So school ended mid-July, and I have spent the last two weeks (1) working, (2) feeling inexplicably confused about why I don’t have a lot of shit to do, (3) adapting to my tremendous amount of free time by driving to Virginia Beach 3-4 times (lost count), (4) re-committing myself to personal goals, okay just one goal, weight loss. My entire life has been plagued by plump and weighted with the chains of being a food fanatic. I have spent my days trying to find excuses for why I am fat and/or reasons why it is okay to keep being fat. With an ever-impending diet commencement date (normally pushed back each Wednesday to the upcoming Monday) I had romanticized my perfect latest “Start Being Thin” date. I naturally assumed that when I moved to Richmond I would immediately being my new life, and in turn my new healthy lifestyle.
My first six months in Richmond had nothing to do with being healthy, although I somehow already made a deal with myself that this whole experience wouldn’t be worth it unless I also reached the height of my weight loss dreams. Once my birthday rolled around I realized I wasn’t getting any younger, and if I was going to do this I had better hurry up and start. This new opportunity and rekindled sense of motivation was quickly morphing into “that time I moved to Richmond to finally get my degree.” The spring and summer semesters had already quickly become a blur of papers and flash cards filled with facts that I had better remember for my future profession. Luckily my kick in the ass finally came when I received money to hire a personal trainer for a few sessions as a birthday gift from my constantly supportive parents. Shortly thereafter I met Danish.
Danish is a personal trainer and double major in Exercise Science and Psychology at the VCU gym. Unfortunately for Danish, a personal trainer trainee, and poor old me, I was about to be subjected to the rather unpleasant physical assessment. After the devastating reality of the scale, the BMI fat pinch test, and several pathetically strenuous physical tests (each followed by heart rate measurements) it was determined that I fall below average in every possible physical test, except for weight, where I turned out to be exceptionally above average. Lovely. Danish and I had a few sessions together. Each session was comprised of Danish trying to have conversations with me regarding his water rafting activities and the gifts he buys for his girlfriends. These adorable efforts at conversation were normally met by my attempts at keeping a steady face free from signs of exhaustion, shock, and dismay. I even once told Danish that he was a madman who enjoyed torturing people, to which he responded, “Yeah, and I get paid to watch.” I wasn’t that bad, the thing was I could actually exercise. My level of performance was significantly lacking, yet the body was in motion.
Not long after I began meeting with Danish I finally took myself to Ellwood Thompson’s Local Market near/in Carytown. It is strange, we all know that eating processed food is not only disgusting and horrible for your body and the environment, but somehow it is perfectly legal and less expensive. Ellwood Thompson’s is a “grocery store” that carries primarily locally grown produce and organic foods. I completely stopped eating fast food, with the exception of a Subway sandwich now and again, and I also haven’t had more than a few sips of soda since the beginning of June. I was feeling grand about my new eating habits and my commitment to physical activity.
Not long after these two developments did I discover the amazing Fat2Fit Radio podcast (www.fat2fitradio.com). Armed with my new trainer, organic market, and podcast obsession, I embarked on the journey of no-longer being fat. This is not the road less taken, less traveled, or less conquered. It is a road I know far too well. I have lost weight in significant amounts, once I even lost over 60 pounds. Ladies and gentleman, I now present to you: the problem. Losing weight, eating healthy, going for walks, hitting the gym, plugging into a podcast, keeping a food journal, counting calories, thinking positive, taking it day by day, saying no, making healthy decisions…I can do all of these things. I have done all of these things, and I have been successful. The problem however, is continuing to be successful, reaching a goal weight, and actually NOT gaining weight back. There is only one, teensy, weensy, itty, bitty difference between the Jessica Rosa of “then” and the Jessica Rosa of “now.” Modern day Jessica Rosa had identified her patterns, her pitfalls, her weaknesses, and her favorite opportunities to fail. Somehow I am more awake this time. I changed my mind about being fat on May 21, 2011. So far I have lost ten pounds. Which is a piss-poor accomplishment and I could have done a lot better. Yeah, yeah, yeah… it is still ten pounds, but I have failed several times in the last two months, one week, and one day. So now I can feel myself approaching that pivotal point where I fall flat on my face, give up, and start all over again six months from now. Or I suck it up, accept my failures, and try to improve upon them in the next two months, one week, and one day.
So what is going to make this time count? How can I ensure my success? How can I guarantee that this time I am going to reach my goal? I can’t. But I really want this. I have always really wanted this. I have imagined myself healthy, thin, and happy, but I have never actually allowed myself to experience it.
One little project this podcast gave me was to complete the following sentence: “I must achieve my fitness and weight loss goals because if I don’t…” The podcast people say that if you really wanted to be healthy and lose weight you had to come up with five ways to end the sentence, or you weren’t really ready. I came up with fourteen reasons in less than two minutes. Some of my reasons are extremely lame, personal, weird, shallow, archaic, and embarrassing to admit, but they are also the first things that honestly came to my mind. I don’t know why on earth I am actually sharing this information with people. I guess the “thin me” knows that the louder I say it, and the more often I say it, the more likely I might be to make it a reality. So here it goes.
“I must achieve my fitness and weight loss goals because if I don’t…
I will be horribly unattractive and fat forever.
I will never know what it feels like to look uncompromisingly amazing.
I will never know what it feels like to participate in physical activities for fun.
I will suffer physically by having higher chances of contracting and dying from several different diseases and illnesses.
I will never feel good about myself and I will always be insecure.
I will always tell myself that there are things I can’t do, even if I can do them.
One day, I will be a fat bride. (I really hate myself for this one.)
I will never know what it feels like to go for a run while thinking about life like they do in the movies.
I will always secretly know that other people think I am fat.
I will continue to feel disgusted every time I accidently catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, or see the results of an impromptu picture.
I will always be more terrified than everyone else on roller coasters.
My back will continue to hurt.
My knees will continue to hurt.
I will never truly be who I am inside.
Don’t judge me. I’ve got that part covered.
Rosa
