The skin I'm in... part 1

Indulge me for a moment, while I manifest the courage to say goodbye to the 'old body'...

In "two more workout days" I go in for my first-phase reconstructive body surgery.  That's the crazy label I've given it, because one surgery won't be enough, and my first-phase is all I can afford at the moment.

Today I've woken up with really flighty butterflies in my belly, and I'm feeling a tad sick. It was to be expected - but given I was quite smug last night, thinking I'd spent bulk of the week "uncharacteristically calm" - I realise now it was just the calm before the storm!

Last Monday was horrible - I think I'd over-dramatised the "one week from today" factor in my head, and woke up feeling like a giant was sitting on my chest, I could barely breathe...   Spent the rest of the week calm, collected, and then the excitement set in - I was just SO excited.

When I went to order my Bank Cheque to pay the surgeon on Wednesday, I took one enormous gulp and ran through the doors to have the teller draw the funds.  One of the staff saw me standing there waiting - she was the lady I'd dealt with when taking out a loan to buy my car - and when I explained I'd found one cheaper than my budget, it meant I could use the balance for my surgery (instead of eating into my surgery savings) and that it was happening on Monday - it really struck me what I was about to do.  I sat down at my desk on my return sweating like crazy but SO excited and happy!  I went to take a huge-grin selfie photo - and then lost it entirely, and sat there in tears instead!

The next day, I head off to the clinic to pre-pay the surgeon - and get the thumbs up all was scheduled and ready to go.  The phone call from the hospital to confirm, and my time to come in, what to wear, what to bring, what to eat....  oh my gosh, my head was spinning.

But I was SO, SO HAPPY.  This was really happening... I was about to "get rid of the belly skin!!!".


If you'd have asked me a few months ago how I was feeling about my body, my answer would have been less than diplomatic.  You only have to read my FB posts or blog to know this year has been less than "spectacular", and how disappointed and let down I feel after so much disciplined work.

I got jack of all the headgames and heartache that just seemed to be pulling me backwards... and if you know me, know my words - you'll know that backwards is NOT the direction I go.  It's "ALWAYS FORWARD" - always.

When the surgeon pulled out the forms a few months ago - nearly exactly a year after our first consultation - because I was beside myself with hatred, upset and "I just don't know what else to do!".... the mixed emotions that came with that "reprieve" were about to give me one hell of a run for my money.

The last few months I've been focused beyond belief - more than ever before.  I had a goal - a big one - and I simply wasn't willing to mess it up! It was the opportunity to make this right - to give myself a fighting chance against the 'backwards' and make sure I kept building on all the beautiful things that have been transforming over the last few years.

I simply wasn't about to let this skin I'm in destroy me.  No way.


I HATE that it's come to this - and here comes the conflicting headspace that I've been fighting the last few months!!   What hurts me is that I see no valid reason to cut a perfectly healthy body to pieces - I have trained SO hard the past three months, eaten so well, nurtured my body - and I have the changes to show it! (albeit under skin that I can't physically see... !!!!  Argh!).    ... but when I stand in front of the mirror and have to SEE what this body looks like after all that stellar effort, it hurts.  It stings.  I look like people's "before photo" - not someone whose literally halved herself in a quest to completely change the direction of her life.  GIVE herself a life.

I've had people say to me "you're so lucky" and "I wish it was me!" - and whilst there's no malice or negativity behind the comments - I guess for me, the bigger picture (the 25+ years of fighting obesity, self-hatred, self-destruction) - I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy!  My first-phase reconstructive surgery won't FIX all my issues - it certainly won't take them away or erase them out of my heart...   It's just superficial - an extreme way of trying to create future potential and possibilities that are still eluding me.  It's certainly no "means to an end"  - and it's not the "reward" I'd once thought it'd be when I'd hit my goal ("goal" .... even that word makes me cringe these days...!)

No, this whole thing has become something different to me.  There's an element of FREEDOM that comes with this one - and just acknowleding this at the moment is making me upset....  This afternoon I go for my final Pump gym class - and already the prospect of doing my final pushups with bellyskin hovering just a couple inches off the floor has me in tears.   (#Argh!  I'm SO gonna cry at the gym this arvy.... haha!).   The prospect of being able to wear a pair of pants that actually FIT - I've never been able to wear pants! (I HATE stretch pants, they do nothing for my roundness!!!)   The thought that when I sit down, I don't have to pull my bellyskin into a comfortable position....  Being able to do a starjump and not have the after-shock of follow-through skin to embarass me.  Possibly not having to worry about the under-belly sweat running down my legs on a really hot day, and trying - ashamedly - to hide it (the heatwave that's just hit was a cruel reminder of that one).    Maybe, someday, being able to look at myself in the mirror and actually being able to like what I see. (I'll put a TBC on that - that's a huge one, I don't have an end date on that, if ever).



In taking stock of what's happened in the past - what's happened during my changes - and what's about to happen... it hit me last night, the 'fear' that I hadn't actually acknowledged....  It just took a while to come to the surface.

The surgery doesn't scare me - bring on the scalpels I say (minor eep!).  The prospect of "what happens after" is still swirling in my head - the fears of what I don't know or how to be this person in a body this size that I've never been privy to...  it's still scary, but not paralysing.  I even came to a calming conclusion that I was actually somewhat OK with those things!!

No, it was the "saying goodbye" to the skin thing.  I'm an extremely sentimental girl - probably somewhat freakishly (haha) - I take a great deal of meaning in little things - moments in time - the whole works.  I find it incredibly hard to part with 'things' that mean something to me - and I guess the skin is no different. God, it's been attached to me for 33 years for crying out loud - it's not something I'd just "discard" without at least a few tears, right?!!

But I think it goes beyond the heart-strings here...   My skin has protected me - it's shielded me.  Through all the yucky times, and the redevelopment process - it's looked after me.  It's the 'armour' - it's kept me safe.  While the girl inside has been changing - learning - getting more confident and brave enough to stand up and be seen - my skin has been shielding me, covering me, giving me the time to change.

What happens when you take away your 'security blanket'?    I'm really disappointed in myself that it's taken me this long to recognise this - that it isn't my SKIN that's made me hate myself here...  It was an easy excuse, and easy out - far easier to blame what I can SEE than acknowledge that inside, there's this fragility and fear I'm still working through. 

