarrassed of my why. It was silly and ridiculous. Don’t think that means I regret my why because I don’t. I am grateful for my why, it got me started and I owe every gram of success since to it. Even the smallest spark can start a fire. In the simplest terms, my why was a boy; a boy I liked and who I wanted to like me back, a boy I wanted to see me. It is, of course, bigger than that and the bigger explanation is that my why was the belief that changing myself physically would change the way people felt about me. That is the fundamental problem with my why and why my why was always doomed.

As far back as I can remember, I indulged in fantasies involving my losing weight and some man who had spurned me suddenly seeing me in a new light, falling helplessly in love with me. It was like that moment when the nerdy girl removes her glasses and takes down her hair in the teen rom-com, leaving the most popular boy in school mouth agape and swooning – only my big reveal was my thin figure. I would be suddenly thin and suddenly wanted. Twenty years of this kind of thinking (and dieting) and my belief in my own lovability and worth was helplessly tangled up in the idea of weight loss. I had such a pretty smile, I would be so beautiful if I were thin. Right? That’s what I was told, anyway. And then I met another boy.

He was no prize, trust me. My self-esteem had flown the coop years before and he was an asshole (specifically, he was a self-involved, superficial megalomaniac) who had feigned interest in me for the sole purpose of feeding his own dying ego with the rapt attention of a sad, desperate woman. But the smallest, most pathetic spark can start a fire. While he was out dating women he felt worthy of his attention, I went to the gym and tried to make myself worth something. I lost over 100 pounds, metaphorically took off my glasses and let down my hair and he… he couldn’t have cared less. He treated me the same way he always had; like I was disposable. From this I learned something vital and here it is: losing weight can not make you anything you aren’t are to begin with (except for healthy). It can’t change the way someone feels about you. It can’t make you more likable, more lovable, it can’t increase your worth. The good news is, you are already likable, lovable, worth a thousand jerks who treat you like gum on their shoes and you will learn that along the way, too.

This lesson transformed my life more than anything else throughout my journey. If I hadn’t learned to love myself, to embrace my worth I never could have found the pure, unconditional love I have now. I never could have prioritized myself and recognized the importance of my own health and happiness. But, in learning this lesson, I lost my why and I think that may be the reason I have struggled to reach my goal, to sustain this lifestyle over the years. Without a why I am a kite with no tail, dipping and diving, adrift and spinning. I can no longer answer those questions: why do I do what I do? Why do I endure and persist? I can’t answer that for you today, I haven’t been able to answer those questions for years and it shows in my fight to get and stay motivated, in my inability to persist and ensure. I don’t know if I need to find another why or if, perhaps, there is already another why I am yet to discover that drives each new attempt, each time I start again, each flare of inspiration. Or can I do this without a why? Is it enough to simply know it is the right thing to do, to do it simply for the sake of finishing what I started? What do you do when you lose your why?

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WEEK ONE CHECK-IN
Weight: 212.6 (2.4 pounds lost)

My first run since December 2, 2014 – I can’t believe it’s been so long. I wasn’t running for distance or speed, just time: 15 minutes out and 15 minutes back for a 30-minute cardio session before my TRX workout. I’m not sure what I was expecting other than maybe the naive expectation of picking up where I left off. Suffice it to say, the run was brutal. I am not sure I have ever attempted running at this weight and every cell in my body lodged a complaint almost immediately. At about nine minutes, when it hadn’t gotten easier and I knew I wasn’t halfway done, the thoughts of quitting started. Over the next few minutes (read: eternity), my mind came up with at least a half dozen ways I could cut a corner and save myself a little misery. I could turn back at 13 minutes; I would be slower on the way back so that would put me home at 30 minutes. I could run 15 minutes out then walk back; it is only my first run so I shouldn’t expect to be able to run the whole way. There were more, each as much a cop-out as the last. Then, just before minute 14, I had a realization. It seems so obvious, so “no duh” when sitting comfortably at a desk but when my lungs were burning and my legs aching and the salt of my own sweat stinging my eyes it seemed a profound realization. Here it is: any corners I cut out on the road, in the gym, on the TRX or with any other workout is not without consequence. I can rationalize them away in a moment of discomfort, convince myself that it is perfectly logical to quit early; however, every time I welsh on a workout I will pay a price. I may pay that price on the scale, I may pay that price when the reality of quitting slams into my conscience like a dump truck on nitrous. One way or another, quitting will come back to haunt me.

