Tuesday, March 2, 2021

Update: I have now lost over 200 pounds, signed up for half marathon

Friends, I had a lot of feedback from my last post, so I wanted to give you an update.

In late September, I had lost 157 pounds in 12 months. Since then, I have lost an additional 45 pounds. At the time, I had just run my first (virtual) 10K race. I am now signed up for a half marathon for April. On Friday, I ran over 10 miles in 1 hour, 36 minutes.

(UPDATED PHOTO)

I have found that it's harder to keep losing weight. Even as I step up the intensity and length of my workouts, I have found it a little more challenging (but not impossible). My body also looks fat. I have loose skin all over my body, which makes me still feel fat at times.

But guys, I have to tell you it's amazing to be down to 218. I still want to lose a little more, and think I still can.

I also want to say something about companies like Weight Watchers, Jenny Craig, Advocare and others. I am sure they truly believe in their product. I am sure they work for some people. But I believe they have given people the wrong idea about losing weight. There is a cost of entry to those programs (in some cases, a very expensive cost of entry). It gives so many people the idea that if you don't have the money, you can't diet... THIS IS SO WRONG!

Every bit of research out there shows eating a low-calorie, well-balanced diet coupled with regular exercise leads to weight loss. That isn't that hard. I really feel if you just watch what you eat (I have used an app, but pen and paper still works), and compared that to how many calories you burn a day, odds are, you'll become fit.

Anyway, thanks for everyone who supported me. Below, I have attached my post from late September:

https://www.reddit.com/r/loseit/comments/j2z34u/my_weight_loss_journey_1_year_later/

My weight loss journey 1 year later

June 2, 2019, I waddled my 420-pound body up Clifton Hill in Niagara Falls. My wife and I have taken an annual road trip for our anniversary every year since getting married in 2014. Our 2019 trip was special as it was the first time I had ever spent the night outside of the United States.

I had always been fairly athletic despite my size. I played basketball and tennis almost every day growing up. My diet, however, was horrific. I lived off Hot Pockets and ice cream. But exercising every day at least kept me from ballooning as a teenager.

Then adulthood came, and the perceived time I had for exercise was replaced with work and chores. Leisure no longer felt like a priority.

Walking never felt like a challenge, and the walk from our hotel to the falls wasn’t hateful as it was downhill. But returning from the falls, I was gassed. The simple act of walking had fatigued me to the point that I had to stop. I was shameful.

I had never really felt “unhealthy” until this point.

Shamers be shaming

August 3, 2019, was a gut-wrenching day for many of us in the US. That Saturday, I had just taken Jenna’s car to get an oil change. We found out her rear brake lights would not work, and it appeared there were electrical malfunctions. We were planning on replacing her car at the end of the year, so leaning of a potentially expensive electrical issue prompted us to decide on buying a new car.

When I came home, I heard that there was a massacre at the El Paso Walmart. I checked in with our Saturday person at work, and she was going to need some relief at some point (any one who has worked in breaking news understands how draining these massacres are).

After working an unexpected Saturday shift, I went to bed planning on teaching a few classes in the morning and then going to buy Jenna a new car. After briefly falling asleep, I received a text that another massacre happened, this time just 15 miles down the road in Dayton. Having graduated from Wright State and then working at the Dayton Daily News, I had many friends living in that immediate area. My thoughts turned to them as I now had to work another shift, this time in an area I knew quite well.

While reporting on the events taking place in Dayton, some of my tweets went viral. Immediately, some of the responses weren’t about the shooting, but about my weight. There is this huge tragedy happening in Dayton, and my weight was the issue for some on social media.

To be fair to other reporters, this was a new experience for me. For many of my (especially female) colleagues, the vitriol of fat-shamers can be far worse. I am not an on-camera journalist, but for those who are, the shaming can be downright vitriolic. But given the two tragedies going on, it was tough to process this hate I was receiving.

A few weeks later, I watched a segment on Bill Maher’s show about how there should be more fat-shaming in society. It had me thinking that all of those people tweeting at me during another tragic night in our country were the ones who were right, and who am I to judge them?

