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notjustafatgirl-blog ¡ 7 years
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Remember 9/12/2001
We all remember the exact detail of every moment when 9/11 happened. We remember what we had for breakfast, where we were, who we were with and the feelings and confusion when those planes hit the World Trade Center.
 Even 16 years later, we relive the feelings and we tell the story and compare. But what about the day after? Today my blog post is about remembering 9/12.
 September 11th will always be remembered, forever in our minds and now in history books. My niece and nephew will learn about the terrorist attack in school and ask me, “Asha, where were you when this happened?” Similar to how I would talk to my grandma about Pearl Harbor or my mom about the JFK assassination.
 I was in Ohio when the attack happened. I couldn’t begin to process what had just occurred. After finding comfort with friends I decided to drive back to Pittsburgh and be with family.
Honestly, the rest of the day is a blur. I don’t remember anything I did after the attacks, only the moment during. I know I drove home, but did I watch tv? Did we make dinner or go out? Was I at my mom or dads house? No matter how hard, I just can’t remember the after.
 What I do remember is waking up on September 12 with a sense of paralyzing fear. I didn’t feel safe, I questioned what would happen today. Is the “worst” of it over? Will there be more death and sadness today?
My mind was still having trouble processing what had happened only 24 hours ago. My mind couldn’t comprehend the cruelty. I couldn’t comprehend the hatred and I couldn’t comprehend the heartlessness of it all.
 At the time, I didn’t follow politics but I put my trust in the government, the president and security but I was suddenly angry at them but no one in particular. How could they let this happen? How did these terrorists get past our security? I travel a lot and suddenly I don’t want to go anywhere. I lost trust in everyone I expected to protect us. My little bubble completely shattered. I felt vulnerable and exposed to a group that had no regard for life and lived guilt free of the blood on their hands.  
 Just as much as I was angry, I was heartbroken. On September 12, that is the first day of getting on with the rest our lives but everything changed. As first respondents dug through the debris, families lost the hope they clung to a day before.   We had to suddenly figure out how to come together when what felt like the whole world falling apart.  
 I became obsessed, watching the news, the specials and reading every newspaper article. I searched for answers to questions I didn’t know how to ask. I hoped for answers that even now, years later, still have never been answered.
 I didn’t know then what I do now after countless terrorist attacks. It seems we can’t turn on the television without seeing another attack, another country and another life. I worry that we will eventually become desensitized by it.  On September 11th,  we were knocked down with crippling fear. On September 12, despite the fear of the unknown, we started to brush ourselves off, come together and stand taller. We found simple comfort in a stranger’s smile. We found strength In unknown heroes and we found pride in the country we love. Different religions, political parties, races, gay, lesbians, transgender, single, straight, immigrant and citizen found a common goal, found a common strength to stand together and together we stood strong.
 I didn’t know anyone who lost their lives on 9/11, I didn’t have to because it could have been any one of us. They were mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, big brothers, little sisters. They had breakfast, they had work meetings, planning dinner when they got home. They were faces on a Subway, a street corner and in someone’s picture frame.
 So as we remember September 11th, we also need to remember September 12th and know that in a world that is bitterly divided, we can still be stronger together. We can still be that nation that despite intolerance and indifference, once stood for all the same things on that day in September. We vowed to be better, we vowed to be strong and not give in to terrorism and hatred. We aren’t perfect, we’ll never be. We get angry and we get annoyed but we also have the potential every morning to be the best versions of ourselves. We can practice more love then hate and more laughter then tears. We may not change the world, but we can leave behind a legacy and we can leave behind strength and courage for the next generation.
#NeverForget 
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notjustafatgirl-blog ¡ 8 years
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Failing and Falling
I fell off the wagon, hard! I’m ashamed because I am falling back into old unhealthy routines. I am going back to the place that I swore I would never go back to. I am gaining the pounds that I fought so hard to lose. It’s a terrible feeling and even worse that I know I was on the right track, I was doing well and I was losing.
Looking back, I’m not sure at what point, “I gave up.” It wasn’t waking up one morning and saying, “I’m not working out anymore. I’m eating a cheeseburger.” It happened over time and I started to give up workouts for sleeping in and nachos for salads.
 I knew I was slipping so I started seeing a personal trainer. He is great and pushes me beyond what I thought my body was capable of but I still couldn’t control my eating. Since our first weigh in, I am actually up in weight. That’s not how it should be working.  I can’t even use the saying, “muscle weighs more than fat,” because let’s be real, it’s not muscle, it’s fat. 
 The hardest part is I know I have it in me. I know what my mind is capable of and the choices that I can make. I tried on clothes from last year and if they weren’t insanely snug, they didn’t fit at all. I threw away my “fat” clothes because I didn’t want the reminder, I didn’t want to need them again and here I am unable to wear my “thin” clothes.
