Part One: The Skinniest “Fat Kid” Manifests the Weight
June 28, 2016
I thought I’d share some today with you about my exercise journey. I played rec league soccer for 9 years as a kid, and I was never super skinny, but I was never heavy either. Other people thought I was slim. I hated my stomach from the time I remember, so much so that I wouldn’t let my parents use that word.
At 16 I got a job at Wendy’s. We would walk by the fryer hundreds of times a day and grab chicken nuggets, french fries, or just make a burger right there on the line to slam on when the right managers were around. I went from a size 4 to a size 10 before even noticing what was happening. I had no idea what my body looked like.
My senior year, I took a class called “total fitness.” We did calisthenics for 45 minutes or so every day. I’m glad I did it, because otherwise I would have had no idea about what exercises to even do, but it was pretty boring. We did get to work out to Metallica though. The coach asked me at the end of the semester how much weight I’d lost. I didn’t know. He said he could tell I’d lost a lot. (This man had to be 300 lbs and had a reputation for hitting on the girls in all his classes.) To be honest, I hated my body more after the class than before, because it made me more aware of my body, and made me realize that push ups and leg lifts weren’t going to undo all the chicken nuggets.
In college, there was a gym room in the guys’ dorm right next to my dorm. About halfway through the year, I realized how much I hated being the fattest roommate, and walking all over campus wasn’t going to work off the cafeteria food (which I didn’t think I ate TOO much of), so I finally started going to the gym there. I didn’t do much. Probably just ran on the treadmill or the eliptical. But it was enough that I started to feel a lot better about my body; it started to have some kind of shape again.
And then I got pregnant and gained something like 60 pounds.
And I breastfed, and that would allegedly help the weight come off, but it just made me hungrier and angrier and more depressed.
(I’ll pick this up again where I left off.)
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