Success is a journey, not a destination

For some of you, this journey of mine may seem like it has just began. In reality, this journey began quite some time ago. The meat and potatoes of it all, I suppose, began this past April.

Exercise and athletics have been a part of my life since I was a child. I began playing organized, competitive softball when I was 9 and continued with that sport until I finished high school at 17. I started playing volleyball when I was about 10 or 11, getting involved with the competitive side when I entered Jr. High school at 12 and 13. High school, is where my love and passion allowed me to really grow and learn as a player.

In college, life was crazy hectic so exercise and organized sports became a thing of the past. About half way through my second year I began playing co-rec volleyball at school, running at the beach and rollerblading. My nutrition goals at that time were pretty nonexistent like any other 20 year old.
After I graduated college, I started taking my body more seriously and committed to a gym nearby. I started out slowly, setting a goal of 2-3 times a week for the first month or so. Then I upped the ante to 3-4 days a week. After a 2-3 months of settling into a schedule, exercise became a part of my daily life. It was 4-6 days a week from then on out and I've stuck to that consistency for the past 13 years! Even through my pregnancies, I stuck with my workouts at least 4-5 days a week.
My passion for fitness began as a way to "get back into shape" but quickly became a (healthy) obsession. About 4 or 5 months after I started exercising consistently, my Dad had his first major heart attack that resulted in a triple bypass heart surgery. That was enough to solidify my commitment to getting and staying healthy. I cut out soda, limited my fast food (cause let's face it I was still in my early 20's) and upped my water intake.

With the genetics that I was given, I knew that keeping my heart and body healthy through regular exercise and a better diet was the one factor that I could have some control over. So for those of you who may have never been able to understand my religious ways when it comes to exercise and fitness, there you have it.

I was able to maintain my weight at about 145-150 for about 4 or 5 years. Then I moved to AZ and put on about 15 lbs. Marriage, two pregnancies and my father's death took a toll on me and my body. When my youngest daughter was almost 1 years old,  I found myself at 185lbs  (the heaviest I had ever been in my life) and busting out of my size 14 clothes.  A combination of stress, grief, eating out and 2 pregnancies put me on a fast track to keep gaining weight.

I woke up one morning, tired of being overweight and not wanting to have to spend money to buy a new wardrobe in a larger size, determined to do something about it. After all, I had most of the skills and knowledge to lose I just had to commit myself to the process wholeheartedly. And thus began the next chapter in my fitness and weight loss.

Over the next 5 1/2 months, through a food journal, a controlled calorie diet, higher intensity cardio (I picked up running) and some changes to my strength training, I was able to lose nearly 40 lbs and 3 dress sizes! I went from a too tight 14 to a very slim 8. 185 lbs to 142 at my lowest. After about a year and a half I settled right around 145lbs and have pretty much been able to maintain that weight for the past 5+ years.

The next chapter of my journey was a hard one. Some of you know parts of the chapter but I don't think anyone knows the whole story. So here goes......

I have always had body image issues since as far back as I can remember. At ten or eleven years old I was well aware of the shape of my body and how it was different from the other girls my age. I developed quickly and at a young age. I basically had the body of a women at the age of 11/12. That was a tough thing to deal with at that age. I also was a self proclaimed "chubby" kid. Not "fat" but not exactly lean either.

After I lost all that weight in 2006, I still struggled somewhat with the image I saw in the mirror. (With age, the self critical eye becomes more stern.)  Women have it tough in society, with the media putting such emphasis on bodies. Magazines, movies, TV, sports, all so fixated on how big (or small) someone looks. I had a hard time accepting my body for what it was and took so much emphasis off of what I had already accomplished.

I began to obsess about one particular part of my body that I could never really sculpt the way I wanted. No matter what I did in the gym or how many calories I counted, I could never get the tummy I yearned for. Being pregnant twice really did a number on the elasticity and tone of my abdomen. Stretch marks for miles. Loose, flabby skin that I could not tame no matter what I did.

For about 3 years or so I contemplated cosmetic surgery, a tummy tuck to be exact. I scoured the internet for information, researched the procedure, pulled up before and after pictures and wondered if I could really commit to having it done. After all, it would give me a fresh starting point to get the abdomen I really wanted. It would do for me what I couldn't do on my own.

I spent many hours contemplating the procedure, wondering if I could live with the enormous scar and new belly button. Could I struggle through the pain and survive the recovery? And what sense did it make for me to elect to get cut from hip to hip when I worked so hard to have my children naturally? Was it worth it in the end? Would I have the peace of mind that I so desperately wanted and believed I deserved?

I knew I would and I knew I did.

So, after getting a referral to a surgeon I went in for a consultation, with no expectations only hoping to get an opinion on if I was a candidate and talk numbers ($$). After the consulate with the doctor, we talked numbers. Ouch! The next question was, "Could I live with the bill?!"


I knew I could.

For some of you this may come as a shocker and surprise, others of you already know what I had decided. In June of 2010, a few weeks shy of my 35th birthday I had the tummy tuck done. It has been the best thing I have done for myself. Ever. Happy birthday to me. :-)
Now, don't be fooled. Just because I had the procedure done, doesn't mean I had instant flat belly. No, no, no. I had to work very, very hard for about 8 or 9 months afterwards to make my body and core strong.  Diligence. Dedication. Commitment. Self-discipline.

When I went into this procedure, my final goal was to get my body in the kinda shape that would allow me to do a Figure competition. I had always felt that my abdomen issues were blocking my path to success. The surgery also corrected some damage I had incurred in my rectus muscles from being pregnant, which allowed me to really work my core and abs in a such a way that I could actually gain some muscle definition and strength.
In April, I had a light bulb moment. I decided that if I really put my mind to it, it was possible to get my body figure competition ready. I just had to work hard, commit and believe in myself and the process.

I reworked my strength training plan, changing my routine every 3 weeks. I upped my cardio to high intensity interval training. I committed to a "core" class twice a week. And I set up nutrition goals that would allow me to cut body fat, food journaling to keep myself on track and be accountable.  

I lost 5% body fat in about 33 days and about 7 inches total from my waist, hips, thighs, calves and arms. Total weight loss of about 8 lbs. I was a size 8 and now I am a size 4.
I have never been this small in my life.

I am proud of where I started, how far I have come, the level of commitment I have been able to maintain and my tenacity. In order to get to my ultimate goal of being competition ready, I have a long road to go yet.

I have some things yet to overcome and work through but I am trying to take it all one day at a time. After all, Rome wasn't built in a day. ;-)