My SKIN is what's kept me honest and accountable this year - it's the reason I pulled rank on my shitty eating habits and the 'it's all too hard!' mentality and put on 8 kgs over winter - when I had my breakdown and was forced to reevaluate who I am NOW (versus who I was in the past).  My SKIN bore brunt of the blame for the backwards self-hatred spiral - and yet it was the REASON I pushed through and fought harder, to turn it around.   I always thought it was a horrible reminder of all the bad times, the negativity and the disappointment - but I think I was very wrong....

I'm HUMBLED by the skin I'm in - we may not see eye to eye sometimes, but it's been my godsend after all. Saying goodbye to that is incredibly hard - and not for the reasons I'd assumed for so long.  This has been a LONG TIME COMING - and starring down the barrel of what's about to happen in just two days....  far out, I knew the tears were coming... but I certainly didn't see this little revelation coming!!

So, what do you do when you're about to say goodbye?!  Where does it go when they cut it off?  Does it just go in the bin?!!   Do I have to have a funeral for my skin?!  How do I pay my respects to a part of me that's been so pivotal in turning my life around?! 

Maybe I need to ponder that some more...   I have two whole days to do that.


Breathe.... !!

Permission to be proud

I don't really know where the last twelve months has gone - it's mid October, and I'm currently in preparation for my "next chapter" - I feel like I'm holding my breath in anticipation of what this means or what happens next, but it's meant that I've been 'reevaluating' what's happened in the past year that's lead me to this point.

My surgery is only a few weeks away - and yesterday I pushed myself to go and do my mandatory 'bloods' (so they have something to compare against later, and check that I'm healthy etc) and then filled out the hospital form and emailed it in late last night. I've had to do these since late August, just wasn't quite ready….   Booking this in officially was my next major step to making this a reality, and it's taken me a good few weeks to get it together enough to do it.

Prior to talking to the Surgeon I questioned whether I deserved the help, whether I was just opting-in for an "easy way out", and I was petrified that surgery wouldn't give me the answers or results that I need. As it turned out, it'd been nearly twelve months since I'd seen him last, and my weight hadn't changed - but so much else had, and with so many beautiful new things in my life, they were being undermined by the sheer hatred I have for the body I've been left with. Unfortunately.  The skin had contributed to so many negatives, that it was pulling me backwards… the strategy, then, became surgery to help me push forward. 


The last twelve months has proven to be my hardest year yet - and it makes my head spin at the thought of what's happened in such a short space of time. In terms of weightless: nada, zilch, nothing - I've just gone up and down, backwards and forwards in the same 10kilos bracket. Over winter, I stacked the weight on found myself quickly heading back up to the 110kgs mark - but have pulled that all back off since, and turned my physical fitness around 150%.  In terms of 'life' - well it's thrown me around like never before - but I won't say it's without merit. I've had some beautiful experiences, I've had some hurtful moments - there's been tears and tantrums… and yet I'm still here, I'm still moving.

Yet I found myself the last few weeks still unable to find solace in the positives of this - even after pulling my stubborn head in, asking for help, and turning things around - I still couldn't find my pride. Somewhere along the line, I'd stopped being proud - shunned myself for the things I'd achieved - I let people take it away from me with their comments and criticisms - I'd lost the energy to contend with it all. I was embarrassed to talk about my achievements, I stopped taking photos, I stopped writing and sharing, helping and being happy, I started hiding again. I let the negatives win, and I lost my pride….



Mid this year I had a major breakdown - it wasn't pretty and it did its damage - but it taught me a lesson too (as things always tend to!).  When I sought help from my Naturopath recently for my emotional imbalances - driven in there by my sheer fear that I was reverting to the old depression days - she had me fill our three hefty questionnaires to judge what was happening, and figure out what impact it was having on my body. The month prior to this I'd been working with my Kinesiologist, who'd basically already told me my body was buggered because of my emotions - they were working against one another, feeding off each other in a negative way. I was going in circles and there wasn't much I could do about it!  But that was the whole point in seeking their help - I can't physically SEE what's happening to my insides, and I needed their help and guidance.  I knew my emotions were shot, but something wasn't right since the breakdown, and it went further than just what was going on in my head!  My body was breaking down, I could just feel it.

My Naturo put me on some tablets for anxiety - she said she wasn't surprised I was as highly strung as I have been the past year, considering how depleted I am emotionally and physically with all the changes the past five years, and the decade prior to that…  She's worked with me in the past - helped turn around a few of my weird ailments (my superior stress levels when I quit my job; my toxicity a couple years ago from the weightloss. She's helped me before, and I went straight in to have her help again).  The Kinesiologist's "magic potion" had been working on helping my organs with the stress and get me functioning properly, internally, again - the Naturo's tablets and mix were to calm my head.  I felt the difference the next day…. !


The last few weeks have been a MASSIVE turn around. I no longer feel like I'm walking on eggshells, and I feel like I can breathe. I forced myself to seek help (I'm a stubborn Taurean, I don't ask for help unless I have to!) - but I bit the bullet, and asked… and I'm so very proud of myself for doing that.

Enter the transition phase of "finding my pride".  As I move into this next chapter - my surgery phase - I knew straight out that this was going to be one of the hardest things for me to do.  Hell, just booking the appointment was a task in itself - and it all boils down to the emotions and my headspace.  Since I booked, I simply haven't looked back.  Yes, I've stalled a couple of times, I've had a cry, I've questioned and had to take a few deep breaths… but I haven't looked back.

So much has happened - POSITIVELY - in the past month, that I'm walking with my head held high again. My training is spot on - I issued myself a "50 days of fitness" challenge to keep myself honest and on track - and 25 days in, I've been working hard at it ever since and already see the physical difference, hit new monster PBs and I haven't even hit my stride yet!

