I know I haven't blogged in a while and it's not because I don't want to, or I'm not interested in it anymore, it is because honestly I've become a gym rat. I've been going to the gym at least five or six nights a week. On top of that little league has started which means five nights a week minimum will be spent up at the ball field and at some point I have to figure out the gym also. I've been fortunate enough to take a few lunch days and go this week but I know that won't last forever. That is going to mean a lot of very very late nights at the gym. The thing is, March 25th will be my one year at the gym and I have to make it. But I don't just want to make that, I have to make it to August which is my one year with my trainer. I want the gym to be something I see through until the end. Something I don't quit doing. If I am going to be addicted to anything, the gym is my vote.
I've been smashing goals lately. I made it below 170 pounds which was my first goal. Then I made it to 160 which was my next big goal. If I can get to 159 I get a reward (Cadbury mini eggs, the irony does not escape me).
But the biggest goal of all? The one that I've been just dying to conquer was the box jump. You know on the Biggest Loser when there is that square box and there is always one girl who is afraid to jump on it? That has been me for the last....ummm six years. I've been afraid of the box. I wouldn't even try. The last six months with my trainer I've flat out said no. No no no, I will not try. Then last week a few things happened. The first is that I ran a mile with ease on the treadmill, so I chose to stay on and run two miles. Then the next day I ran the mile 30 seconds slower. This week I actually shaved off another thirty seconds. I'm running an eleven minute mile. That may seem slow but I started out running a fifteen minute mile. The running made me feel a little brave. Combine that with my new preworkout and last week I suddenly started feeling brave. My trainer was out of town so another trainer came over while I stared at the 16" box and he offered to spot me. I looked at the box one time and made the jump.
I JUMPED ON THE BOX.
It was the most invigorating moment of my life. I did thirty more box jumps. Then on Friday my husband came over to spot me and I decided to try out the 20" box. You guys....I did it!
I dared to jump on the 24" box. The tallest box they have until you move onto the table. I did it. I did thirty box jumps on the tallest box. All totaled on Friday I did over seventy box jumps. I was sore as fuck the next two days. I went back today and did sixty more box jumps. I ran another mile. I did the stairmaster. I did 100 lat pull downs. 100 leg presses and 100 calf raises.
The box jump was my biggest goal and I slaughtered it. Today at my grandmas I jumped on her kitchen chair. She was so proud of me. I was proud of me. It was incredible.
I never knew that the gym could be so awesome. I never knew I could be so proud of myself. I never knew I would learn to think positive thoughts about myself.
Let's move on to some progress shots.
It's strange to see how big my shirts used to be. It's strange that I can buy off the rack now. It's strange that I'm wearing little Victorias Secret shorts and they fit, they aren't an extra large and they are loose.
This was me in a bathing suit last July. The right side was me last week. I'm working on it. I might have a bikini body this year by July. That would be an awesome goal. To be bikini ready one year after the first picture was taken.
I bought new jeans. They are a size 31. I washed them and they didn't even get tight. I feel amazing in them.
This is a photo I didn't post publicly. I took the photo to illustrate how deceitful photos can be. Everyone saw me in this dress and told me how fantastic I looked. I wanted not only myself but other people to also understand that everything is not always as it seems. I am still not thin. My legs still need a lot of work. My stomach pooches out. I didn't take this photo to bag on myself, I took the photos to remind myself that when I see someone smaller then me, or who looks better then me that maybe without their clothes on they have flaws too. I always see people and assume they look a certain way naked. I assume everyone looks better then me naked. Recently I saw one of those people naked and....she looked like me. She had cellulite, she had a pooch, she had stretch marks. It was a reality check. It was a much needed reality check. Maybe I don't look so bad. I know I have a lot of work but I wanted to post this picture so that people who look at me know the reality of it. I'm not perfect. I'm not thin, but I am a work in progress. I will get there. I do have nicer legs then I did. My stomach doesn't stick out past my boobs now. I'm getting there. Maybe I need to stop comparing myself to others and remember that everyone has things they aren't proud of. This might not make sense, but I guess it's kind of like I was judging a lot of books by their cover and then comparing myself to the other books. I didn't want other people who are on similar journeys to judge my body by my cover and feel defeated. Now you can see me underneath the clothes and know that maybe we aren't so different and you are doing a amazing job, and please don't give up on your journey.
That's all for now. I have more goals to smash.
posted on Mar. 10, 2014
Mar. 11 2014
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