I know how this process goes. It’s hard, especially in the beginning. Sure, you start out great and strong and inspired. But then it gets hard – it gets physically hard because workouts are supposed to challenge your body, it gets mentally hard because you are out there on the road knowing that people are home on their couches watching Jeopardy and eating dinner and that seems “normal” and it is exhausting and painful to feel like the special snowflake running while everyone else is relaxing after a long day’s work. Quitting is always – always – going to feel like an option. Hell, most days it’s going to feel like a damned good idea. There will be moments over the course of this process when the quit wins, when I pack it in early or shave a minute off here or there, when it feels too hard. I’m going to have to cope with the consequences of those days. But today I am proud of myself because last night, when I wanted to go home, I stayed out there for 15 minutes out and 15 minutes back, running the whole way.

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STARTING CHECK-IN
Weight: 215

I promised you an outline. I put this together, really, as a guide for myself – to outline exactly how I hope to accomplish my goals for a healthier, more balanced life. I am sharing it as a way to make myself accountable as well as a way to release my intent into the Universe where it may manifest. I imagine this outline will be a bit of a living document, constantly growing and evolving as I move through this journey, learning along the way.

I. BODY

NUTRITION

1. Weight Loss
Nutritional goals will be set and meals prepped/planned in order to achieve a healthy two pounds per week weight loss.Specific targets set for calories, fat, saturated fat, carbohydrates, fiber and protein.

2. Health
Nutritional goals will be set and meals prepped/planned in order to create a nutrient-dense, balanced diet for optimum overall health. In additional to weight loss goals, targets set for micronutrients, including sodium, sugar, vitamins and minerals.

3. Breakdown of Goals
Calories: I have had the most success in the past using Weight Watcher’s old “points” system (not “Points Plus”). That formula can be found here. With each 10 pounds lost, I subtract 50 calories from the meal plan and adjust all other macro- and micronutrient goals as well.
Gender: 2
Age: 2
Height: 1
Activity: 0
10% of my Current Weight in pounds: 22
Total: 27 x 50 (50 calories per point) 1,350 calories per day

Macronutrients: I am starting out using the recommended macronutrient ration for Mesomorph body types: 30% (101g) Protein/40% (135g) Carbohydrate/30% (45g) Fat. I may adjust this if necessary. Fiber target is 25g.

Micronutrients: Based on my nutritional goals, targets are 2300mg sodium and 45g sugar. I use RDA for vitamins and minerals. As a vegan, I don’t bother tracking cholesterol.

FITNESS

1. Workout Days
I am beginning this journey with the TRX 8-Week Training Program. Program includes varied workouts 6 days per week plus one rest day. I will also add additional cardio for fat loss and hearth health. After the 8-week program, I will assess progress and decide whether to repeat, add other workouts to my regimen, etc. Eventually, I would love to include yoga, swimming and cardio kick-boxing to my workouts.

2. Non-Workout Active Lifestyle
Incorporate lunchtime walks to break up my workdays of constant sitting. Incorporate physical activity into leisure time, i.e. bike rides, hikes and walks in my free time.

HYDRATION
I used to go by the 8 8-oz glasses per day of water recommendation; however, new studies show we need more water for proper hydration, particularly if working out. Calculation for hydration is as follows. Multiply your weight (220 – I am rounding up) by 2/3 (147.4) plus add 12 oz for every 30 minutes of working out. My daily mimmim water would be 148 oz, but it would be 184 if working out 90 minutes per day. Water may be enhanced with fresh fruit, cucumber or mint.

Aside from water, I allow myself one cup of coffee per day with breakfast. Decaffeinated green or herbal tea is acceptable. Absolutely no juice, soda (diet or otherwise), or other commercial beverages allowed.

SLEEP
My goal is to get a minimum of eight hours sleep per night.

 

II. MIND

PRIORITIZE MY NEEDS
Making my health and well-being a priority is not a selfish act; rather it is a necessity. I can not take care of others if I am not taking care of myself. I am not a good partner, friend, sister, aunt or daughter if I do not take care of myself. This does not mean I should blatantly disregard the needs or wants of my loved ones; it simply means it is ok to put myself first when it comes to my health, fitness and overall well-being.

UNPLUG/STILLNESS
One of the biggest causes of mental turmoil for me is outside “noise.” I will make a point to remove the “chatter” from my life when at all possible. This means unplugging from social media, news media, etc. during evenings and weekends. I must allow for stillness of mind and tranquility.

Make time for relaxing, peaceful pursuits, i.e. reading, journaling, drawing, participating in creative endeavors, etc.