My food intake has been better - now that I'm not EATING my emotions every day (the curse of being an emotional overeater - happy, sad, scared, bored… you name it - I'll eat my emotions… Emotional imbalance = food festival, and is seriously BAD for results!!). I won't say I get a gold star on the food just yet, but there's far more control here than there's been for MONTHS, and I'm a little proud of myself for that. I'll need that control when I'm in recovery-mode and can't train the way I usually do - so it's very much on my agenda at the moment to get a handle on it all

And as for my head….  ahhhh, all good things come to those who wait - or more importantly, those who diligently work on it!  I'm in a MUCH happier, healthier place than I've been for a while - it's meant that I've poked my head out of isolation and I'm "revisiting" the things that used to make me happy - instilled a sense of pride in what I was doing.  Little things - like writing this blog (!), taking photos (god help you all, I'm back to all the "selfies" again… haha!) - finding and booking in new activities to plan my year ahead, and happily thinking 'futuristically'.


My health and fitness are BEAUTIFUL right now - that is my ultimate goal pre-surgery - to be at my fittest and healthiest….  but that was to include my mental state too - and that has a strategy aswell. I certainly haven't gone into this without a plan, and I'm PROUD of myself for doing it this way - for stepping up and asking for help and following through with it.

I have no doubt that the next few weeks ahead are going to be a little rough, and I have those butterflies in the pit of my stomach starting to jiggle around at the prospect of the last countdowns…. but I'm gearing up now for the next chapter, and what it means. 

I feel like I have a world of expectations on this surgery - subconsciously holding out for everything "beautiful" to just magically happen after this bit of skin is gone… but the realist in me says I need to stop dreaming like that.  I've put so much on hold in the past based on me still feeling "freaky" in this left-over body, and it's done nothing but burn me for the past year.  It hurts, and bulk of that lies on ME and my response to it.  I need to take some responsibility for letting that turn negative…

My body isn't foul - it's wonderful. It's amazing what it overcomes - the torture I put it through (literally, I did a lap of Mount Panorama with 16kgs on my back on Sunday - my glutes are STILL giving me hell about it, haha!)… and yet all the crap I've put into my system, all the neglect, the torment…. it's still fighting with me. 


That's my goal now - to stop putting pressure on my body and love it "just as it is" - because when I part ways with this belly skin in December, I'll be saying goodbye to something that's been with me for 33 years.  I'm nostalgic and melodramatic at the best of times (haha!) - but it's true.  I shouldn't be wishing this away, I should be celebrating what it's meant to me, what it's done for me, who it's made me…  I need to convert the negative stigma into something beautiful, NOW, before it's gone.  I need to be PROUD of my skin, and I need to have pride enough to say goodbye, and say thank you with a smile on my face. 

That's my goal in the next few weeks…. transition back into being PROUD.  Proud of who I am, of what I've overcome, of the things I've achieved, of where I'm going.  I give myself permission to be proud… and I bloody well better start believing it.  The clock's ticking… !

Finding that "Old Amy Mojo"

Well it's Monday, and it's officially the start of Week Four of the 1 Million Kilo Challenge, and Week Two of the 12WBT. Sitting here quite deflated this morning, and I'm a little bit upset about it - the scales and I are at loggerheads. I'm quite a pro at riding the up and downs of weightloss - 4 years of this torture, and the head games that go with letting one ridiculous number dictate your mood - I KNOW better... but today it just feels a little too hard...

Last week was one of my most amazing weeks in this new transition phase of "Finding Amy" - I literally started the week in tears. Valentine's Day. Yeah, need I say more?!   If you read my post from Valentine's Day last year (and quite frankly, I'm not prepared to read it again...), well, it's pretty much the same - just another year later.  THAT is what hurts the most - the void in my life right there hurts every day, but this one day of the year, it's just overly exaggerated, overly intense. It's just everywhere - knew it was coming (no shortage of crap commercialisation everywhere you'd turn!) - so was gearing myself up the few days before it to make sure I could "handle it, without too much issue".

Big FAIL. Woke up, had a text message to say "hope you're ok" - lost it entirely, had my cry, went back to sleep. Woke up, tried again, failed, had another cry, dragged my sorry arse out of bed and had a shower, had another cry...  UGH! Rinse and repeat?!

Anyhoos, needless to say, my day pretty much flat-lined emotionally. I don't care so much about flowers or chocolates - hell, you can buy nice flowers at Aldi for $5 - that's what I did last year!!  No, it's more about losing another year to 'solitude' - I vowed to myself last year that I wouldn't go through this again, that I wouldn't feel this upset or broken. When I woke up and realised I was right back there again, I was just plain hurt that I'd done it to myself... again! It's SO easy for me to shy away from people - it's a trait I've had from childhood - if you hide, you can get hurt, right?!  Wrong...

I was so highly strung by Tuesday afternoon, I sat here about ready to tear my hair out, berating myself for being worthless and causing my own issues; hating my body because THAT must be the reason why I'm so lonely (!!! - don't say a word...); and cranky at my world - again. I sat here at my desk, and watched the clock roll by, closer and closer to my scheduled RPM gym class - I'd even put my shoes and HRM on ready to go, trying to fight the emotions - but the tears were too strong, and I just sat here and cried again, wanted to scream, then let out a loud (sorry neighbours!) "Fu#k you gym!" and flat out refused to go because "it's not helping me anyway"... right?!

Wrong. I instantly stood up, grabbed my keys and towel and walked out the front door to the gym before I had a chance to even slightly think about it again - I was that upset already, there was NO point in the guilt-trip that was already brewing in my head, and the next set of tears that were like a swollen river about to burst through at any second...

Worst RPM performance EVER - but I went. I couldn't look at anyone, I couldn't really talk. I was churning so bad inside, I wanted to vomit. I couldn't breathe, my chest and eyes were stinging. I hated every minute of it - and not because it was exercise (I LOVE LOVE LOVE my RPM classes usually) but because I hated everything in my world, and the 'hate' was winning...  I hate THAT more than anything else, that's the "old Amy"s headspace, and I was shattered that it was so strong.

I walked home post-RPM mellow, but ok. The 'hurt' part was in decline - the day was nearly over - but the anger was starting to rise up instead. Yep, I'd let this one stupid day ruin what should have been another "new day" in my "here and now". By the time I made it home, I'm sure I was growing frown lines the size of canyons, and it was brewing really bad in the pit of my stomach.