I decided to get a gym membership. But the very thing that was driving me to get in shape was what was scaring me off. If these fat-shamers are so spiteful online, how much shame will I face at a gym?

Last September, I went for a walk at VOA Park in Butler County, Ohio. The loop there is 1.5 miles. I felt so exhausted just going once around that loop.

I had enough.

I knew I wanted to get into shape.

For several weeks starting around late September 2019, weighing over 420 pounds, I started walking as fast and long as I could. The 1.5-mile walk quickly became 3-mile walks. While I wasn’t seeing results on the scale, I was feeling better mentally.

Shamers replaced with cheerleaders

After a few walks, I already ran into a few folks at VOA Park who saw how much of a sweat I was working up, and gave me so much encouragement to keep moving. I never expected to get thumbs up from people. You quickly realize that for every person out there shaming you, there are dozens ready to push you and help you.

As the weather turned colder, I finally worked up the courage to enter a gym. And it’s true about Planet Fitness… it truly is the “No Judgement Zone.”

People there were so wonderful. Hearing people say “good work” was a great affirmation that I was in the right place.

My time spent exercising prompted me to do a lot of research on how to lose weight, and what I could do to drop weight. There are SO MANY diets out there. Which one is right for me?

It seemed the one constant was you have to watch your calories. If you burn more calories than you consume, you’ll lose weight. I am pretty good with numbers and statistics, so I realized that this could be a winner.

So I decided to go with a 2,000-calorie-a-day diet. Coupled with exercise, I found myself losing weight QUICKLY. In the month of December alone, I lost 25 pounds.

I have not put anything in my body that I don’t track. I track every calorie I eat. It is a great way to hold oneself accountable.

Last December was when exercising no longer felt like a chore but routine. I was no longer “forcing myself” to exercise, and had to force myself to take a few day off for rest.

This habit of eating 2,000 calories a day and exercising almost every day simply became my routine, and unlike past diets, it felt like this one worked for me. If I wanted to have a cookie, I could, but I had to make up for it somewhere else. My habit of eating a whole package of Oreos quickly disappeared, however. I have bought a few package of cookies since, but it seems they spoil before I get a chance to finish the container.

Then came COVID

March 11 started off a good day. My weigh-in had me down 78 pounds since October. I went to the gym and had a good workout on the stair stepper. I then went to work.

Our whole world felt like it changed in one night.

That evening, the NBA suspended the season, President Trump suspended travel between Europe and the US, and Tom Hanks announced he had the coronavirus. It felt like all of a sudden, the coronavirus was going to have a major impact on our way of life for months to come.

Leaving work that night in a bit of a haze, all I wanted to do was stress eat.

I got off at an interstate exit and was about to order a midnight McDonald’s hamburger.

Then when I got to the drive thru, I saw my gym membership dangling from my keys and decided not to undo the effort I put in that day at the gym. So I drove home and opted for a small, more calorie-friendly snack.

In the days to come, I decided to workout from home. I found myself doing step aerobics on a daily basis, thanks to my wife finding a fantastic YouTube channel. I am so thankful for Jenny Ford for her encouragement as she is a great step aerobics instructor. Even though I don’t do step aerobics as often, I plan on doing more as the weather gets colder. It’s a great full-body workout that requires very little equipment. And it doesn’t require going to an indoor gym during a pandemic!

Becoming a runner

At the start of 2020, I thought it would be cool to do a 5K. But I didn’t just want to walk one, so I decided if I could go 5Ks in less than 45 minutes, I’d sign up for one. Little did I know the only options for 2020 would be virtual.

I never really thought I’d enjoy running. It never appealed to me.

In May, I tested myself by seeing how fast I could go at the park. It was the first time I had jogged or walked in two months. I crossed the proverbial finish line in less than 40 minutes.

YES!

Time to sign up for a 5K!

It also turns out running is a great way to burn calories. This started to become my daily routine. It also is such a great way to clear the mind. I put on some music and don’t think about work or the ills of the world.

This is also where I picked up more cheerleaders. I never truly planned on documenting my weight loss journey. I thought to myself I am doing this for myself, and not those dreaded fat-shamers.