 I am a binge eater. It’s embarrassing and shameful to admit, but it’s also something I have to accept to move on and heal from. I can work out, I can eat healthy but at least twice a week, it’s like something takes over and I lose all control.  My mind is a constant battle and I know the consequences of eating a box of pasta or a bag of donuts. Every day is a struggle and some days I am stronger then my excuses and stronger than the control food has on me. I mentally know that when the food is gone, I am going to hate myself, I am going to regret it and I may cry but physically, I still eat all of it. It’s a sad circle that just destroys me. When you are in a constant loop, you can’t find the way out so you continue and just hope that the next turn will be different. 
It’s a horrible place to be in. This weekend, I am making that same promise to myself that I did 2 years ago. I am doing it for my health, my travels and for all the people I love.  I bought some journals for binge eating and there is a workbook with it. Once I am open and honest with eating, hopefully I can figure out my triggers. I am starting over and going back to the basics. It worked before so I know I am strong and I know I can find my place again and get back on that path to healthy and clean eating.
There is an Overeaters Anonymous meeting on Thursday that I am considering attending. I’m not sure if it’s for me because they focus on spiritual and higher power strength which isn’t how my beliefs are. I don’t think there is a higher power that can help me control my habits. I feel that is up to me and me alone.  I want to stay open-minded though because despite their beliefs, we are all in the same place. We all carry the same burden and same struggle. It’s hard to understand and easy to tell someone to just go on a diet when you are on the outside.  I don’t know what the right words are to say or the proper way to act, but with a support group, maybe I can really get through this and make friends and work on it together.
 I didn’t give up all those months ago so why am I letting myself give up now? I saw results, I pushed my body and it felt good! For the first time in years, I felt healthy, strong and just proud. I don’t want to lose those feelings entirely. I don’t want to go back to body shaming myself and talking down to myself in the mirror. I don’t want the unhealthy relationship with the scale.
Today starts a new journey. It may be the same path, but I have to start over, I have to fight. I am in control over my choices. I am in control over my body and I am in control of the food.  The choices I make are mine and I have no one to blame but myself. If I want to get there, I HAVE to get there!
 Will I slip? Yes! Will I fall? Only if I allow myself. Will I give up? I can’t!
 This is my life and I am taking control before I spin entirely out of control! I am finding the way out of the loop. Food will not win, I won’t allow that.  I have what it takes and I WILL do this! Even through blood, sweat and tears, I will get through this. it won’t happen overnight but it WILL happen! 
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notjustafatgirl-blog ¡ 8 years
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Mega Muffin Top is my Favorite Superhero
Here it is, August 8th… almost the end of summer.  It was a good summer spent with amazing people, amazing trips and amazing concerts and also an amazing 20 pound gain. The gain is from my lowest last year- just to preface I did not gain 20 pounds in 2 ½ months… give me a tiny bit of credit.
 I fell into a habit of having more fun than “healthy” with one more drink, one more bite, one more handful and one more s’more.   I was conscious of everything I ate but made the excuse, “I’ll work it off tomorrow,” or “I’ll start fresh on Sunday.” (Que, Paula Abdul- Promise of a New Day theme music) Well, I’m still waiting for tomorrow and Sunday, because those vows haven’t happened yet.
 I thought I was dedicated by signing up with a personal trainer two times a week. I basically paid some fit dude to keep me company for a half hour because what we did in the gym, I lost it in the kitchen. I have been going to a personal trainer for about 3 months now and just weighed myself yesterday for the first time and I was up 4 pounds from when we began. Granted, I stress the scale is just a number and I can’t base my progress solely on that but this case, it hit deep.  With a trainer I should be losing, I should be stronger and I should be dedicated.   I should know if we are at a picnic, what I should and shouldn’t eat. I’m not going to lose if I can’t get let myself make healthy decisions.  I did it before, so why is it so hard to get back in that groove now?  I allowed myself 1 cheat day a week and never felt I missed out but this summer I’ve been allowing myself two healthy days and five days of shit eating. I feel miserable and even worse, I look miserable. I think we are all beautiful and when I say I look miserable, it’s not that I think I am ugly or disgusting. I can just see in my face a sort of lack of confidence. Last summer when I was losing, I had more energy, I felt better, I felt healthy and confident because I was pushing my body and treating it well. I was treating myself with respect and love.
 I had to go out and buy new pair of shorts in a bigger size because last year’s shorts didn’t fit. At first, I was stubborn and refused to accept it. I stuffed myself into them, buttoned them and looked in the mirror. I had mega muffin top, camel toe- name whatever horrible description you have, I had it.  Which now I think I will get licensed and turned into a super hero. Mega Muffin Top, she can make you say, “fuck” on demand and throw a scale through the mirror.  Her costume, too tight shorts and a scowl.  Bitch.