A phone call later that night from a concerned friend - lots of tears and a tantrum later - just being able to verbalise why I was hurting so much (which is VERY hard for me to do - I usually talk through my fingers), and not because of the lonely factor, but because of my self-hatred for my body, the hatred I have for what I've done to my life (etc etc - I can't really pinpoint all the reasons) - with someone who understands WHY I feel this way about myself, without questioning, or berating me for being "silly" - was enough to calm me down, and let me breathe again...

I'm a pretty emotional person anyway - clearly - but when you're fighting past demons, fighting for a life you never even wanted, fighting against things you can't necessarily change... it's exhausting! There's no right or wrong answer to weightloss - but it's NEVER been just about losing kilos for me. It's about finding who I'm supposed to be, and making ME believe that I have a reason to still be here. You get to a point where you're so overloaded with emotions and internal conflict - where, in the past, I'd have just let it consume me - I can't let it do that now, but by god, it puts me through hell trying to fight through it.

... but I do. And I know I'm capable of that.  The last few years of breakdowns and breakthroughs have taught me that. As upset and hurt as I am "at the time", there's always reason behind it - and it always drives me to push further and try harder - so that I'll appreciate these beautiful things I'm missing, when they DO come into my life. I can't take them for granted, because I've had to work my arse off to have them in the first place... so I fight for them.


Woke up on Wednesday with an entirely new chapter at my disposal.... like the day of turmoil beforehand had come and gone like a bad storm - but the rain had washed my "space" clean again. I was back on track, eating well and went off to my scheduled Aqua class that night in a really calm, happy place. Did my class, with additional laps thereafter, and left recommitted and focused.

The rest of the week just grew from there - like something had clicked back into place, and I'd found a little spark of the "old Amy mojo" that used to be there!

Thursday I hit the gym for my RPM class (no tears this time!), then, as a total first (as RPM usually smashes me!) hit the treadmill for intervals thereafter - 25mins of fast walk/jogs and I even hit my highest ever 11kms/hr sprints! I was SO excited by that - I wasn't just jogging, I was RUNNING on that crazy treadmill, like a skinny person!!! I bounced home, and wasn't done yet! Walked through my front door, then right out the back door and jumped on the cross trainer for another 10mins, just because I could - and maxed out my calorie burn for the day over 1000!  I was ECSTATIC!!  It's the first time I've had the energy or inclination to hit a huge session like that in over 10 months - not since I burnt myself out with the Commando Challenge have I been able to do it since...  I felt AMAZING!

Woke up Friday morning on a total high - hit the gym by 9am for two brand new classes (I'd issued myself the challenge the night before - do I dare try new classes?!  HELL YEAH!!) - and tried the new Core Challenge class, and a Lite Pace aerobics class thereafter. Feeling SO good over the course of the day, I ended up running out the door in the afternoon for ANOTHER session - two laps of my river (about 5.5kms) - and nearly hit another 1000cals day for the effort!

In between all the training sessions, I was pumping out awesome food from the kitchen too - with the 1MKC really re-inspiring me to hit the cooking; and hitting all my client jobs in the middle - I was well and truly on a roll!  My week had TOTALLY turned itself around - and I was just riding the wave of sheer liberation, and LOTS of emotional relief!

Saturday was no different - I was on an absolute MISSION!  It takes A LOT for me to hit those 1000cals burn sessions these days - but I had the fire in my belly and had conquered a few pretty big demons over the course of the week.

Decided in my "infinite wisdom" that I should issue myself another personal challenge - and hit a "triple threat" sweat session on Saturday with a little gung-ho feisty passion I haven't seen come out in Amy in a really, really long time!!

I hit my Pump class (with my maximum weights on all areas) - followed by my new Body Balance class (that I'd only tried for the first time the week before!) - followed by a lap of Mount Panorama!!

Hitting the Mount, quarter of the way around, the rain drops start hitting me in the face... By the time I'd climbed to the top, it was pouring - but I had the biggest bloody smile on my face as I hit a jog across the top - the raindrops pelting me (mercilessly) in the eyes!!  On the decline, I took up my usual jog (albeit a little slower, given the slippery factor) and jogged the length of the decline, racing the water running down the edges of the track - rain streaming down my face, my shoes were totally drenched, my music player died, I couldn't see through the rain - it was the most AMAZING FEELING and I was absolutely loving it!!!   Funnily enough, I wasn't the only idiot out there at the time (haha) and the guy on the other side of the track who jogged the length of it parallel to me, I raced him down to the finish!  I STILL managed my course in my lowest ever PB time, despite the heavy waterlogged joggers squishing under my feet!!!  It was just plain AWESOME!

Three hours later, over 1000cals burnt - drenched to the absolute core... I felt ALIVE!  THIS has got to be what living is all about, right?!    I was LOVING it - and by god, I want MORE!!!


Sunday rolled around, and I'm off on - yet another - new challenge!  More "new" to add to my repertoire - Dragon Boating!  After such an intense training week, my poor little stiff and sore body "should" have been in Sunday rest mode - but I'd said yes to going out there with a couple of my local 12wbt ladies - and (as per my self-imposed declaration that I should stop hiding away from the world and opportunities - courtesy of the start of the week's "I've lost another year" reflection and tears) - out to Chifley Dam I went!  An hour later, my shoulders were were telling me I'd done alot more work than what my piddly little "220cals burnt" reading said - and this morning, the bones in my butt are VERY much telling me that I'm not the size I used to be (not enough padding for wooden benches, hahaha!!).   As for Dragon Boating - LOVED IT - and very much looking forward to doing more of it!  That's my third time 'paddling' - and that kayak of mine (that was bought about a year ago now, and STILL hasn't seen water yet!!) - needs to stop resting against the wall - it's now on the "near future" agenda to launch that baby!


... As for my mood this morning. Well, I'm a little disappointed in myself.  After such an amazing week - fighting through the hurt and finding myself rejoicing for so much "new" and rejoicing in finding a taste of that "old Amy mojo" - I'm disappointed that I've let the scales overrule that this morning.

I see it ALL the time with others - myself included - where we let one stupid, absolutely meaningless number on a set of scales override all those beautiful feelings and "wins" - just because the numbers "don't comply".  I know all my work will probably show up - later - and clearly all that work I put in last week was more for the benefit of my SOUL rather than the freaking scales... I know this, I've got this!  I'm better than this bullshit...