 

III. SPIRIT

MEDITATION
Daily meditation is key to healthy heart and spirit. Make time each morning and/or evening for quiet introspection and mediation.

BE GENUINE 
Be my true self, not a portrayal of what I think others want of me. It is only through being genuine, honest and candid that I can achieve whole wellness. It is not my job to be perfect, to be inspiring or to be a role model. My only responsibility is to be myself.

BE PRESENT
Pay attention to every step of this journey, be mindful and present and appreciative of the experience and lessons. Do not get caught up in the future or past, in goals or past successes and failures. The day will come when this journey is behind me and, on that day, I don’t want to realize it passed me by without my savoring each second.

 

So there it is… I may refer back to this often, I may add to it or change it on occasion. The most important thing for now is that it is here, in the world, powered by my intent.

Is it frustration? Is it desperation? Have I been lying to myself all along or have I simply forgotten what mattered, forgotten where I have been? I just spent the better part of the past hour writing what I hoped would be an inspiring (nigh Pulitzer-winning) blog entry about how this time around I would not make this all about weight loss. I would make it about wellness and self-care, about overall health and happiness. This time, I would look at nutrition in terms of making my body thrive and my skin glow. I would incorporate fitness into my life beyond just the gym, keeping active and getting fit. I would meditate, be present in the now and treat myself with compassion and empathy as I navigated these changes. I maligned focusing simply on calories consumed, sweat expelled and the digital number beaming up at me from the scale beneath my feet, validating or vilifying my previous week’s efforts. “Oh no,” I wrote, “this is not the way. I must make this journey about overall wellness, blah blah blah.” I’d had a profound revelation and I was sharing it with you. I made an outline, complete with roman numerals, detailing my plan (which, as of this point, I have not yet scrapped). It was great. I was inspired. Then, mid-sentence, I had to fact-check myself and, thus time traveled back to May 2014 and my first ever blog entry. I was stupefied. I had already written about how I’d began a weight loss journey but evolved to taking a journey of overall wellness, devoted to physical, mental and spiritual wellness. Reading this knocked the wind from my sails. Honestly, this approach has most certainly not been in the forefront of my mind. For the past year, I have meal planned for my calorie range and plugged every step into Endomondo. I have not meditated, I have not cared for my body, mind or spirit, I have not felt balanced or well. I have felt tired and defeated. So, I ask myself: is it frustration at the weight gain that has me mentally neglecting the lessons I’d learned long ago? Is it desperation to take that weight back off? Or have I simply forgotten, have I become so far removed from the “me” who had succeeded and the “me” who had learned those valuable lessons about balance the interconnectedness of body, mind and spirit that I’ve lost them? I find myself now, not inspired but questioning… realizing that I am truly starting over at the beginning in many ways. I have to believe this realization, while startling and upsetting, is a good thing, even though I feel a bit gut-punched at the moment.

Whether I thought of it now or discovered it years ago, this plan resonates with truth for me. This is about wellness and transformation in every possible way. This will transform my body, my outlook on life, my relationships, everything. This is the path – a path I navigated before – to being the best possible version of myself. Rather than deride myself for having lost my way, lost sight of this truth, I will take myself by the hand with loving compassion and guide myself back to where I need to be.

p.s. I will complete and post the aforementioned outline in a separate entry as both a means of sharing my plans as well as keeping myself accountable.

Nearly two years and no word from me. What happened? Where do I begin? At the beginning of the end. I was doing great, losing weight, getting fit and sharing my successes with you. In July, I hit a weight loss milestone and felt unstoppable… right up until I stopped. It wasn’t a sudden halt, but rather a gradual slowing to a crawl. I had an off-week and gained a few pounds. I went out to brunch, went out to dinner, worked late and skipped the gym and gained a few more pounds. Brunch and dinner and working late and catching up on “Say Yes to the Dress” became more frequent, meal planning and gym time became less frequent, pounds came and went and came again. In October I found David and quickly fell in love, spending hours each night on the phone to California, dreaming and making plans for our future together. I could cop out and blame those late nights on the phone but they never stopped me from going to the gym in the afternoon. I could point to all sorts of external influences but, ultimately, I have always had distractions in my life, other things I could be doing. I had grown complacent, content to rest on my laurels and my routine was no longer a routine. The weight came back on slowly, creeping up steadily. I moved back to California, had to find a new gym and learn to cook for two instead of one. More convenient excuses – but excuses not reasons because I found a gym and hardly ever go; David’s constant complaint is that I feed him too much, not too little. No, not one damned thing stood in the way of my getting back on track except me and whatever imaginary roadblock I have erected between myself and my goal. And I quit blogging. I had nothing to say. Who would be inspired by this?