But I posted some photos of my first runs, and your support was so overwhelming. It truly motivated me to keep going.

On July 3, I ran my first official 5K. Not that I was counting, but my photo from that day had over 200 Facebook likes... more than I got for my wedding. HAHA

It was time for a new challenge: a 10K. I completed my first 10K on September 14 in 1 hour, 11 minutes. A few days later, I set my 5K PR at 29 minutes.

Let’s say beyond the improvement of my physical health, my mental health has improved so much too.

I have felt so fortunate to have my health and fitness back during a time that so many are suffering, I decided to organize a 5K to benefit Feeding America. A small group of friends have joined, and we have already enough participants to contribute nearly 2,500 meals to Feeding America.

If anyone is interested to join, it is on Facebook as the “Beat COVD, Beat Hunger 5k Fun Run.”

What’s next

As I end my first year of diet and exercise, I can announce I have lost 157 pounds. Even at 263 pounds, I am still considered “obese.” There is more weight I want to lose as I want to continue doing more with running. I have already started planning on running a half marathon in 2021. Nine months ago, even the idea of doing a 5K didn’t feel like a given.

I understand losing weight is not as challenging as maintaining weight loss. But I am sure with the constant support I have received from so many of you, I will give it my all in keeping the weight off.

One reason I write this is because I have gotten several messages from others saying how my new lifestyle has caused them to get more fit. I can’t tell you what it means to be an inspiration to others. Given all of the perceived hate in the world, love is what rules. And I have felt the love from my dear friends and family, especially Jenna!

Thank you to everyone for your love and support. You all mean so much to me and I feel so proud that I have been able to inspire others to get out and enjoy the outdoors!

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I’ve lost 45lbs and I’m still fat. It’s so frustrating can anyone else relate?

5’11 24F SW:256 CW:215

I’ve lost almost 45lbs over the last year going from a BMI of 36 to 29 and while I am proud of my progress and lifestyle changes I have been feeling low this week because even though I’m a whole small child of weight gone I. Am. Still. Fat.

My ultimate goal weight is 180 and I am aiming to be 200 by my birthday (in June) and I do understand that slow and steady wins the race - but I just needed to rant about my frustrations with weight loss. I’m aiming to lose about 60-70lbs total (I am extremely tall and at my lowest weight of around 165 I looked too thin for my body so 170-180s is my ideal range) BUT ITS SO ANNOYING GETTING THERE.

I just wanted to rant - has anyone who has lost large amounts of weight felt this? Any tips or advice?

Thanks so much!

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This is the first day of my life...

tl;dr After realizing that I haven’t healed from YEARS of trauma and the death of a loved one, I am finally ready to give myself the unconditional love and support and friendship that I give to everyone else in my life. It’s very scary.

I have thought about writing this-and consequently have put it off-over and over for months.

I’m not sure why the idea of writing this all out has seemed so daunting, other than perhaps the most obvious answer, which is that it’s not an easy thing to do.

I want to write about my weight loss goals and the support I’m hoping to find in this community, because I think it could really change the way I view and engage with my ambitions and beliefs about weight loss/ myself. But it feels like I can’t do that without explaining how I got here.

This may be long winded, but I really hope some of you read this. And I’ll do my best to keep it to only the most necessary details.

I sat in the doctor’s office (where I’m guessing so many of our epiphanies occur) the other day and was going in to meet a psychiatrist. I hadn’t expected to get weighed. Weigh ins have long been a source of complete and utter terror/anxiety for me. I am 26 now, and I remember being in middle school and having public weigh in’s in PE (which definitely should not be allowed????) and being completely sick over the prospect of it. This is a deep rooted anxiety, which goes far beyond the number on the scale. But more on that later. For now, I’m sitting in the plastic chair of the psychiatrist’s waiting room, being told it’s time for my vitals to be taken. I understand why it was necessary, but it was a real moment of heartbreak for me. That is something that I have really become aware of in my life-how my complete awareness of my body (and the way it looks and moves and the space it takes up) makes even the most innocuous tasks very emotional for me. I don’t have a single moment free from that. I am constantly perceiving the world through a lens that is hyper focused on my weight and my body. It’s led to an agoraphobia and fear of places and people that totally contradicts my personality. I’m a super social person and I love being out in the world. But I don’t want to be seen. I want to hide. I am….I’m sad. I’m sad.