I did my first 5K this past week. I was excited to get running again because they were one of my favorite things to do last summer…. I stress… LAST SUMMER! My first one wore me out! I couldn’t run like I did and I had to walk more than I ran. Granted, there were 2 steep hills that nearly knocked me out, but I kept going. I refused to give up and if I had to crawl across the finish line, I was finishing this race. Side Note: Who puts a finish line at the top of a hill?! So, I accepted my medal red faced, sweaty and 2 seconds from going to the emergency room. I did finish, I did push myself and I didn’t finish last. I felt great and I felt healthy! I thought that feeling was what I needed to get me back on track….  Fast Forward a week later- I was away for the weekend for a concert in Hershey…. I had a chocolate martini, a cheese steak and fries, pizza and wings and beer….. I also have a 5K this Saturday and an obstacle race in 2 weeks…… So, that’s awesome, huh.
 One thing I swore when I started writing and sharing this journey was I would be honest about the good, the bad and the ugly. This post is no different. I am being brutally honest when I say I am struggling. I know weight loss and being healthy is a daily struggle and I am letting it win. I am letting it control me again! I promised myself I would never go back to the “old” me and I am breaking that promise slowly. I would get emails from friends who would tell me, I was an inspiration for them to get healthy. Now, they are MY inspiration!!   I am letting them and myself down for what, a tasty treat at night,  a night of binge drinking, a double handful of M&M’s?  The food doesn’t last but the regret lasts… It will last for days constantly reminding you, you fucked up, girl! I want to be in control of my mind and body and this is the furthest I’ve gone from that path. I feel like I am losing control and I will crash before I can correct the swerve and get straight again.
 I lost 64 pounds last year by eating healthy, working out and accepting this as a lifestyle. I used natural ingredients and stayed away from boxed foods. I loaded up on veggies and fruits and when I wanted a piece of chocolate, I had a small piece of chocolate. I had a cheat day, where I didn’t go nuts, but I allowed myself a cheeseburger or a dessert because I knew 1 day would not be a slide.  I want that girl back. I want the girl in control over food, not who I am today, the girl who lets food control her.
I can’t hire someone to slap my hand away from bad decisions, this is MY journey and I have to make my own way. I have to pave my own path and I want it to be blazing! I never want to live to be ordinary, I want to shine and have a star named after me. if I don’t like something, I have to be the one to change it. I’m the only one who can control the choices I make.
So today, once again, I am making a promise to myself, my family, my friends and random strangers who might just happen to read this, I am not playing the victim anymore. I am taking the control back. I will not let food win anymore. I’ve done it before so I know I have the strength to do it again.  
You’re right Justin Bieber (Beiber?) It’s time to go and love myself.
Also, Here is one more sentence because I physically cannot be okay ending a blog post with a Bieber song. Sorry......
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notjustafatgirl-blog ¡ 8 years
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Making Sense in a Senseless World
Someone asked me today what I thought about the shooting in Orlando. I tried to avoid having to talk about it at all. Not out of ignorance but out of sadness. What new words can I possibly use that I haven’t said when 9/11 happened. What feelings can I express that weren’t already expressed for France, for Sandy Hook, for the Colorado theater shooting and all the ugly violence that almost has become a regular occurrence.  
The words, “Hate,” “Mass shooting,” “Terrorism,” “Death,” “gun control,” and “mental illness” have become a staple in my vocabulary.  At some point, your body shuts down and you become numb to it.  Are we now at that point, where we just accept tragic events are going to happen? Do we accept we live in a world full of hate and intolerance? Do we hide who we are because we are afraid to get killed for being different, unique and special? I hope not, I hope we are able to always just give a little bit more no matter how battered and bruised we feel. I hope we always find strength and comfort in the world because despite it all, there is always good. It may be hard but just 1 glimmer of hope can get you through. Just 1 smile in a world of hate can make a difference to someone’s day.  If we can’t have peace in the world, I hope we can find it within ourselves.
But how can one person change the world? Honestly, I have no idea but if you take the religious theory, one man created an entire world. If you take the evolution theory, one ape created mankind, so ask me that again because I can tell you, stranger things have happened.  I know I am one person and I know that me alone, can only make a tiny ripple in an ocean, but that ripple can carry out, it doesn’t have to stop. There are a lot of people out there and if one person can stand alone then they will quickly realize they are standing together, united, with the same hope.
Do I expect the world to change over night? Not a chance, not even a couple years. We are a bitterly divided nation and the divide can’t be super glued together. There is no Band-Aid strong enough to hold it all because eventually the bond will break. It takes constant tragedies and lives lost for us to show our strength, to show our pride and our love. Why do we lose that on a daily basis? Why is compassion and love so hard to come by? Why do we judge first? We are probably missing out on some amazing stories and journeys.
The big debate, “We will never let terrorism win.” Say what you will but to me, they’ve already won. We are at a constant argument over gun control and mental illness. Each side unwillingly to compromise, each side getting angrier with every debate and life lost. We are fighting amongst each other and saying words we can never unsay.  While I believe every sane person has a right to own guns, I have to question why a person would need an assault rifle?  Can we make the laws stronger, yes, I’m sure that somehow could be done, but I don’t think it would be a fix all situation.  