I had always been excited to share my wins, my goals and dreams with the world. Success is only half the story, only half the truth and half truths aren’t truths at all. The other half of the truth is failure; the stumbles, wrong turns and utter defeats. I could scarcely admit those to myself let alone divulge them to friends and strangers. I have been doing a lot of soul searching lately and have come to realize just how valuable failure is. I’d been internalizing my failures for months, ashamed and depressed and completely void of motivation. But failure is something we all share, it’s something we have all faced and overcome. I have learned so much more from the failures in my life than the successes. We celebrate each others victories but awkwardly brush off or ignore missteps – but I am blogging today because I want to celebrate my failure. My failure is a blessing. My failure is the launchpad for change, the source of insight. It is a powerful lesson in life and perseverance, in humility and picking oneself up by the bootstraps. So here I am, humbled and white-knuckling my bootstraps, ready to dust up the atmosphere and make lightning strike a third time.

My first step is facing my failures and that meant doing something I had been avoiding for months: getting on the scale. The second step is taking shame out of the equation, exploring my feelings with honesty and introspection and discovering how (and, more importantly, why) I got here. The third step is overhauling everything and beginning again. Instead of jumping on WordPress when the going is good, when I can joyfully share all the happy progress I have made, I am taking you on this journey from the very beginning – the unflattering, difficult-to-admit beginning: 40 pounds regained, buying larger pants, popping Pepcid to combat the return of my reflux; humiliated that I have moved the ring David gave me to my pinky finger for fear that I won’t be able to slide it off my ring finger; frustrated and discouraged and feeling that I have failed everyone who ever said they were inspired by me. While I have been blessed these past two years in so many ways – finding love, moving home to California, getting a great job, spending time with family and friends – I have also spent the better part of them feeling disheartened, apathetic and helpless in terms of my weight and health.  So there it is, the ugly truth is out… Jody lost and found and lost and a total mess but a hopeful mess.

I talk about myself a lot. Specifically, I talk about my weight loss, my fitness and my diet a lot. I think about it a lot, I write about it, I post on Facebook about it; I field questions and respond to comments about it a lot. As a humble wall flower-type person by nature, the phenomenon of simply putting my own needs first feels awkward and strangely egotistical; therefore, the broken-record of dialog makes me extremely self-conscious and, at times, distressed. I worry that I will be written off as vain and self-consumed, or worse, that others will believe I am pushing my lifestyle on them. As a result, I often feel compelled to apologize for these aspects of my life being ever present in conversation and I attempt to marginalize them in my interactions with friends. I can’t help but think everyone is sick to death of hearing about it. But it is time for me to stop making apologies.

My transformation is nearly always in the forefront of my mind, whether I am contemplating my next meal plan, deciding on my next workout or simply visualizing goals. Of course I think about other things – work, relationships, activities and all the normal things we all think about on a daily basis. I don’t always instigate conversations with others regarding my weight loss; although I always respond openly and graciously when people bring it up. This hasn’t always been the case. There have been times over the course of this journey when my focus shifted to other things and, by and large, the results have been detrimental to my progress. Both professional setbacks and relationship catastrophes have sent me down emotional rabbit holes, setting off bouts of yo-yoing between dedication and total apathy regarding my health and wellbeing. When the dust settled and I regained my composure in a lasting way at the end of last year, I discovered I had also regained 33 pounds. This is what happens when I let my foot off the gas – when I don’t make my weight loss, my fitness and my diet a priority.

I am truly passionate about the changes I have made in my life – not because I’m physically smaller, certainly not because I am closer to fitting into some nonsensical societal expectation of my body – but because I am so blissfully happy. It is a joyous experience to do things you’ve always wanted to do but never believed possible. It lifts the spirits to feel truly healthy and alive and to feel that the life stretched out before you is one of infinite possibilities. If I could have felt this way 110 pounds heavier, I would have stayed 110 pounds heavier, but I didn’t. I felt lethargic, weighed down both physically and spiritually, destined for nothing greater than mediocrity. I lived my life in black and white while yearning for a life in Technicolor. I wanted a life of adventure and my body at that size could never have carried me though that kind of life. But I do not share my story because I think anyone else needs to lose weight. It isn’t my aspiration to inspire people to get thin – I merely hope to inspire others to be or do whatever will make them as happy as this has made me. If someone wants to take the telling of my story and twist it, internalize it and make it seem as if it comes from a place of judgment—let’s set the record straight, it doesn’t.