SO - I'm giving myself the "SUCK IT UP" and "pull your head in" cards today. Back to focusing on really good food (and not overindulging - nor self-sabotaging... both of which crept in last week because of the emotions)  - and I'm issuing myself more challenges again this week, in light of how AMAZING I felt for it last week!

I have Pump and Body Balance again tonight - and already aligning the rest of my week to look similar to what I pulled last week - and I'm stepping out of my comfort zone again by the weekend, with a social night out with my local 12wbt girls (many of which I haven't met before - that's always really really hard for me... I'm still very shy, still very reserved, still very insecure...).

No more pity-party for one over here - it ends the minute I click 'post' on this blog.  I want more of that amazing feeling I had last week - it's infectious - reconnecting with that "Old Amy Mojo" is my number one priority this week.  The scales can get stuffed!!

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I found this pic this morning - when I was sitting here trying to fight the negatives... and I couldn't agree more, so wanted to share!  I CHOOSE TO BE HAPPY - because it DOES make me feel alive!!  That's what this is all about, after all!

Lost...

Wrote this one last week while I was away on holidays.....  It reads somewhat like a diary entry - I guess it literally was?!  Me sitting with a notepad (for lack of blog availability) and writing out my thoughts...

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You know it's a pretty sad state of affairs when you have that realisation that despite having nowhere to go, noone to see, nowhere to be... you actually realise just how truly lost you are underneath the daily grinds of jobs, schedules, deadlines, expectations... etc etc.

Having set out on yet another sweaty-adventure recently - my City 2 Sea 14kms in Melbourne - with my sister and "Super Twin" Lynda in tow, I was in a little denial about what this 'get out of town' card truly was.

For a few months I've been harbouring the start of "doubt" - filtering through the thought system like a cancer - threatening to undo my focus and unleash havoc - but I've held strong and stayed on track. My City 2 Sea challenge always my beacon ahead keeping me in check.

For weeks I'd been training up for the day - my fitness is at an all time high. I've been a regular gym-junkie; paraded myself multiple times over Mount Panorama, even brutalised the feet with two stints of a 10-12kgs backpack on my shoulders to make it harder / up the intensity and endurance. I even hit a double-lap of the Mountain before I left on my Melbourne trip a few days before, just to push it into my head how ready I really was.

By the time I made it to Melbourne, I WAS running on pure excitement. I left Bathurst in a hurry. Finalised a few jobs, put the others 'on hold' and ran out the door.

As addicted to these fun-runs as I am, it wasn't the only driving force behind fleeing my life...

I needed a break. From everything. A change of scenery, a change of pace, new sights, challenges, faces... the works.

And running off to do a 14kms fun-run was ample excuse enough! The City 2 Sea itself was FABULOUS!!   ... and I was super happy with my "1hr 57mins" time. I walked (albeit shuffled) away with my medal, a very happy girl.

... until a couple days later. After both my sister and Lynda left, I was left to my own devices.

... and it was then that I realised just how lost I truly was. Having finished the goal that had been my driving force for the past couple months, left me a little abandoned, quite winded.

No pressing client deadlines, no full-time internet access (which takes up SO much of my time usually - responding to emails and questions; looking after my FB page; keeping in contact with everyone)...  I had no commitments and my 'reason' for the trip was already complete!

I felt completely lost.

It rattled me. It's a really horrible feeling not knowing where you want to be - what you want to do. Feeling completely obsolete - it hurt to the core!!

I was given the keys to my Auntie's car and told I could basically come and go as I pleased. What a weird feeling to have - there with all the freedom in the world and I had no idea what to do with it!  (Ironic really, I'm self-employed, live on my own, no ties... I already DO have all the freedom in the world, and still feel 'obligated' elsewhere)...

I've never had that confidence or curiosity enough to jump in the car and "just go somewhere" - I'm a planner and things like that I've actually avoided from sheer lack of confidence in myself.

Butterflies in my tummy told me that I was questioning my ability to drive anywhere - yet the possibility of actually doing something new "just for me" was almost overwhelming!!

"Have GPS - will travel?!!"

Jumped in the car today and managed to find my way to my grandpa's house on my own (... a necessity!  After all, I had the dessert for lunch, haha!)

Jumping back in the car later, a trip around the Geelong CBD and beyond, and I was almost "cocky" driving around like I knew where I was going and had some reason to do it!!!

A walk around the local area on my own, and I was pretty chuffed! Not bad for the girl with no sense of direction, no confidence to do these things in 'unknown locations'....

Hitting the beach in swimmers and boardies... wearing a singlet to the supermarket... walking into the plaza and going clothes shopping, "just like a normal person"....  oh my god...  I can't even begin to explain how liberated I felt! It was empowering! My first ever holiday that I actually felt like I existed!!!    (... and how ironic that I was struggling with feeling so irrelevant...!!)



I came on my adventure knowing I'd left behind a wad of nagging questions about my future...  I knew "I wasn't quite right" but really hadn't taken the time to acknowledge it in its entirity.

Wasn't until I felt "completely lost" from my lack of pressing commitmets that I realised the lack of substance that all these commitments actually were hiding...

THIS was my universe telling me it's time to sort myself out. Get some structure and goals into place. Put into practice new adventures and challenges so I DO have "somewhere to go and a reason to get there" - my future.  The one I've been trying to believe in since I started my life transformation...

Without that, you're stagnant. Going nowhere, and having nothing to keep you moving ahead.

Big decisions on the horizon - do I uproot myself from the "comfortable security" of my everyday current life?  - go in search of the things I'm still missing??  Or do I step it up with what I already love in the place I feel most comfortable in and keep building on what I've done so far...

Time to ask the big questions. There's so much more to this huge life transition than just my weightloss...  It just feels so empty now.

I've opened the floodgates... must be time to get out there and make waves?!

-------------------- 

SO as it turned out, a couple days later I did a SECOND fun-run - Run Geelong, for 12kms - on my own... and absolutely loved every kilometre of it!   I completed this run in about 1hr 35mins and smashed out so many running intervals, I was absolutely STOKED!  It wasn't pre-planned, just heard about it while we were in town visiting the relatives, and had to do it - because that's now what I do!