ISIS needs to be stopped and I am not political and I have no way of knowing if we are doing enough to combat terrorism but it continues to happen almost regularly now so I would say no. According to reports the FBI talked to the Orlando shooter and closed the case. Having talked to him in the first place should have a been a red flag. There should be no closed cases in terrorism.
With mental illness, it’s not as easy to make stronger laws. People need help, they need access to medication, doctors and therapy. Our healthcare in this country is weak. We can’t save everyone, I understand that, but maybe there was hope for one sick boy who shot up an elementary school. Maybe there was hope for one sick man who shot up an entire movie theater.  Maybe I live in a bubble or naive to the world, but I refuse to believe the entire world is filled with this much rage and hate. I refuse to accept that nothing can be done. That “it’s going to happen” anyways. Maybe it will, but at least we can say we tried and fought a hell of a fight despite that.
Social media and 24 access news coverage just seems to glorify the events. I am guilty of it too. These terrorists and shooters know when they carry out the violence the whole world will know in a matter of minutes.  They became “heroes” and “vigilantes” to those who approve.  A little boy of 8 years old is watching and seeing the acknowledgment how one man went down in history for religion and suddenly, a little boy idolizes him. These are the role models other countries use to fuel their religion, their hatred and intolerance.
I get questioned constantly about my choice to not have kids. At first it was just pure selfish reasons of wanting to travel and I enjoy my freedom. I’ve always been on the fence about them but now, this world makes me want to protect myself and if I question my security constantly, how can I protect a child? When I go out to big events, there is now always a glimpse of panic if something should happen. Could this happen here? Sadly, after living through all of it, we know it can happen anywhere. No place is safe.  We can’t even send our kids to school without worrying if some child is bringing a gun to school. “You can’t let terrorism scare you,” I’ve heard, which is a true statement and I try to not let that lead any decision when I travel abroad but I would be lying if I said I didn’t. I would be lying if I said I didn’t judge someone on first glance sitting on the plane and I would be lying if I said I have no fear that anything could happen to me.  No one expects it and I’m sure no one thought celebrating a night out or going to school would be their last day. I am preaching to better ourselves and this includes me as well. I have a lot of self-discovery left to do.
I don’t want to raise a child in a judgmental nation that has to label everything. They can’t simply be children anymore. They are gay, they are straight, black or white, fat or scrawny… we can’t let them be kids. We can’t embrace their unique differences, only bully them for it.  It’s like no matter what we do to try to live up to this unobtainable standard, it will never be good enough.  Let me tell you, we are all fucking weird. I let my weirdness lead my creativity. I laugh about it and I accept it. Children don’t understand this, they only accept what’s being said at face value. They are defined by these words and grow up never feeling good enough, never being at peace and this is not fair. How dare we not give children a fighting chance to be anything they want to be. How dare we let them settle for being “just” gay, just black, just different.  Shame on media and entertainment for making them feel anything less than loved. Yet these are the children we hope will make the nation a better place? I have no doubt that some will, some will probably end up finding a cure for cancer while others will just only live up to what they were told was all they could ever be. No one should limit themselves.
I lost my point about 6 paragraphs ago. I just get so fired up how different this world has become in just a matter of years. I’m not sure who is to blame. I don’t think there is any one person because there are just too many open issues. It’s not just terrorism anymore. It’s just not mental illness anymore and it’s not just a matter of gun control anymore. We’ve proudly stood as Americans and took every punch and blindsided blow. We may have wobbled and we may have shook, but we never fell. We need each other now more than ever, all of us, democrats, republicans, gays, lesbians, transgender, female, male, Catholics, Muslims, Christians, obese, thin, tall or short.   We need to embrace the differences and make our home great again. Instead of being divided with each other, let’s be an army of one and fight for our lives. There is way too much to fight for so why are we fighting against each other? I chose love because I am Orlando, I am  Charlie Hebdo, I am Sandy Hook and I am Aurora. We all are
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notjustafatgirl-blog ¡ 8 years
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Yesterday I woke up and said, “I have to work out but first I have to do this……” I never worked out.
We are all busy throughout the day with work, children, errands, social media and housework. I’ve learned if I want something bad enough, I suddenly have time and do everything to get it.
Working out is no different. Especially with effective workouts getting shorter and shorter. There is even a 22 minute hardcore workout. Who doesn’t deserve a half hour of “me” time a day?
Time is no longer a valid excuses to not workout. We find time everyday to do things.
I worked out everyday last week and almost through this week. Since I didn’t work out yesterday, I’ll count that as my rest day then workout on Sunday. It’s planning and setting up a schedule. The moment I use the word “but” after saying I’m working out, I let the excuses win.
Since I work 10 to 10 every Sunday to Tuesday, I set my alarm at 6am. It’s early, it sucks, it’s a long day and I’m tired but I get it done. I never feel any worse after a workout. That early morning workout sets the tone of my day!