It’s a funny thing how we each perceive the world through our own lens, run all we see, hear and experience through our own filters. My own hang-ups can influence the way I see myself, causing me to become self-conscious about how often I talk about this aspect of my life, allowing me to make assumptions about what others may be thinking or feeling about me. When I step back and look at my intent – my intent I see clearly, my intent comes from my love both for myself and for the people in my life – I realize I don’t need to check myself, to downplay my achievements or quickly change the subject and dodge being the topic of conversation. I needn’t feel ashamed that my success has become a sort of identifier for me. And, above all else, I have absolutely no reason to apologize.

Inevitably, whenever we set out to do something new, hopes and expectations arise. My weight loss journey was no different. Of course, I had lots of silly little superficial teen rom-com type hopes – the ugly ducking turning into a swan, mercilessly rebuffing the men who had rejected me out of hand in the past – the kinds of expectations, as it turns out, whose realities are strictly confined to Rachel Leigh Cook characters and spools of celluloid film. I also formed notions of what my body would and could become, had ideas for the changes I’d like to see – but they were limited, reigned-in. I felt just getting from a size 24 to a size 12 would be good enough. After all, that is a significant change. Having settled most of my life – on jobs that didn’t challenge me and relationships with people who didn’t deserve me – I set myself up years in advance to accept mediocre results. I settled for both literally and figuratively sitting and watching as life passed me by. I convinced myself that observing was the next best thing to participating. I can’t honestly think of a single situation in which settling has improved the quality of my life.

It would be easy to settle on my weight loss goals and expectations. I think it’s common to assume an obese person may lose weight, but they will never be a fit person. The best we can hope for is to be an average-sized, possibly slightly overweight body. Someone who is 15-20 pounds overweight can be expected to lose the weight and have a slim, athletic physique but, for some reason, a person 150-200 pounds overweight is rarely held to the same expectations. I bought into this belief, too. I had written myself off as heavily framed. From the very start of this process until recently, I was content to accept always being a bit chubby. Here I am now, a size 12 and suddenly I am questioning everything.

I was not a large child. In fact, I was quite the opposite. I was a lanky, spindly child with long lean limbs and knobby knees and elbows – the quintessential bean pole. Tall as I may have been for my age, I always had a delicate frame. The women in my family are all slender-framed women. Why, then, had I for so long settled on the idea that I am the family’s big-boned anomaly? Having this epiphany of sorts, I started researching body fat percentages and healthy weight ranges for women of my height and age regardless of weight histories. I pulled high school algebra from the dark, cobwebbed recesses of my brain and made calculations – what would my weight be at the average body fat percentage for women (25-31%)? What would be my weight be at fitness level (21-24%)? Is average good enough?

I find myself now, for the first time, unwilling to settle. As I pulled and sorted all my size 14 and 16 pants for the Goodwill this past weekend, I realized what I wanted. I have worked myself to exhaustion in the gym; I am deeply dedicated to a healthy, wholesome diet. What I truly want is not to be a size 12. What I want is to be the best possible version of myself, the most physically fit, athletic and vibrant version of myself. I want to be what I would have been had I never gained the weight in the first place. And, finally, I am starting to see that isn’t asking for too much. I was willing to fight for the now 107.5 pounds I have already lost. Now I know I have the mettle to fight for body composition of 21% body fat and 38 more pounds lost. While the naysayers may discourage me, tell me if I lose another 40 pounds “there will be nothing left,” I know differently. I know what 5’10” and 21% body fat should look like. I will have the gumption to not be complacent. Good enough may be good enough for others but it simply isn’t good enough for me anymore.

During my life as a dieter, I pored over fitness magazines hunting for anything that could help me to lose weight. I clipped diet plans, dog-eared advertisements for pills, supplements and meal replacers, took special note of anything that promised I would “lose five pounds in one week.” Then, in the backs of the magazines, I would find myself riveted by the success story articles – ordinary people just like me who had achieved my deepest hope. All the people in those articles, regardless of age, gender, starting weight or circumstance, had one thing in common. Each and every one attributed their success to lifestyle change. It took me a long time to learn exactly what that phrase meant.

