They say that losing weight can be one of the hardest things a person can undertake.
I dunno, I always thought having babies, graduating from post-secondary school, starting a new career or moving far away from home… Those would be bigger, heavier, harder things. Heck, learning to walk after a crippling accident, or beating Cancer are monumentally more difficult than dropping a few pounds, right?
But, here I am, 30-something, two beautiful children, a hot husband, a great career and fabulous support network… and yup… Losing weight has been the hardest <bleeping> thing I have ever done. Who knew?
I should likely introduce myself. I go by a handle in this wonderful multicolour world of the Internet. My name is Sabby (long story on that, I’ll tell you over a beer someday). I have lived in Ottawa since 2008, having both my beautiful children here. I grew up around these parts too. So, I guess you could say I am a local.
As I mentioned, I am a mom, a wife, a career woman, and a successful human in all respects except one (according to society, not me, cuz I rock, y’all). I am overweight. Yes, yes, I know, stop composing the indignant letter now telling me that labels suck, and I am beautiful the way I am. Thank you, really, but I am not shying from the description.
I am fat.
So yeah… Here I am. Over the past year, I have been working at losing this weight, losing the shame, losing the guilt, and losing the weakness I see in my body when I look at pictures. Yes, horribly defeating, thinking those things of myself, feeling those negative emotions in my body. Learning not to think those is part of the process too! Positivity and self-esteem are also major, major achievements in the road to weight loss and health. Workin’ on it… *flex*
Last year, I was the heaviest I had ever been in my life. I was beginning to use the word “hate” to describe myself around the kids. I shut myself away, stopped socializing, and was prepared to simply exist for my children. You can read a rather full backstory on my own blog Mustang Sabby, where I talk mostly about my running, my nutty ideas, and the adventures therein. Seriously… Check it out! Fun times, and I love seeing my hit counter go up. *shameless plug*
My weight and fitness level hit home last Spring, when simply existing wasn’t enough anymore. I wanted to do and have things for me, but couldn’t remember how to accomplish them, or couldn’t find my size in stores. I did not fit down the slide at the park with my son, so avoided it, and picking up my daughter was something I abhorred doing.
Who hates playing with and picking up their own wee kids? Uh huh, I was in that place.
Physically, my joints and muscles were like jello, my body reacting to my last pregnancy by continuing to produce Relaxin (a hormone used to soften ligaments for childbirth, but can continue into the first year of motherhood) well after my daughter was born. Exercising was not allowed, as per my doctor (which made the negativity and weight gain easier to rationalize). He worried about me hyper extending something and hurting myself. No kidding. Walking hurt. Exercise? *cue hilarious laughter*
When I stopped breastfeeding full time, and went back to work (meaning I started talking to adults again), my joints stopped popping and snapping like Rice Krispies, and a I had a surge of energy. Holy Crap! It made the wallowing seem ridiculous and wasteful. I realized how bad a role model I was being for my kids. How taxing this must be on my husband. How much I had strayed from my authentic self.
The fog had lifted. I faced myself with a new eye. I had gained weight. I had lost fitness. I was a big, hot, mess.
I didn’t want to be that anymore.
So last year, with my husband (who had also put on significant sympathy weight… Yeah, we’ll go with that), I started exercising again. A month after that, I was diagnosed with type 2 Diabetes (good timing, body, cuz really…). It was really, really difficult to put it all together and change. But we now had to, it wasn’t a whim, it was a matter of life or… Well, crappy, shorter life. Eating, running, learning to say no to food I shouldn’t have, discovering my emotional eating habits… All while continuing to be a parent to two young children, maintain a full-time career, love a husband (whom I wanted to stay married to), a home to take care of…
It was nuts. Completely, utterly nuts.
But… It is working. I am now down 40 pounds in total, shrinking from a size 22 to a 14. I am no longer on Metformin (for now). My husband has lost well over 50 pounds, is a Crossfit addict, and ran a half marathon recently. I have completed a few 10ks, and some obstacle mud races, including Tough Mudder and a Spartan Sprint.
So here I am, on the Losing it in Ottawa blog, telling y’all my story. I still have a long way to go. I still have a butt-tonne (pun intended) of weight to lose, and just like so many, I struggle every day with my nutrition and mental capacity around my health.
So why am I here? Why blog about it?
There is a group of women associated with this blog that have made all the difference in my life, and I could not have gotten to where I am today in my fitness and health journey without their support. I was introduced to them in July last year, and immediately found a place where I was understood. My struggles were their struggles. From there, I have made friends that I run with, get together to do yoga with, and celebrate with when we achieve amazing things. We all fight with ourselves to eat well, sweat every day, balance our nutrition, and keep our attitudes positive. We all have families, jobs, and commitments that make our lives chaotic.
The women here are the real deal. I want to add my voice, to empower this place, as well as reach out to others who are maybe looking for a nudge too. I want to contribute to a community online that has meant the world to me. I want to reinvigorate my journey, to get stronger and healthier.
They say that losing weight can be one of the hardest things a person can undertake. But with the right people cheering you on, it can get easier for you, and them.
So, here I am, to share and hopefully, to encourage someone like I was, last year.
Let’s do this.