So try some small changes. Look at your calender 2 weeks ahead and I guarantee you can find some extra time to workout if you wanted. When that time comes, no excuses. You wouldn’t miss a planned meeting or a rehearsal so don’t miss the workout!
Pretty soon, it will get easier and it will just be another part of your day. I slept in today but as soon as I got up, I worked out. Now I can enjoy the day without worrying about when I will get my workout in.
Prioritize, plan and be stronger than your excuses.
#sweatyhair #digdeeper
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notjustafatgirl-blog ¡ 8 years
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Yesterday I woke up and said, "I have to work out but first I have to do this......" I never worked out. We are all busy throughout the day with work, children, errands, social media and housework. I've learned if I want something bad enough, I suddenly have time and do everything to get it. Working out is no different. Especially with effective workouts getting shorter and shorter. There is even a 22 minute hardcore workout. Who doesn't deserve a half hour of "me" time a day? Time is no longer a valid excuses to not workout. We find time everyday to do things. I worked out everyday last week and almost through this week. Since I didn't work out yesterday, I'll count that as my rest day then workout on Sunday. It's planning and setting up a schedule. The moment I use the word "but" after saying I'm working out, I let the excuses win. Since I work 10 to 10 every Sunday to Tuesday, I set my alarm at 6am. It's early, it sucks, it's a long day and I'm tired but I get it done. I never feel any worse after a workout. That early morning workout sets the tone of my day! So try some small changes. Look at your calender 2 weeks ahead and I guarantee you can find some extra time to workout if you wanted. When that time comes, no excuses. You wouldn't miss a planned meeting or a rehearsal so don't miss the workout! Pretty soon, it will get easier and it will just be another part of your day. I slept in today but as soon as I got up, I worked out. Now I can enjoy the day without worrying about when I will get my workout in. Prioritize, plan and be stronger than your excuses. #sweatyhair #digdeeper
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My Out of Retirement Comeback
   For the first time since I started my fitness/weight loss journey, today I looked in the mirror and I couldn’t think of one positive thing to say.  I weighed myself and I am up 13 pounds from my lowest weight last year. I know it’s “only” 13 pounds but coming as far as I have, I should be closer to my goal, not further away. In fact, I should have already met my goal by now!
 Last year, I was dedicated. I pushed myself and I never let myself give up. I never gave into the temptations and I worked hard. What followed was cockiness. I was working out, looking good and feeling better so I started falling into, “Well I am working out, I can eat 1 more cupcake or 1 more small bowl of pasta.” If it was just 1 day here and there, I’m sure it wouldn’t add up to much, but the more I allowed myself a treat or a cheat, the harder it was to so say no the next time. Suddenly, I am falling back into old eating habits and even though I still kept working out, I was eating the wrong foods. My workouts have been less effective because my body started getting tired. Here I was, eating clean and being healthy to eating chips and barely making it through my DVD. I basically was working out just to eat crap food. I wasn’t losing, just staying the same and then slowly gaining.
 I did a lot of traveling this past year and I didn’t watch what I ate. I was on vacation, I didn’t have to. After all the travels, I came home to a tarnished attitude and I never really got out of vacation mode. That attitude is taking me down a path I swore to myself I would never visit again.  My clothes, although still fit, seem a little tighter and I keep questioning the sudden roundness to my face in pictures. I don’t like how I look anymore.  I am letting down all the people I inspired, who supported me but mostly I am letting down myself.  I know I can do this! I was doing this so I have no excuses but pure ignorance and laziness.
 My health is still fine and I can’t let that change. I refuse to be on pills again and I refuse to be a size 18/20. So 13 pounds may not seem like much, but in the big picture, that 13 is a lot more than just pounds. It was my attitude and my lack of motivation and dedication when I should have stayed true to my journey.  My rewards were coming in full meals and full candy bars. I was ordering wings over grilled chicken and chocolate over fruit. I was conscious of what I was doing and I kept telling myself not to eat it but I lost the self control I worked so hard to maintain.  
 I even stopped writing my blogs and tracking my food. I posted some pictures here and there but I didn’t have anything else holding me accountable.  I promised I would be real with everyone who asked me for advice, who text me pictures of their very own journey that I inspired and to be there for anyone who needed. This journey is hard both physically and mentally. I am in a constant battle with my mind, body and food and if I start giving up on myself now, I will never reach my goal. I don’t want to be any less inspiring because I promised some of you, I would be right there beside you on your very own fitness goals.
 I don’t want to hate myself and I don’t want to start the negative self talk again. It wasn’t just the weight I wanted to lose, I also wanted to lose my insecurities and self doubt. I acknowledge and accept that I have fallen a bit, but I also will make a goal to improve myself once again.  This time, I am going back to basics. I am going to go back a few steps so I can go further a few jumps. I am going to continue to work out 6 times a week. I am going to stay active on my blog, even if it’s just a short little quote. I am going to revisit my reason for beginning all this in the first place. I may be taking the slow route and choosing the wrong path at the fork in the road, but I am making a U-turn and going down the right direction. I will not allow myself to give in or give up.