She tells me my weight. 250. 250!!!!! There’s freedom in typing that. No one in my life would believe that number. Though this is by far the highest weight I’ve ever been, a lifetime of masking and over-compensating for my body has forced me to figure out how to camoflauge very well. I’m guessing most people would think I was 180 or so. Now that I think back on being 180 and thinking THEN that I was out of control, it all just makes me feel a little deflated. I sat there, actually very numb, and thought-”It’s okay, because this isn’t even your body. That’s just a number. It doesn’t reflect who you are and where you’re going.”

My protective mechanism is disassociation. I learned to do it when I was very young and living with a tragically and dangerously alcoholic parent. I was not abused, but I witnessed my mother attempting suicide, was forced to call 911 for her multiple times by the age of 9, had to learn to deal with her alcohol related seizures, grew up without the love of stable female figures in my early life (I’m a woman, since I failed to mention that earlier), etc etc. I love to write and paly music and act, so I genuinely began crafting fantasies of my future where I would be safe and loved and paid attention to. I should mention here that I have an INCREDIBLE father who has done a remarkable job in raising me. But as a single parent, he worked a lot and I definitely felt unloved and abandoned until I was old enough to understand the sacrifices he made for me. (Late teens, early twenties is when our relationship fully became the solid best friendship it is now. He’s my rock, and he honestly is the reason I’ve gotten this far. Love him SO much.)

I always had a lot of friends and was genuinely very loved, so I don’t want to make it seem like I was physically alone. I think there was more a deep, deep, feeling of abandonment and unworthiness, having to take care of a parent that young. I couldn’t understand why my mom couldn’t get better for me. She was a great mom when she was sober, and she was full of love. But her own hurt and pain from her own life got in the way. She was the youngest of 6 kids, born to Hollywood director and actor parents, very beautiful and smart, and she was put into dangerous positions at way too young of an age in the 70’s and 80’s. super interesting, and I will post about it one day. But her mother, my grandma, was an alcoholic (though she’s 55 years sober now! Go Grandma Josephine!) and she was the victim of alot of misjustice. I am not blaming her. But there was so much pain for me from such an early age. She felt very guilty about it, and when she was with me, she’d shower me in gifts and yummy food. Things my dad wouldn’t give me. I still remember my first McDonald’s hamburger and my first Jack In the Box hamburger when I was in kindergarten. That created the blueprint for the emotional relationship with food I only JUST realized I have!!!

Anyway, fast forward through the early years. I became an adolescent with no mom and very little contact with her side of the family. My hips started to grow. My breasts started to grow. My dad did his best, but he was a punk rock guy with a 12 year old girl. He had NO idea how to tell me what was happening to my body. He bought me my first bra and first box of tampons and never made me feel embarrassed, but he also didn’t really know how to talk about it with me. (Once again, I totally understand. Lmao. Bless my dad. I still remember phone calls with him from the tampon aisle asking me if I wanted the “blue flavor or the green flavor” which was nervous dad for “regular or super.” He’s a precious man.)

I truly began to compartmentalize. I was happy, in general, and very bubbly and social-but all the while this deep, soul, wound felt as if it was growing and growing. I struggled with weight, but it hurts my heart to think of it, because I was perfect how I was. I was a kid.

People have talked about my body since I can remember. I am black/french and Italian, which basically means Black and White, and from the time I was 5 years old, I was aware of how different I supposedly was. When I was 5, I remember playing house with two classmates in my kindergarten class, and there was a discussion of who was going to be mommy, daddy, and baby. It was myself, another little girl, and a boy named Matthew Fuller. I’ll never forget his name or his face. I and the other little girl both wanted to be “mommy” (EW at this gendered nuclear family bullshit, btw. It’s so gross to think back on how conditioned we are from a young age to place ourselves in these roles and be seen as a wife and mother. UGH...but I digress) but Matthew made the choice. He told me I was fat and my skin was too brown. LITERALLY. THAT IS WHAT HE SAID.

