I had a little reality check last night.
If you’ve been around here for a long time, you may remember back to when I joined a weight loss challenge/competition-type thing at the gym.
I was the heaviest I’d ever been, I was done having kids, I felt like doodoo, and I was ready to make some changes.
That was four years ago.
Being a super competitive person, I went a little crazy during that competition.
Ultimately I almost won the whole thing. I came in second in the percentage of weight lost by a very small number. Like less than a percent or something. I can’t remember.
But I lost a lot of weight. And I transformed my body.
This weight loss challenge is also what helped me make exercise a regular part of my routine.
That ultimately led to me completing the NYC Triathlon and then the NYC Marathon a few months later.
It led to other changes.
It led to me giving up soda. I had a really bad Diet Coke addiction at the time and it’s now been over three years since I’ve had any sort of soda at all. I stopped taking sugar in my coffee two years ago. And I NEVER thought I’d be able to do that.
This program was a catalyst for making more healthy decisions in my life.
Like most people who lose a shit ton of weight in a short period of time, I vowed I’d never gain it back. I was a changed woman. A new woman.
Then, like many people who make that vow, I gradually put the weight back on.
So I joined the challenge/competition again.
While I’m disappointed in myself for putting almost all the weight I originally lost back on, I’m not beating myself up.
I’ve made lots of healthy changes in the last four years. Changes that have stuck.
So this time around, I’ll make a few more.
Those will stick, too.
And next year at this time I’ll be healthier than I am now with a few more healthy habits firmly ingrained into my routine.
But back to that wake up call.
When you start this challenge (last night was the kick off for the program), you have a few measurements recorded: your weight, your BMI and your percentage of body fat.
I don’t worry so much about the number on the scale. I’m not glued to an ideal number, nor do I use that as a measure for my self esteem or self worth.
But the fact that the number is twenty-three pounds more than it was when I finished the program four years ago is an indication that something is out of balance.
Twenty three pounds is significant.
And so is my body fat percentage.
Do you know what your body fat percentage is?
Do you know what it’s supposed to be?
The acceptable or healthy or normal range increases as you get older.
I’m 47 years old. But I’m in the acceptable range for like a 400 year old woman.
The ranges you get will vary a little depending on the place you get your information from.
But a person my age should have around 25% body fat. That’s… acceptable.
You know what my body fat percentage is?
Thirty fucking five percent.
What. The Fuck.
One third of my body is fat.
That’s like a whole arm and leg!
That puts me into the obese category.
That is not okay with me.
I’m not beating myself up over it.
But I’m definitely doing something about it.
Cause that’s not good.
I mean unless I take a flight over the Andes and my plane crashes into a mountain and I manage to survive the crash and have to wait for 72 days before I’m rescued.
Then the obese thing would be helpful.
But I don’t have any trips to Chile planned anytime in the near future.
So anyway, if you are struggling with gaining weight or feeling disappointed or know you have to make some changes and could use a little support, you’ll find it right here.
Especially over the next twelve weeks.
I’m not sure exactly how I’m going to document it this time, but I’m doing something.
The Monday-Get-Your-Butt-In-Shape weekly installment is back!
Now I’m off to move my ass and drink some water or plan some meals or something else that will get me out of the fucking obese range.
See you next Monday with some motivation and an update.