Fat to Bodybuilder
I was never athletic or the popular girl and grew up in a house where cleaning your plate was a prerequisite. I didn’t grow up overweight but as I got older my life went from being somewhat active to nothing at all. Eating was my pastime and surrounding myself with other who did the same thing.
Like many of us, I had a position that didn’t allow me to manuver beyond my desk so when a person is bored or stressed what do they do? Eat; and that is what I did. I ate myself into a healthy 180pds and that was before I was pregnant with my daughter. After that, it was endless up and down of my weight until the point that I just gave up. I was happy being “fat” no matter what anyone else said around me. I didn’t shop in the plus size stores because I couldn’t identify with the “bigger ladies” and I also didn’t feel comfortable. Let’s face it when you go from a size 8 to a size 18 in a matter of months it could be shocking.
In 1999, I was diagnosed as being a diabetic. My doctor told me that I needed to get it under control and still I was in denial about the whole thing. In 2000, My doctor put me on cholesterol medication and that still didn’t phase me. I continue to eat the high carb foods and still lived an inactive. I was so out of shape that I couldn’t carry my two month old baby at the time up three flights of stairs. I carried this lifestyle for years to come, going from pills to insulin. In 2001, my father passed away from cancer and that caused more stress for me. I began to withdraw from the family and started eating again. My marriage fell apart and all was left was my daughter and I.
From 2001 to 2009 my weight went from 180pds to 250 lbs, size 24W and my diabetes was out of control. My doctor had placed me on heart medication the week before “JUST IN CASE” I needed it.
One day I sat on the edge of the bed with my daughter and I was trying to find a place to give myself insulin. Of course, when you are taking insulin three times a day it gets hard to figure out the next spot to give a shot. Not to mention, the numerous times I had to prick myself through out the day.As I sat on the bed, I looked at my daughter and told her “Mommy can’t do this anymore.” At that second, I knew I had a purpose. A plan to better not only for me but for my child as well.
“I picked up the phone and told my doctor that I was no longer taking my medication. Instead of my doctor encouraging me and having alternative ways for me to beat diabetes, he said to me “I will meet you with a toe tag” and hung up the phone. Now, I wouldn’t encourage anyone to do what I did but I was desperate for a change; a change for the better. This started my journey. it was a hard and tedious. I didn’t have a Personal Trainer or a Nutritionist; it was just me, myself and I.
I remember my first reality of losing weight, my daughter one day gave me a hug and she said “Mommy, I can wrap my arms around you.” Right then and there, I knew I had to keep this up. My daughter became my biggest fan and my purpose.
I have been very successful with my loses. I’m now 130 pounds, size 3 (kept it off for the last 6 years without surgery) and training for my second bodybuilding competition and participated in several strength challenges. As a member of a gym, I encourage others to keep pushing and sometimes exchange our struggles to keep ourselves grounded.
I know what it like to be overweight and unhealthy but when you are doing it alone it is even harder. And because I do, I understand what goes through a person mind when they feel defeated or their joints ache because of the weight. I didn’t fall into this not knowing; I know.
I enjoy my life now because of my continuous exercise and eating habits.Needless to say, I saw my doctor for a follow up physical not only was he shocked but also was shocked that I am no longer a diabetic and didn’t need any medication as prescribed before. The only thing my doctor could say at the time was “I don’t know what you are doing, but keep up the good work.”
Originally posted 2014-06-27 08:00:58. Republished by Blog Post Promoter