I was a baby...he was a baby! But I carried that with me through out my LIFE, man. I really did. And the microaggressions of being a mixed girl with a white mama and a black dad in the 90’s and 2000’s really played a role in how I saw myself. And by extension, how I treated myself.

By my teen years, I felt ugly and fat. I have had the same group of best friends since I was 11. I got SO lucky. They’re the best people on Earth. And they are BEAUTIFUL. I’m not just saying that. Like, my friends are incredibly beautiful. And I always felt like I was the funny one, or the smart one, or definitely the artistic one-but that seemed to pale in comparison to always being the one the cute boys wanted to talk to. And again, I want to stress-looking back, it hurts me how hard I’ve always been on myself. I was beautiful, too. I have always been smaller in terms of bone structure and height. At that time I was probably 5 feet tall or so. And I was around 150 pounds. I have an hourglass figure, so I carried the weight pretty well. But I also was comparing myself to my friends with completely different genetics, and I felt like I was hideous in comparison. It completely changed my life. I had panic attacks before things that were supposed to be fun, like parties and outings. When we were younger, my more neurotypical friends struggled to understand this, and thought it was dramatic of me to decide I literally could not go out if I couldn’t find something to wear. But again, I didn’t have the tools or comprehension to explain how much deeper it was than just not liking my outfit.

I was sexually assaulted at 16 by a close friend. The situation was awful and nobody really understood that rape could happen even if you were drinking and even if it was your friend. My experience was invalidated and ignored. It took a really long time to heal from that. Not sure if I have, to be honest.

Feeling unlovable, I then lost my virginity at 17 to my friend’s older brother who was much older and was super sketchy. I continued that pattern, of weaponizing my body to combat the voice inside of me telling me I wasn’t good enough.

The things that happened to me sexually as a result of that still really hurt me. I told no one.

I have dedicated my life to being the best friend and daughter I can possibly be to distract everyone from the fact that I am so afraid I will never find my person. I feel so much love for everyone that it feels like my heart is going to explode. But that is also my biggest weakness, because sometimes I feel so much it just hurts. It makes my eyes water writing that.

I’ve thought of killing myself constantly since I was like, 19.

My dream was-and is still-to be a writer and entertainer. I want to be able to perform live without fear. I want to be able to act. And yet I feel like my weight is keeping me from my dreams.

I know that isn’t true. But the idea of failing to achieve my dreams is genuinely worse than death. And sometimes I think it would be easier not to exist. But I know how much it would hurt the people who love me and depend on me. So I never, ever will. I love life so much that it makes me want to die. Because I feel everything so deeply I sometimes can’t bear it.

My friend died in June almost 2 years ago. He was one of my best friends ever. I loved him deeply. I was always partially in love with him. I even thought one day, maybe, maybe MAYBE we might end up together. He felt like my soul mate sometimes. We met when we were 15 and he died at 24. He was super, super, wounded. In ways I didn’t even know the extent of. He OD’ed. He had just gotten out of rehab. I was supposed to take him to a meeting that day. Instead he died. I spoke to him the night before. I still can’t think about it. I cry, and I cry and I cry. I love you, J. I miss you.

I got a DUI. It was just a really dark time for me. I am SO FUCKING PROUD of coming out of that. My friend was dead and I found myself in the deepest well I’d ever been in. I think that trauma literally changed the chemistry of my brain. Nothing made sense anymore. Couldn’t focus. My eating went to hell. I mean….I feel like I lost those 2 years of my life. I don’t even remember them. I was in so much pain that I didn’t address.

Throughout those years, I abused my body, starved it, harmed it, you name it. I was diagnosed with depression and anxiety as well as body dismorphia. I'm pretty sure I have a form of PTSD, but I've never been officially diagnosed.

Fast forward to now. I’m 26. I have done so much mental and emotional healing. All of the times I’d tried to lose weight in the past, it was about the physical. It was about a number on the scale. It was about the attention of men. It was about trivial things. Surface things. I never addressed the pain beneath. I never EVER gave myself grace or love or compassion, even though I am an incredibly loving and compassionate person.