The week off between events - and the break it gave my body - paid off.  I came home feeling reenergised and raring to go.  Taking a 'break' from reality was a strategic move - I needed OUT from my world for a while....Coming home after, I felt like I'd actually achieved that!

I'd "calmed" the soul and soothed the lingering questions - was all set to get myself back into my business, and put the weightloss "job" aside for a while. Give my body and head a break - and really teach myself how to LIKE the body I am in, appreciate it "as it is" and the person I've become...

 -------------------- 

A little note to self I typed on my phone on the drive home...  

Learning to be 'normal'...  I just want to be normal.  I don't plan on being a SLAVE to this weightloss thing for the rest of my life... I see it in other people, the things they say and how they talk about themselves and their weight - and it verges on obsession. I don't want to be the person that's always fluffing on about the food I eat, what exercise I do - there's much more to AMY than what the scales say, what I weigh, how many calories I've eaten today, what size clothing label is sewn into my collar....

My little trip away has been great for me - made me realise how much I DON'T want to obsess like that for the rest of my life...  how much more "alive" I feel just being me!  So much wasted time and nonsensical whinging about something that will ALWAYS come and go. My body and I will be working on this for life - so be it - but I don't want to be a slave to it forever...  Driving me insane with the constant anxiety of what a set of scales says!! 

I want balance and flexibility.  I want to be healthy and fit.  I want to be STRONG.  I want to feel beautiful in my skin.  I want to be loved and to love myself.  I want to be ME - not an invalidated statistic... 

--------------------

I thought I'd found my sense of reasoning again...  but the Universe had other plans....


Am currently in an "emotional limbo" right about now...  my heart is broken.  Not yet ready to go into specifics on the public platform here - but I'm shattered with what's happened since I came home...

Just when you think you're 'ok' (and you've spent the better part of the entire week trying to learn how to do that...) - it doesn't take much to derail you again.

.. fighting the 'lost' feeling...   I know I'm far too stubborn to let it win, but by god it drains you....

Changing the goalposts...

I DID IT!  7.5kms in 55:40 during yesterday's Bathurst Jog!  I didn't actually set out for a particular time - in fact, I had no idea what I was in for (what's new!). It was the first time I'd participated in this local event, and only my second attempt at a fun run (the first being the City 2 Surf just a few weeks ago - as per the previous blog post).

It wasn't until I came through the last turn and headed up the last few metres of the course, spotted the monster clock above the finish-line, that it suddenly dawned on me that I'd pulled a new PB!   A BIG PB too - normally my hour yields about 5-5.5kms...  here I'd just hooned through an additional 2kms and did the entire 7.5kms (including a heart-busting hill or two) under an hour and bulk of it I had JOGGED!!

All the training I've put in the last couple of months is paying off!  My fitness is FANTASTIC!  Despite the wonky hips and sore knees today (that's a given - they're still getting used to the jogging) - my endurance for running is fast improving!  I've been building my distance up gradually, and any time I feel my knees whinge, I back it off to my (maniac) fast walking again, just so I don't provoke injury.  My 'smart girl' tactics are paying dividends!!

.... and I have another 9kms on the agenda!  Off to do the Sydney Bridge Run this weekend, and I'm freaking excited!!!!   What can I say... I'm addicted?!

For a girl who couldn't even walk a few metres up the block from her house just a few years ago - shame, anxiety, severe lack of fitness - for me to participate in events like this is nothing short of LIBERATING!!  I forget, "in the moment", just what it is that I'm doing and how profoundly different it is for me - even just being part of a large crowd like that is severely different for the girl who preferred to hide in her house, least of all strutting her stuff in a singlet top (another WIN) and "look at me" runners... and gallivanting down the road with 1600 other crazy enthusiasts!!!

It makes me feel ALIVE!!   ... and the great big grin on my face said it all!  Both before AND after the run!   I AM IN LOVE WITH THE NEW ME!!!




... which brings me to my moment of reflection - POST ACHIEVEMENT - and what's in store for the next 12 weeks.

As some of you know, and as my Aim Train facebook group are aware, I've joined the 12wbt this round and we've just kicked off our next 12 weeks worth of challenges!   .... However, I signed up with some reservations and hesitation...

Coming off the back-end of the previous few months and winter - the gain and the severe mental shutdowns, tantrums and body breakdowns - I was SERIOUSLY reluctant to align myself with any sort of time frame that was going to create even more pressure. 

I'm still not 'ok'....   I'm still struggling to get my head around all the changes, all the publicity, and all the 'expectations' I've put on myself!

Never did put a time frame on all this in the past - and doing that in the last few months has proven highly UNSUCCESSFUL!

The thing is, despite that, I'm not finished.  I still have work to do and a way to go... but for the first time in this whole mission of mine, my new goals aren't KILO related. It really doesn't come down to that this time.

Nope.  I've moved the goalposts. 


I've been deliberating over this for a while now...  It's not something I've been speaking about publicly - there's a lot of beautiful people out there who look to me to keep them moving forward, motivated and who need to see 'possibility'... and I'm well aware of how influential my "backing out of the game" can be.   Rest assured, I'm not doing that!  ;)

Nope, this one's a bit more profound than that.  It's a biggie.

For the first time... well... in forever (?!) I'm actually OK with my weight.  I'm HAPPY.  I'm seriously HEALTHY.  I'm maintaining without an issue - I eat like a horse and elephant combined, I've stopped counting calories, I work my arse off and I'm super merry - and I've knocked my winter gain on the head and happily maintained "without pressure" for the last few weeks.

...THAT in itself is a shock to the system!

My body is cruising quite happily along at the moment - and *I* am HAPPY!

*key point*


The more that this has happened, the less inclination I have to actually ruin this beautiful thing I have going on...  whatever it is?!

My entire life should NOT just be about weightloss, kilos, calories and number crunching (just the thought of it makes my heart sink and my brain ache).   *I* am worth more than what those scales say. YES they are part of my new lifestyle.  YES they are reshaping the new Amy.  YES I'm addicted to it and love what it's done for me... but NO, this is NOT what my whole entire life boils down to!


It's NOT feeding my heart and soul anymore...

I moved the goalposts.

I don't think it was intentional - more a natural progression.  Either way, they moved.