 So consider this my apologetic comeback. I’m sorry I let you down and myself down. It’s time to brush off my knees, give myself a pat on the back with an it’s okay, and get back on it. So I ask for your support once more in my journey. I am admitting, this is something I cannot do alone. I need people in my corner cheering for me.
 Today marks a brand new day. This morning’s weigh- in is over with, and I can only start fresh from here. I can only believe in myself and my strength and know that I can get there and I will get there!
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Hell No, Plateau!
Let’s just dive right into this post. I hate the plateau!  I have been teetering between 186/190 for the past 2 1/2 months. My main goal when I started my weight loss was always to be healthy and off all the medication my doctor prescribed. Once I hit that goal, I didn’t really have another goal other than to lose weight. I never had a set number, size or time frame.
While I know I will never be skinny or a size 2, I’ve made peace with that. Come on, I have broad shoulders and girls got some hips so I have to be realistic in order to succeed. I don’t want to be skinny. I want to be strong and as long as I’m healthy, happy and comfortable in my own skin, then I think I’ve done the best I could do.
To help with my plateau, I decided to join Weight Watchers. I track my food already, so this move would be a natural transition for me. I thought the weekly meetings would be a great system of support for people who are just like me. Their stories and thoughts could motivate and inspire me just as I could do the same for them.
When I first met my leader, we briefly discussed my progress and then she asked me what my goal was. Duh, clearly it’s to lose weight. She smiled at my obvious answer and then asked me if I had any range in mind. I thought about it and for once in my life, I realized I never had a set number. I had no goal number to strive for. Truth be told, I have no idea how low my body could even go while still being the strong and healthy I wanted. For my height and weight on the BMI chart, it seems entirely too low for my body type. I discuss all my weight loss and workouts with a doctor and have maintained under his care but we never really approached my weight loss on a BMI structure.  According to the chart, for my height I should be 104-141 lbs.  Right or wrong, I set my goal to be 150-160 lbs. ( If I can lose more and still look/feel healthy, then that’s a bonus!) I think this seems like a healthy normal weight range for me. Even with this goal, my BMI is still considered overweight. (Is this thing really practical?!) 
So now that I set my goal weight, how do I get there? How do I motivate myself? What can I do differently then what I’ve been doing to get me over the plateau?
My last Weight Watcher’s meeting, we had to make a vision board. We had to bring in pictures of what motivates us to get healthy and stay healthy. When I started getting pictures, it came so quickly.  Once I hit my first goal, I kind of forgot the reasons behind it. I got a little lost in the smaller size and the smaller girl in the mirror. I have my routine down but I don’t want it to be a routine. I don’t want it to feel like just another part of my day. It’s not! It’s one of the best part of my days when I workout! Eating healthy are the best meals of the day because I don’t feel run down or “blah” because I ate too much or over-indulged. That little treat is well deserved and it tastes that much better! 
I made my vision board and looking at it. I got my motivation back and my thoughts back! On the board I put pictures of my family and friends because without their love, support and obvious concern,  I would have just stayed heavy. I would have just been content being “okay” for the rest of my life. I put a picture of Charlie and I because I want a long life with him. I don’t want our memories together cut short. I included travel pictures because one of my favorite things to do is explore the world. I never want to be too big to sit in an airplane seat or too out of breath to walk around foreign countries. I included a lot of motivating quotes but one of the biggest things that I put on my board was where I was and where I am now. Seeing how far I’ve come only gave me the hunger to keep going! I didn’t give up then so I cannot let myself give up now! I’m closer to my goal now then I was a year ago. I pushed through and will continue to push myself everyday! 
I put the vision board on my fridge because then I can see it everyday! It’s not about seeing it before I eat to keep me from falling off the wagon but rather to remind me, I can eat a little snack, I can eat some chocolate and still make it! It reminds me not to be too hard on myself and all the sweat, tears, aches and pains are worth it! It’s my life and I have control. It reflects my strength and dedication to myself and my health. 
It’s been 2 weeks on Weight Watchers and I am currently down 4.2 pounds. It’s the first time I’ve moved in awhile. Whether it was setting another goal or using my vision board I am more motivated and I got the “pep” back. Weight Watchers gives us a healthy weight loss goal of 1-2 pounds a week. It’s a lifestyle change (as everyone says) It’s not a fad diet. I can literally eat anything I want as long as I stay in my point value. Life is too short for salads so let me have a burger, let me have a piece of cake once in awhile!  This program is perfect for a “normal” lifestyle. Obviously, you have to be smart about it too! Smart decisions equal smart results!
I encourage anyone who is stuck in a rut to make a vision board and put it somewhere you will see it everyday. It doesn’t just have to be a weight loss vision but it could be work related, life related, travel related... anything that you love, turn it into a vision then turn it into a reality.