It just kind of dawned on me the other day, even before the doctor’s visit, that I have begun to heal myself in a deep and personal way. I am unlearning my conditioned toxic beliefs each day. I truly love myself. I want a good life for myself. I know how capable and deserving I am. I have handled everything so far-and it can’t be for nothing. I am currently working on finishing an album and publishing my second zine of artwork and poetry. I look in the mirror and although I still feel triggered and sad-I know that isn’t the objective reality. I AM a beautiful person. And luckily, I’m actually very healthy. I just got a full panel of blood tests. I have no physical illnesses other than PCOS, which explains a lot of my weight gain and metabolism issues. I'm on medication for that as well as mental health meds.

I am on medication for my depression and anxiety, which is giving me the motivation to actually get out of bed in the morning. I am LUCKY. I have a father who loves me. Friends who are an amazing support system.

I have all of the tools to be successful. I saved up money, quit my job, and moved back home. I am safe here. I have the time and means to eat well and exercise. I am writing and working on my art. I am talking to my mom again, with my own boundaries set.

All that’s left is this. To care about myself enough to make my life better. To take control over my disordered eating. To be present and actively participate in my wonderful life.

I deserve it. We all fucking deserve that!!!!! So. I’m going to do it. It’s never felt like this before.

I guess, I’m just ready. I’m sure I left stuff out, but I’ve already written a fucking novel. I’m sorry about that. I needed to get that all out.

If you made it this far-you are amazing. Seriously. You had no reason to care, but the fact that you did makes me feel seen. Please, please, engage with me. Let me know if you have any thoughts, feelings, shared emotions, whatever! I truly look forward to the community I can build here, and hopefully it will help me with accountability and encouragement.

Lastly, I will show you my starting pictures. I plan to update later, so I really want to have the initial photos here to compare to eventually. There are also some areas I'm kind of fixated on that I hope I can gain a more objective perspective on. Yikes, this part is really scary. But I want to be transparent about this process. I'm just gonna throw in some pictures I took right now....so excuse my crazy hair and blah blah blah.

I’m terrified! Wish me luck! My life awaits!

SW: 250 H: 5"3

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My Weight Loss Journey Turned Into Weight Gain?????

At the start of February I decided I would go healthy. Just to lose some extra pounds gained during COVID. For reference, I was 136 pounds when I started this, probably like 130/132 pre-covid.

I reduced my calorie intake to 1300-1400, and I make sure those calories stay on the healthy side. I started drinking 2 liters of water per day. I also started working out 6 days a week. I do that workout everyone loves on TikTok, but I do a 15 incline/3 speed/30 minutes on the treadmill. 1 day for recovery.

So I thought I was doing everything right, and then I weighed myself 2 weeks in, I had gained 5 pounds. Tried not to get discouraged, but week 3 at the same time of day... 6 pounds gained since Feb 1. And now, 4 weeks in, still 6 pounds heavier than I started on Feb 1.... The scale is saying I am 142 pounds when I started at 136.

Anyone else experience this? Everything online talks about "temporary weight gain" from water retention. I read the articles over and over to make myself feel better, but when will the gain go away?? Everyone says within 2-3 weeks, but here I am 4 weeks in and still with the weight gain! I started taking magnesium daily cause someone recommended that to drop water retention, but 4 days in, no change.

Am I crazy or is my body reacting the complete opposite of expected? I was better off before I started working out!

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I caught myself in the mirror, and bawled because of what I accomplished so far

TL;DR at the end

I, like many of you, struggled with weight issues nearly my entire life. When I was a kid, I was decently fit until around the 2nd grade, where I began to have some slight health issues. Due to my allergies, my doctor recommended to my parents steroids to help accelerate my growth in hopes to phase out my allergies. As a result, I gained a massive amount of weight (and height) extremely quickly. After that, I excepted myself as the "fat guy," and it destroyed my self-image throughout public school and a good chunk of college. I consistent told myself "I'm just not a skinny guy," "there's nothing wrong with being fat," "I love food to much," "I could lose the weight if I wanted to, but I'm good where I'm at," etc.

