Fit to Fat or Fat to Fit?

2 Aug

After work yesterday, I just wanted to chill out for a little. Works been a little nutso the past few weeks so most days I need a hard ass-kicking workout for me to de-stress (crazy,) right?!

I got home to eat dinner with Gram; She made stuffed peppers and a side salad. It was pretty good but the whole day I didn’t really feel like eating. The only thing I felt like eating was ice cream.. And that I did Winking smile

After a quick dinner, I chilled out for a little and then got ready for the gym. I completed:

  • 2 mile run (5.1-5.5 speed/ 11:30 minute mile)
  • .25 walk
  • Sit ups with 10lb 25x
  • Right crunch 25x
  • Left crunch 25x
  • Leg Lifts 25x
  • :30 mountain climber
  • :30 push ups
  • :30 mountain climber
  • :30 push ups

I was only there for about an hour but I was ready to get out. My knee has been hurting me the past few weeks… Wayne suggested going to a professional to see what’s goin’ on with it. Let’s hope for the best!


So, I must admit something. I HATE weighing myself. In the past year, I’ve weighed myself maybe 5 times. Every time I’ve done this, I’ve hated myself. I couldn’t tell you how much I weigh, or what my goal weight it. I just don’t know, or care to know.

I get that it’s just a number. I understand that it’s just a  small (or large depending on your view of weight) number and it does not make you who you are. But how come every time I weigh myself, I want to scream?

Here’s some truth to hit you in the face. About a month or two ago, I was all done with my work out. I was sweaty and nasty but felt great! I felt smaller, leaner, stronger and faster. I decided to go jump on the scale and see if I could surprise myself. Welp, I did.

I stood on the scale and saw the number. Totally not what I was thinking my weight would be. It was about the same as when I never worked out! I got off the scale, and paced around the tiny locker room. I kept thinking “What am I doing wrong? What’s the deal?”. Did I have some medical problem with me? Was I not eating healthy enough, even though I know I was? Was I not working out enough, even though I went 5-6 days a week?

I went into a stall and just cried. I cried out of frustration and anger at myself. How could I let this stupid little number effect me to such great lengths? I WAS CRYING IN THE GYM BATHROOM FOR GOD’S SAKE!! This number had it’s hands around my neck! I decided that this behavior wasn’t healthy. Being upset because of my number was not healthy in the least. I knew I was doing the right thing. I gave up a lot of foods and added new foods into my diet. I was working out like a crazy person every day. I started researching what could be wrong with me, and finally just came to the conclusion…

The number does not make me, I make the number. I have realized my body does not work the way some others do. I retain muscle pretty well, and since boxing I was pumpin’ some serious iron. My number didn’t go down but my muscle tone was getting feisty! I knew I was doing work, I knew I was stronger than I ever have.

I realized I was doing everything right. I was working hard and feeling great about myself. My problem is I will never be satisfied with my NUMBER. But that number doesn’t effect who I am, or even how I look. If I’m satisfied with my body, I have to be satisfied with my number (even if I don’t know what it is!)

So, there’s my words of wisdom of weight. If you are eating the right foods and incorporating a healthy fitness regime, then don’t stress. You know you’re doing the right things… Just keep it up!



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