It’s not suppose to be easy, if it was, we would have nowhere else to go. Set goals, set dreams and make milestones!
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notjustafatgirl-blog ¡ 9 years
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My name is Ashley and i’m a food-aholic. (Hi Ashley!)
I haven’t written mostly because I’m kind of feeling awful with myself and my eating habits. How could I possibly write advice if I’m not following it myself.
One thing I’ve always had trouble with, even as a little kid, is binge eating. As a child though, I didn’t realize that’s what was happening. When I think of an eating disorder, I ignorantly think of anorexia or bulimia. I’ve never starved myself (Come on, I’m chubby and love food) and I never binged and purge. I realized however, through dumb innocence, that binging even without the purging is an eating disorder.
The verb binge is defined as, “indulge in an activity, especially eating, to excess.”  Hello, my name is Ashley and I am a binge eater. (Hi Ashley!)
 I could pass on chips, soda or burgers but sweets, mostly chocolate are my weakness! Before I moved back to Ohio, I lived 2 blocks away from a Giant Eagle. Even when I followed the rule of not having it in the house meant I wouldn’t eat it, I could still get in my car, drive 3 minutes and buy it. This was my guilty secret affair with food. I had a pretty stressful job in sales and hitting goals, and I constantly felt on edge. While I enjoyed the position, I also felt a lot of pressure. I would come home and always have to pass the grocery store which meant I had to stop. I guess work was my excuse to justify my gorging. I would try so hard and in my mind I would tell myself, “No, drive home!” but in a binge situation, you lose all self control and quite frankly, self respect. There were nights I would go and buy half of a chocolate cake, a pint of Ben and Jerry’s and just eat till I was sick. I would eat way beyond full and then way beyond that. I could never finish the entire cake or ice cream so when I couldn’t take anymore, I would hate myself and throw the food in the trash.
 I ate without tasting, without feeling but not without guilt. The binge was never worth it and the aftermath of guilt and shame was worse. I couldn’t stop though and this happened anywhere from once a week to my worst of 3 times a week. I would eat myself to tears, throw away the food, then cry and tell myself how worthless I was. It’s a brutal way to treat yourself and when your mind tells your body it’s disgusting, it doesn’t leave much room for loving yourself.
 On the days I didn’t binge, I ate normal. I wouldn’t say the healthiest, but I wouldn’t say I was terrible either. I knew I was getting heavier but when you are already big, 10 pounds doesn’t make much of a difference. When you feel low, lower isn’t that far to jump. It’s not something I was proud of it, but like an alcoholic to a drink, it was a need that I couldn’t satisfy. Even though I was miserable afterwards and often times laying in bed with a stomach ache, the consequences weren’t enough to get me to stop. When I saw a cupcake, I needed 2. When I saw a piece of cake, I needed 3 and when I saw a chocolate bar, I needed a king size. It was a very unhealthy relationship which played a huge part in my diabetes and high blood pressure.
 When I met Charlie, the binges lessened and I actually was getting accustomed to a “normal” eating habit. They weren’t gone completely, maybe once every 2 weeks. As time progressed and I moved to Ohio, they lessened even more. I got another job that was stress free and I enjoyed it. We live further in the country, so I couldn’t just stop at the grocery store when I felt a food urge come on.  I was taking on a whole new adventure and I wanted to give up that lifestyle. Plus, I was living with Charlie so it was harder to hide and explain how an entire bag of Oreos went missing.
 A year ago, I swore to myself I would lose weight, get off all medication and be healthy. I have accomplished all those goals but lately, I think since I’m doing so well, I find myself getting more relaxed with eating. I use the excuse, “Oh, I’ll just work out!” I haven’t binged in the way I use to, I can’t let myself go back to that, but I notice I am wanting/craving more sweets. It’s not out of control, but I’m so afraid to let myself get to that place again.
 I workout everyday often times, twice a day and I push myself through the sweat and soreness so maybe I think I’m entitled to a sweet treat now and again! I think depriving myself of that is leading me to want to binge again. The last time I binged was a few months ago when Charlie was out of town. There was a box of Girl Scout Cookies and I ate the entire box. The next day when I worked out, I could feel those cookies and my workout was terrible! I was tired and had no energy. I was so mad at myself and tried to remember how I felt in that moment when I was reaching for something unhealthy. 
 While I haven’t gained any weight back, I’m still not losing much either. I am eating more sweets but since I continue to work out, I am balancing it out. I don’t want to just workout to eat, I want to work out to be healthy and lose weight so I can hit my goal weight. I find it harder to eat “bad” things in public because I feel like I am constantly being scrutinized by what I eat. I know it’s unintentional but when someone says, “Oh, if you eat this you will have to work out extra!” or my favorite one, “I know you can’t eat this but there is cake/food in the breakroom…” I know it’s meant out of genuine sincerity but it also puts this stigma on food and that self-deprivation tone which only makes me want it more and lots of it!  Now that I’m almost 60 pounds lighter, if I gain weight, people notice. So there is this constant pressure of looking those 60 pounds lighter!  When people tell me how great I look, it becomes a mind game to stay looking great. I know mentally no one can tell if I gained a pound or three but to me, I insist I can see it!
