Who I Am and Who I Want to Be (Warning: Long!)

As I embark on this new challenge (AKA Bootcamp), I feel for me, it's time to look at where I've been, where I'm at, and where I want to be. This might be a long one, so hang in there while reading!

Growing up, I was always a heavier child. When I entered school in kindergarten, I noticed that I was a little bigger than the other girls in my class. It didn't bother me as I just played as was happy. Then in 4th grade, I noticed that I started developing in the chesticle area and that I was starting to get fat rolls. I became very self conscious about myself but hid it well. When I would get home, I'd have cookies and Mountain Dew. I played sports and enjoyed it. I never felt like I couldn't do anything because of my weight.

As I entered into middle school (why does anyone have to go through this stage of life, I'll never know), there was a definite difference in my appearance compared to the other girls. I clearly had a larger stomach, arms and legs. I wore boys clothes (shorts/jeans and t-shirts) because girl clothes didn't fit right and didn't look good. I started hearing the jokes that I had more rolls than the bakery, etc. I laughed them off but deep down, they hurt me. But I didn't do anything about it. I did participate in volleyball, basketball, and softball. I remember them having a tough time finding a softball jersey that fit me. I also remember that we could earn gold slips in school. If we earned 10 gold slips, we could get a candy bar at the end of the day. Being that I was the ideal student, I had gold slips galore. I savored in every Reese's PB Cup, Snickers, Whatchamacalit, M&Ms, etc. that I got.

As I entered into high school, I was over 200 pounds. I played volleyball my freshman year. I clearly remember the coach yelling and me to speed it up during our warm-up runs. I remember practically dying during sprints and killers. But I did it. I remember losing weight but not really making a big deal about it. Deep down, I knew as soon as volleyball season was done, I'd probably gain the weight back anyway. It bothered me, but not enough to do anything about it. I quit volleyball after the season and coach was not happy. We didn't see eye to eye but she wanted me as a setter and I didn't want that position, so I just quit.

I had friends in high school but I was always the third wheel. I know I was talked about behind my back a lot, but I just pretended it didn't happen and lived my life. My sophomore year, I started volunteering in an elementary special ed room. The teacher there was a first year teacher and we got along well. She struggled with weight too and so we made graphs about our weight and actually started working out after school. We'd go on walks around town or do a video in her classroom. That made me feel good and I liked seeing the results. By the time summer came, I was down 12 pounds and was happy with the progress I'd made. Summer came, and so did the weight. But again, I didn't care.

Junior year and senior year came and passed. I went to prom with my swing choir partner because I knew there was no chance that I would ever be asked. My group of friends all had dates, so I had to have someone. Ben was a trooper and we had a lot of fun. I remember writing in a journal my senior year that I weighed 240 pounds and was mortified that I weighed that much. I knew girls in my class who weighed 125. I weighed over 100 pounds more than them. But still, I didn't do anything about it.

I looked forward to college, moving away from home and the life of a small town girl and experiencing new things. My freshman year was a blast. I met a lot of great friends and partied a ton. My weight maintained and I was cool with it. I never met any boys, danced at clubs but was jealous of the other couples "getting it on" on the dance floor, wishing that was me. So, I went into my sophomore year knowing I wanted to change. I signed up for aerobics class at college and went faithfully 4 days a week. I started cutting down what I ate (A LOT), so much so that I begin just eating about once a day. I lost 18 pounds in a month as was so happy with myself! I also started looking online for boyfriends and met a guy who lived an hour and a half away. We talked for a few weeks and decided to go on a first date. He came up to my dorm and picked me up. I was the talk of the dorm, let me tell you! We went to dinner and a movie and things went fabulous. We continued to date throughout the remainder of my college years, doing the long distance thing. I went to his place every weekend because he didn't "care" to come up to the dorm or my apartment (Remember this fact....). The longer we dated, the less I worked out and the more weight I started to gain. He didn't say anything and I didn't either, so I assumed life was great.