Suddenly, a "goal weight" seems ridiculous to me.  It's not feasible - it doesn't DEFINE when I'll be happy - if that was the case, then I'm still about "twenty excess kilos unhappy" and that's utter bullshit!!!

Suddenly I've gone from having 3.5 years of traumatic vision, where EVERYTHING was so brutally focused and hinged on the scales - it's like I'd put everything 'on hold' because I let myself believe everything would fall into place when I was thin - and hey, guess what?!  It's crap!   Your life does NOT just miraculously eventuate because you lost some kilos - I've had to WORK for everything - happiness included!!   EVERYTHING all hinged on my weightloss..  and now, it just seems RIDICULOUS!


NOW, I want LIFE.  I want friends and social activities, I want holidays and travel, I want to allow myself the beautiful things and moments in life that I've missed out on... I want love.  I want pure happiness.  I want AMY.  

I don't want scales.  I don't want counting calories.  I don't want sweating until I puke because I'm trying to be like people 30kilos lighter.  I don't want to be so intertwined with weightloss that it undermines all the other things I can't see because my blinkers are so tightly affixed to my head all I can see is my numbers!   STUFF THE NUMBERS!!!

I deserve more.  I've EARNT more.   I will NOT be a person who lives their life defined by their love-hate relationship with a set of incidental scales!!!   They're a piece of NOTHING - my heart, soul, body and life deserve better!


The goalposts have well and truly moved.


I don't know what my "ultimate number" is now - quite frankly, I don't care!  I have excess skin to contend with yet (and I'll deliberate and discuss more in time - surgeon's appointment ahead).  I'm in the process of building serious muscle (am now addicted to weights) which does nothing but do my head in when I see up and down discrepancies on the scales because of it - but am seriously IN LOVE with the way it's changing my shoulders and physique!   It's getting messy and AWESOME all at once, and the numbers are pissing me off!  The scales are cruel, cold and manipulative - they no longer warrant my attention. 

I'm hovering just under 100kilos at the moment, post-winter gain, post-breakdown.  ... but I'm so freaking fit, healthy and HAPPY right now, do I really care anymore what those scales say?!!   There's more to this, and there's more coming...  !

My goals are now fitness and fun related - the next 12 weeks I'm going even harder!!   I want more Pump classes and muscle, I want to resculpt this body (surgically AND sweat enhanced) and I'll be hitting more and more of these social sweaty events, because they make me feel ALIVE!

I. AM. ALIVE.   
.... and it's about fkng time I got out there and enjoyed it! 

I'm DONE waiting for my life to start "when I get skinny."   Bugger off!!!   The goal posts for THAT were never feasible, it's just taken me a long time to see how shallow that truly is.  

Nope, things have definitely changed... 
*I* have changed.  ... and irrespective of where I go from here, those bloody goalposts better keep on moving!! 

I want MORE!!!


(... oh my god, I love when I get feisty!  hahahaha!!!!)

BRING ON THE NEXT 12 WEEKS BABY!!!   (... but sorry, scales, you're not invited!)

So what if you're NOT an exercise machine...

Now, if you ARE an exercise machine, killing serious cals in your workouts, do about a gazillion gym sessions each week, running out your door and bragging about your multiple-workouts in a row - this one's NOT for you!  You're fine... you don't need me!

Nope, I'm talking to the person whose hiding out in their loungeroom with serious 'exercise envy' because they simply don't know where to start, or are talking themselves out of even trying because they "can't match it with the others".

... and I'll tell you why.

The last two weeks I've copped a serious dose of REALITY.  If you've been following my story the past few months, you'll know that my little world turned itself upside down with the introduction of the Commando Challenge.  EVERYTHING went into overdrive - eating, exercising, blogging, publicity...   turned into a bit of a "monster" on all fronts, so obsessed with that wretched goal that I feared eating, was working my body into the ground, and regretfully... I had a physical and emotional breakdown because of it.  I hit a brick wall with a whopping great thud because I turned my nose up at reality.

.... and it's taken its toll since.  Not only has my body battled pulling ANY numbers since, but I lost the plot - literally - and went into self-sabotage binge-mode eating, emotional breakdowns, enormous self-doubt, and I'm really loathe to say it, but the "black" started to seep back into my psyche.  Then the onslaught of Bathurst's fantastic winter weather hit, and my knees packed it in, mobility became an issue and the 'hibernation munchies' took over...

Tomorrow I lose my gym membership (which was sponsored for three-months for the course of the Challenge) and shattered at the prospect of losing that outlet, promised myself I'd take advantage of my final week.... and you know what, I haven't even walked in there once this week.  I'm just too gutted because I can't financially afford to pay to renew it.   Needless to say, some part of me threw my hands up in the air and said "why bother?!!!" - and I've been fighting it since, somewhat pathetically.


I've been sitting here this week working on strategies to get myself out of this horrible funk, self-analysing what's going on and why I'm so upset, and wondering "what the hell I did BEFORE all this stuff" - publicity, gym, competitiveness - when I used to do this in secret and without a gym - that was working so well, before I turned into the ignorant, arrogant, number-obsessed junkie that I've turned into!

I sit here and read other people 'bragging' about their results, successes, wins and big calorie-smashing exercise sessions, and the lump in my throat is enough to suffocate me.  I'm seriously shattered.  There WAS a time when it was ME sitting here doing the bragging (which in all fairness, before someone takes offense, it's NOT bragging really - it's often someone surprising themselves with something they never did before, so are so excited they just want to share with everyone else!  ... well, that was ME anyway... am sure there's others out there who ARE literally bragging!!!)...   I read this, I congratulate, I fly the happy flag for them...  but I'm hurting.  A lot.

The last few weeks I've been loathe to exercise at all - my mobility is very much hindered with my knees out of action, and it breaks my heart.  My eating-binges have me up and down a few kilos on the scales, and I feel bloated and icky because of it - and just want to hide away in a moo-moo cuz my self-perception is so distorted, I'm back to feeling the way I did three years ago at my heaviest!  I want to hide, I don't want people stopping to stare at my lumpy body, trying to move when I can't...   and I can't even begin to explain how disappointed and upsetting it is to see so few calories burnt when I DO exercise (distorted perception again, because my fitness became so strong, I have to keep working more and more to see the same levels of calories burnt = superior fitness. So going back to 'realistic' routines and smaller burns, I'm so distorted, that I'm severely disappointed..)