A lifestyle change isn’t merely tweaking daily behaviors – it is modifying the beliefs and values that drive our behaviors. Most of us know, intuitively, the habits associated with a healthy lifestyle. We may try to cut corners, find gimmicks and quick fixes, seeking out the path of least resistance – what will make the greatest possible change with the least possible effort. However, we intrinsically know we need to eat proper portions of healthful, nourishing foods, become physically active and drink lots of water. Once you honestly and objectively assess which changes need to be made, plenty of nutritional and fitness-related information is mere keystrokes away. The key to finally beginning to make successful lifestyle changes for me was in changing the way I felt about foods, fitness and myself. Only then could I change my behavior and lose weight.

Changing one’s views on food is extremely problematic. We live in a food-obsessed culture. Holidays, milestones, weekends, and even moods all seem to require ceremonial or celebratory involvement of food. We reward and console ourselves (and each other) with food. We easily rationalize every bite. We live to eat and it’s killing us or, at the very least, making us miserable. I had to divorce myself from this way of thinking and state of mind. First and foremost, I mentally changed the objective of my diet. No longer is it geared toward satisfying a craving or participating in a social norm. It is to fuel my body as effectively as possible so that I might live life to the fullest, in optimal health and with as few physical limitations as possible. I love the foods I eat, I get excited about them (as anyone unfortunate enough to have to tolerate my steady stream of Facebook food photo uploads can attest), but I do not need them all to be multi-course masterpieces of culinary pyrotechnics. I changed my attitude about food and diet and learned to appreciate not only simpler foods but also a life simplified by the knocking down of food off its pedestal. I now view healthy foods and small, frequent meals as a joy and a delight, not as deprivation, punishment or suffering.

My ideas about exercise had to be overhauled as well. In the past, the first week at a new gym was invigorating but it soon became a tedious and felt like my penance for becoming fat. I loathed it and would start mentally searching for an excuse to skip it. Workouts, if done right, are physically exhausting, they can leave your muscles spent and sore. Workouts ate up an hour or more a day of time I would have preferred to spend on the couch watching Jeopardy reruns. It was expensive and inconvenient. Flip the attitude switch! Workouts may leave me physically depleted, but they also leave me mentally charged with a brain full of swirly happiness-inducing endorphins. I find the feeling of fatigued muscles delicious and savor the feeling of sweat dripping from the tip of my nose onto the treadmill speeding by beneath me. The gym is my time, uninterrupted by emails, social media and outside thoughts. Each time I go, I challenge myself to push my body to its limits. Why? Because, time and again, it shows me I have no limits. And it doesn’t end with the gym. I enjoy unwinding after a long day at work with a stroll through the neighborhood or a meandering bike ride – no longer settling into my divot on the couch. I do yoga, run in charity races and dance in Mardi Gras parades. I am planning some hiking in the autumn. I see people in the park playing softball and badminton and think to myself, “I want to do that!” None of this would have been possible had I not reevaluated my feelings about physical activity and turned them on their head.

The biggest change of all, and perhaps the one responsible for my ability to look at food and exercise in a new light, is the change I have made in how I feel about myself. Just as it may be difficult to do something nice for someone you don’t care for, it is difficult to make any serious endeavors to improve your health if you don’t love yourself. Most of my life, I have pursued people, relationships, habits and scenarios which could reinforce, in my mind, my feelings of worthlessness. As much as I protested, declaring my desire to lose weight, I felt unlovable and undeserving and would, ultimately, sabotage my efforts. A number of factors helped me to turn this around including therapy, an amazing support system of encouraging and loving people, and my own success. Now, I can see my body is not my enemy – it is not my jailer, not my penance – it is the greatest gift I have and will ever receive in this life. Despite my treatment of it, my body has forgiven my every abuse and responded brilliantly and gratefully to the changes I have made. My spirit, once dour, stifled by my self-loathing, has been restored to the childlike, independent, mischievous and life-embracing one of my youth. My eagerness to try new things, my utter lack of concern regarding what others may think of me has returned as if it never left. This is the body, this is the essence of myself I love freely and care for above all else.

As my body carries me through life, I want more and more each day for that life to be long and unmarred by chronic disease or disability. When I place that kind of value on my physical and emotional well-being, changing my attitude and incorporating consistently healthy changes to my lifestyle, is the easiest thing I do in a day. Yet, I am still fallible. I will still enjoy cake on my birthday, I may still have days I don’t want to workout, and I will always have days when the old self-doubts creep back in. I’m human. It isn’t perfection I seek in making lifestyle changes, either to my routine or to my attitude, but progress. Every day I make decisions about what I value most, what I will strive to achieve or maintain. I feel that is, truly, the best any of us can do.