It wasn't until a couple of days ago that I had felt this way.
Every morning, I walk in the bathroom (or rather stumble, but I pretend like I'm graceful in my head), strip for my shower and stare at the reflection in the mirror. I routinely pinch spots that need improving, looking for possibly a positive look on my body. I find skin flaws, hair issues, and a somewhat chubby face. I have splotches of occasional acne and darker spots from freckles and scars of my adolescence (not like cutting, but pimple spots).
Anyway, a couple of days ago, I meandered my way to the bathroom, did my routine and stared at my reflection.
And then I did a double take.
What in the world? Who was that?
It was like a switch and my eyes were open. I found a different woman. Yes, maybe emotionally changed, but I searched the body.
I liked my reflection. For the first time in four years.
For those of you who don't know, I auditioned for the Marine Corps band and passed. I was ready to be a musician and a Marine, and I was ecstatic. But there was a couple of things holding me back: The fact I was 36lbs over the weight maximum for my height, and the other fact of me not being able to run to save my life.
I remember my recruiter looking at me for a second and then saying, "ah, you'll lose the weight. 36lbs is nothing. Some have lost way more. You just need to want it and work hard enough, because the mentality nowadays is to coast and find the easiest way. And this is not easy."
Four years of struggling in college to find reasons to lose weight, and it switched something. Maybe it was the fact my career was on the line because of my physical fitness. Maybe because I secretly wanted to work. I will never really know which is the real reason. My freshman year of college, I gained 20lbs. Sophomore year, 10lbs, Junior year, 10lbs, and part of senior year was about 2lbs. So, you could say I was pretty portly.
Once the recruiter said that to me, about being able to lose the weight, something burned inside of me.
I want this. I want to be the best musician. I want to lose this weight and reach my full potential. I want this. And within a few minutes, it turned into:
I am going to lose the weight,
be in the Marines, and serve my country while playing my clarinet. This is what I was destined for.
I knew that I had a long way to go. But I wasn't about to give up.
The first week was hell. Two pound loss, and health food. I had gone cold turkey on the bad stuff. And IT WAS AWFUL. I will not downplay it. Giving up chocolate was the worst feeling of my life. I use to go to stores and buy large bags at a time, and then down it. When I was an intense athlete in high school, I got away with it. But not this time. And I knew I had to. I remember throwing all the chocolate in my cupboards away and silently weeping. (I found other alternatives, like chocolate Odwalla. So good.) What's sad, is I remember reading a couple of studies talking about the addictiveness of sugar and how the part of the brain that reacts to cocaine would react to sugar in the same way, and that frightened me. To this day, I still struggle not to eat the cookie. But I resist (when it's full fat and awful).
But every week, the workouts became easier. The health food was easier to process. My addictive feeling to sugar started to subside slightly (like I said, I think I will always struggle with it). I remember the first time I had timed a mile and a half, I was at a 27:35. Yes. I walked most of it, at a slower pace, because running hurt my joints and my legs, and badly. I remember getting home after a workout, almost in tears, because there would be that one girl that would snicker at me in the gym, or I would get the "why are you here" looks. Like I already lost my chance at health. But I kept going.
Eventually, I began to run outside (for me, it took a lot of courage). It went from a half a lap straight to a full lap, then to two, then three. I was able to last more than five minutes. My feet stopped hurting and my joints recovered and the pain disappeared. I started to run in town, and became that woman that I envied, when I would watch her run, wishing I could do that. Breathing became easy.
Before I knew it, I was down fifteen pounds. Then twenty. Then twenty-five. I lost inches around my waist, hips, bust, legs and arms. My clothes were falling off, and I went from a size 13/11 to a size 7/9 (you know how brands work). Shirts that had not even fit up my arms, and not even close around my torso fit perfectly. The only downside about my changes were my legs: the muscle grew larger than the fat had, so now the pants don't fit quite right. But they are very muscly.
I didn't realize the change until this recognition in the mirror. I felt my eyes fill with tears and I thought to myself,
I am pretty. I knew I still had about 11lbs to go. and I was okay with it. I would lose the last bit. But I could see the real me which had been hiding underneath weight. I always thought the people in the
Biggest Loser were crazy when they said that. I mean, I understood them, but I was always like, "yeah, okay." But I felt the way they said it. I could see muscle, form, a prominent chin with high cheekbones. My eyes crinkled with happiness. Who knew that such a change would make me feel so free? I was so much closer to my goals to becoming a Marine.
The fitness test to get into boot camp was my goal. The mile and a half had to be done in 15:00 (keep in mind, my original time was 27:35), arm hang at 18 seconds at least, and crunches at 44 in two minutes.
This last weekend, I did the arm hang in 38 seconds. I blew my mind by running a mile and a half at 14:14. I didn't quite pass my crunches (it was RIGHT after running, so I was beat). But I was close enough to the goal (at 38), that I wasn't worried.
So, all this to say, is that I am changing. I feel better, I know that I have a bright future ahead of me.
This has been quite a journey.
As I write this, I listen to Dvorak's Symphony No.9, mvmt 2. And I feel like it reflects how I feel. The beautiful melodies, of the English horn, oboe, clarinet, flutes, and horns. And I realize that one day, I will play professionally, and it will come soon. I will (hopefully) play this symphony one day (probably when I'm out of the military band, after retirement).
I am excited where I will go and what I am capable of. Even now, excitement swells within and I smile with tears forming.
I am truly blessed.
Let's do this thing.