Then 2019 comes around. I'm at my parents place over fall break, and I go and take a shower. I turned and caught myself in the mirror nude, my immediate gut reaction was one of disgust. You know when you don't intend to see yourself in the mirror, and you do, you have a moment when you don't subconsciously think you're looking at yourself? That happened. I was disgusted of myself. I hated myself. I weighed myself and was 249 pounds. I thought about all the things I've told myself, specifically the "I could lose the weight if I wanted to" thought. I wanted to prove that theory, do I have the ability to fix this? This marks the beginning of my weight loss journey.

There's been some ups and downs, but I'm currently 185 pounds and shooting for 175 (well more like 11% body fat). However, I still look at myself and see myself as a fatass. I don't know if I have body dismorphic disorder, but I definitely have symptoms of it.

However, as I'm getting ready to go to bed last night (I sleep shirtless so I'm shirtless in this moment), I caught myself in the mirror right above my dresser. My subconscious didn't realize I was looking at myself, and my gut reaction was one of envy. The lighting highlighted my arms and my stomach, where some slight abs are beginning to develop. It also highlighted my stretch marks on my side, my upper chest, and my profile frame. I viewed myself as sexy, and fucking lost it. I cried so fucking much. It took me like 15 minutes to stop. I'm so happy I've accomplished this, and I'm not even done. I'll never be done after an experience like that.

I want to thank everyone from all the health subreddits (CICO, fasting, 1200isplenty, loseit, progresspics) for a lot of my motivation. I literally have a Reddit account just to view these daily, and the stories a see and read are so damn motivational. I couldn't do it without y'all.

TL;DR Caught myself in the mirror, and thought I was sexy. Never viewed myself like this, cried for 15 minutes.

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Don’t look back in anger (at yourself)

I had this realisation the other day... one of those things that seems SO obvious, and maybe to most people it is! But it’s definitely something that hadn’t occurred to me, so I wanted to share it in case it helps anyone else on their weight loss journey!

It’s often said that we shouldn’t compare our progress to other people’s, but how about not comparing it to our own past selves either? I’ve been a whole rainbow of sizes and weights over the course of my life. I’ve been on all sorts of fitness quests and tried all sorts of diets. I’ve had long periods of weight loss and weight gain..

Recently, when trying to shed some weight I’ve tried to instantly snap into a low calorie eating plan and exercise every day, because I remember my past self at some stage being able to easily eat 1200kcal/day. I feel so deflated when I can’t do it now. I question my resolve, call myself an idiot with no willpower, basically mentally beat myself up about it! But I’m looking at a snapshot from the past. I forget to factor in the months I spent prior to the 1200/day memory I’m looking at, where I slowly reduced my calorie input as I lost weight and adjusted to my new diet. I also forget that it’s the fact that I’m actually in a better place now mentally that makes me question whether it’s worth being tired all day for the sake of a few hundred calories less!

So don’t compare yourself to anyone else, but also don’t compare yourself to yourself!!!! Just make slow, sustainable changes.

submitted by /u/Pepperparsley
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i'm obese!

hi! i'm pepper and i'm obese. i've been admiring the hard work and results of everyone on this subreddit for a pretty long time, so i finally decided to join!

i've been overweight and dealing with weight loss my whole life. in 2018, i lost a lot of weight. at that point, it was the lowest weight i've ever been. i was getting compliments from everyone, which obviously made me really happy. despite this, i still hated myself. i hated the way i was shaped and the way i looked in general, and people around me still continued to body shame me.

fast forward to 2020 and i gained everything i lost. in fact, i gained 25kg.

currently, i'm at the heaviest weight i've ever been and i'm miserable. i never stop thinking about food or my weight, it's exhausting. i'm tired of people not respecting me and treating me differently because of my weight. i hate that i'm ashamed to go outside and can't wear clothes that i like.

at this point, i don't really believe in myself anymore, i feel like i won't be able to lose weight, but i guess i have to try once more. i don't want to let a food addiction and laziness win.

the reason why i'm writing this post is just to motivate myself and find some support and advice that i really need. how do i work on my food addiction and find the strength to keep going?

submitted by /u/pepperrwinch
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from loseit - Lose the Fat https://ift.tt/3837OuO