I was placed for student teaching and he got a job in that same city, so we decided to live together. I didn't think life could get any better. We saw each other on a daily basis, I cooked and cleaned and everything was lovely. He proposed to me after about 5 months of living together (Dec. 2003) and I thought my dreams had come true. I started planning a wedding, bought the dress and felt as if my life was complete. We set the wedding date for June 2005. In the fall of 2004, I got my first teaching job. I'll never forget the night I got the phone call. When I accepted the job, I ran into the computer room (where he spent most of his waking hours) and told him the good news. His response was, "that's nice." My sister was also there at that time and she was ecstatic for me. I shoved it off as he was into his game and life went on. As we approached the holidays that year, his work shift changed from 2-11 PM, so I literally never saw him except for when he was asleep. I started noticing that instead of getting home at 11:30, it would 2 or 3 AM. I questioned him about it and he said he was going to a bar to drink with some guys. Okay, fine.

After a few weeks, while trying to be intimate, he totally dissed me. Then he said he had something to tell me. He told me he's been going to a strip club every night after work. He said he liked it because he enjoyed talking to the guys (oh yeah, right) and it relaxed him. I was devastated. He then went on to tell me he wasn't attracted to me anymore and that I was too fat. My life crumbled. He called the engagement off and I moved out and lived with my sister. I was so hurt, it made me sick. I couldn't eat. I lost 15 pounds in two weeks. My sister forced me to eat with her so she knew I ate. About a week after I moved in with my sister, he came to visit me to bring my mail. He said he'd made the decision that he didn't want to be with me anymore. While I was crushed at first, as time passed, I was okay with it. He didn't want kids (which I do) but I was willing to accept it and put up with it which I never should I have done. As I look back to that relationship, the first year was fabulous and then routine. He chose computer games over me and had told me if I wanted to spend time with him, I should play the online games with him. So I did. I was so gullible. I also found out later on that the night I moved out, he went on a first date with a girl he worked with.

I spent about three weeks in depression, sleeping a lot, barely getting through work (I don't remember how I taught then) and just existing. I got on the scale and saw I was 25 down from my highest just a month or so back. So, I decided to start watching what I eat and working out. My sister and I worked out together and had fun doing it. She was dating a guy at the time, so that kind of bothered me. But I used that aggression in my workouts. I decided that I didn't want to live with her for a long time, so I looked at renting an apartment. Then, I started looking at buying houses. I found a smaller house that would be perfect for just me and the payments were only $90 more a month, so six years ago today, in fact, I bought my first house.

I continued working out, losing weight and dating, but nothing panned out really. Until November of 2005, I met my now-husband. December of 2005, I weighed my lowest of my adult life, 214 pounds. I felt on top of the world. I looked good, I had a man in love with me, and it was great. And as with relationships, as I started getting comfortable, the weight crept on.

Fast forward to today (sorry, that was a long life story...hope you're still with me). I currently weigh 245 pounds. I don't work out consistently and my eating needs help. Again. Tomorrow, I embark on my Max 10 BodyShaping bootcamp for 10 weeks of hard workouts and monitored nutrition. My goal is to lose 20 pounds by June 25 (end of week 10). Ideally, I'd love to lose 30 but I'll take what I can get. I just want my body to respond. Then after June 25, I'm going to hit the jogging/running and hope to lose another 10-15 pounds before school starts. This could put me close to the 100s, something I haven't been in for 15+ years.

My goal would be between 170-180. Then, my goal is maintenance and toning. Assuming my husband gets a full time job (I pray to god that happens), I would like to start trying to conceive our first child in a year (summer 2012). My doctor believes I have PCOS and losing weight would be a huge asset in trying to conceive. I also refuse to carry a child at my current weight.

So, there you have it. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. I plan to blog daily on my bootcamp and nutrition activities. I will also post my weekly progress.

Here I go....