It was only a few weeks ago I was doing double classes a day at the gym, or a good solid 2+ hours nearly 6 days a week.  I was kicking BUTT - like a freaking "professional exerciser" - but let's face it, I was so wrapped up in that constant WIN, I was living off adrenalin and so brutally obsessed with my results, I was completely ignorant to the fact I was hurting myself (literally) - and stuffed my body entirely because of it.  I minced my knees, exhausted all the reserves, and my body started retaliating with weird side effects (ones I didn't tell anyone about when they were happening).   NOT realistic, NOT normal... ignorant, arrogant, brutal and quite frankly.... STUPID.

I lost the love of exercise - which broke my heart - because for a girl who could barely move 'before', it's that liberation that I'd fallen in love with... The more freedom I found, the more I loved it.   ... and now, I'm stuck in a zone where I degrade doing something simple (because it's "not enough"), I question why I bother if it's not big or brutal enough, fob-off the basics and opt for hiding instead, because my head-space is so out of whack!

My breakdown the other day was necessary - they always are - it's the trigger-point where I come to cross-roads about what I'm doing versus what I SHOULD be doing.   I sat here and cried, because I miss the girl who was happy to plod along with her weightloss - who rejoiced in losing half a kilo a week cuz she worked to pull that and it IS enough...  who rejoiced in going for a half-hour (!!) walk and didn't care so much that it wasn't burning "over a thousand calories", the girl who ate realistically and was humbled by finding new things about herself and her body all the time that she didn't know she could do...  who didn't feel compelled to hit goals (or hurt herself for them) for a 'deadline' or let someone else's expectations rule her actions! 

I miss her...   SHE was real. 


Yesterday I forced myself to walk to the post office, bank, shop and home.  It wasn't a big walk by any means - in fact, it was nothing in comparison to what I've been known to do...  but it was MY achievement.   My head was telling me to drive, "stay warm Amy, your knees are bad, don't do it... Don't want to be seen in my tracky pants strutting down the main street... You can just hide and do the cross trainer in the loungeroom (which I probably wouldn't have - even THAT strategy isn't necessarily working!)...  It'll take too long to walk there and back - you should be doing client work instead."    BULL.   It took about 40 mins, INCLUDING the stint in the shop... and it made me feel GOOD. 

Simple walk.  Didn't wear my heart rate monitor - because I didn't WANT to know...

SO WHAT if my heart rate didn't reach some ridiculous point that my temples wanted to explode... 
SO WHAT if it didn't even register a solid hour's walk
SO WHAT if someone sees you in tracky pants
SO WHAT .... ?!   What what what what?!!  

I came home really humbled, and really relieved.  I smiled as I unpacked my groceries and made my delicious lunch with the goodies I'd found marked down, that I'd have missed otherwise.  It empowered me enough to strap on my shoes last night and go to my Zumba class (the one I ADORE but have been avoiding too cuz "it doesnt burnt enough cals"... OMG I cry for that... ) and it gave me the spark today to go and have lunch with my friend and LEAVE MY FREAKING HOUSE and be social, when my head is in "hermit mode".

.... and just as we were sitting there having lunch outside today, the sunshine broke out from behind the dark clouds, and I said to Dan, "I'm going to go for a walk! I NEED to walk!"...

.... and I did!

Came home, geared up and walked out the door. I walked for 55 minutes - out to Kelso and back (roughly 5kms).  It was the track I was ECSTATIC to walk not that many months ago, when I'd built up enough stamina and endurance to handle such a long distance.  It was the one I'd fobbed off since, because "it wasn't enough!"  (ouch...)

As I was coming down the back straight on the way home, it hit me....   I was doing what I loved - I'd literally zoned out - had stopped telling myself this was wasting my time, wasn't good enough, my heart rate wasn't peaked enough, I wasn't working hard enough...  BULLSHIT.   My knees were handling it ok, I could feel it in my thighs, I wasn't huffing and puffing (fitness is awesome, but basic movement is bliss) and I felt GOOD.

SO WHAT if I'm not a freaking professional exerciser?!   I stopped loving it when I went obsessive...
SO WHAT if I can't do what I did just a couple of months ago?   That person killed her body because she turned ignorant and pushed herself into dangerous territory...
SO WHAT if I can't match numbers with people 20-30kgs lighter than me.  They weren't nearly 200kgs to start with, and learning how to walk again from scratch!

SO WHAT if you have to start again Amy.... 


I thought of YOU GUYS when I was walking today. The people who are stuck in their loungerooms, broken hearted, hurt, with serious 'exercise envy', wondering how the hell to get up and take that first step...    It wasn't that long ago that I was there with you.   I was the girl who could barely move, was so ashamed it took a good couple of years before I was brave enough to exercise in public...   I was the girl who cried the first time she went outside for a walk, from shame.... then cried the day she pushed a jog into the mix, from pure joy!

Sitting here writing this with tears streaming down my face (again!) - literally with my training gear still on, having walked back through the door and sat down to write this...  I needed to talk to you guys....

I was so relieved and happy to reconnect with the girl who loves to walk, not for anyone else, but because she CAN....   She and I have a lot of 're-bonding' to do again, she's the heart and soul of this whole operation, and she's a little bruised from the abuse she's copped the last couple of months... but  we're gonna be ok, she's pretty forgiving...   But she had a message for you...



I LOVE exercise because it empowers ME, it makes ME feel good. It humbles me because I gave myself a second chance to move, it recharges me and fills me with pride that I CHOSE to do this for the sole purpose of benefitting ME. It works hand in hand with my proactive lifestyle choices, healthy eating and working on the psyche...  everything works together when it's balanced, heartfelt and REAL.


SO WHAT if we're not all insane, maniac-style gym-junkies and professional sweaters?!!    It's not about them, it's about YOU.  Every choice makes a difference. Every step is worthwhile.


SO WHAT I'm doing now... is empowering YOU to get up and make that stand.  Next time you'd prefer to hide away, just don't.  Walk out that door with me in your head - just as I had you with me today.  You only need to take that first step...  the rest is just magic!

Be proud, and just get up and DO.  The smallest things can mean the most!

xx