 Somehow I lost track of why I started this journey in the first place. Before I lose myself completely and fall into bad habits, I decided to go to a psychologist. I went to one who specialized in eating disorders and she really opened my eyes to a lot of food issues and behavioral issues. My first appointment was 2 hours and it went fast. I finally had someone I could just let everything out and she didn’t tell me I looked great, or that I would gain all my weight back, she simply said without judgment, “I understand.”  I wasn’t fixed in 2 hours, but she definitely “righted” my path and focus. I had to go to Giant Eagle after my appointment and I walked through the bakery almost daring myself to buy something and I didn’t. I walked by chocolate cupcakes with a mountain of icing, I walked by glazed doughnuts and cinnamon buns and I walked by a Boston Cream Pie cake. I walked through the candy aisle, I walked by the Little Debbies and Ho-Ho’s.  I would not let food take control of my life again. I came this far. I’ve done this well to just ruin it all over a worthless feeling of an empty hunger.  I was proud of myself and while it was only 1 trip and 1 day, that’s all it takes. I can only do this journey 1 day at a time, 1 trip at a time and 1 pound at a time. When I let myself have a treat once in awhile throughout the week, I don’t feel like I need it. I don’t feel this sudden urge to eat 5! I can sit back and savor it and enjoy my reward.
 I haven’t weighed myself in a month. I don’t know if I gained, loss or stayed the same. It was hard at first because of my scale obsession, but now, I like not having any added pressure on me. The scale issue is another subject I brought up with my “shrink” session. I’m not a quick fix but I have the heart, determination and drive to find the peace between my mind, body, scale and food.
 Even on those binge days, I still forced myself to workout. I won’t let the day be a wash because I binged. I do credit myself with strengths to stack on top of those weaknesses. I’m only human and I have to learn from my mistakes and grow from them. I have to trust myself and my actions and let them be enough. Even within the year, I have done so many positive things that I shouldn’t feel guilty or ashamed. My biggest goal was to be off medication and diabetes free, which I have done and maintained.
 I was thinking of going to Over Eaters Anonymous (guess I broke the anonymity rule!)  but much like AA, they teach you to fully abstain from binge eating and they “treat” you through the 12 step program. While I understand that on some level, I also don’t think for me at least, this would help. I don’t want to binge, but I also don’t want to fully make myself abstain from a Friday night BBQ with friends, a hot dog and fries at a ballgame or cake and ice cream at a birthday party. Maybe I should give it a try before I judge it, but completely giving up “bad” foods would only lead me to want them more. I think it would hinder my progress more than help. I did join an Over Eaters Anonymous group on Facebook to at least see what it’s all about. It’s still reassuring to talk to people who are in the same situation, who understand the thoughts and torment we go through just over food. They are strangers from all over the country so they have no bias nor any reason to be anything but truthful.
 So my next plan of action is to continue working out and continue to see the psychologist who can hopefully scrape through the surface of the binge eating and the control behind it. I also ordered a binge eating book and it comes with a 6 week workbook. I bought a Fitbit and have been using it every day. It syncs to Myfitnesspal so I can track all my meals. When I would binge, I would leave that out of my food diary. I could lie on paper but not to myself. Even on binge days, as few and far between as they are now, I am entering every morsel, every calorie and every meal. I can’t run from something that is right in my face! If I am 700 calories over my calorie goal, that’s on me! That holds me accountable! I also bought a journal. The journal will be more food based and when I feel those cravings to binge coming on, I want to write down how I feel and see if I can pinpoint my triggers. What makes me want to binge? Why?  Hopefully with a psychologist and my own thoughts, I won’t binge again. I need to learn there is a difference between binging and over eating at a social event. Much like the devil and angel on my shoulder, I need to listen to my own voice.
 I refuse to give up on myself! I am so proud of myself for how far I’ve come! With every new adventure, there comes a challenge. You discover new strengths, face old weaknesses and push through thresholds. It’s my life and it’s up to me how to live it. I have to keep telling myself I have the control over food not vice versa. I overcame diabetes, high blood pressure and 60 pounds so I know I can do this as well!  
 “Today I will do my best. If I have a good day, I will be proud of myself. If I have a bad day, I will not dwell on it, I will forgive myself, I will put it behind me and I will continue to move forward in my recovery”
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notjustafatgirl-blog ¡ 9 years
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With the warm weather, I was excited to get my summer clothes out. I tried them on and none of them fit!(There is more underneath. It's a great pyramid of clothes) This is my donate pile and I also made brownies tonight!
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notjustafatgirl-blog ¡ 9 years
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That “B” Ate What?! She’s going to Have to Work Out Twice Now!
First things first.. I’m not a nutritionist and I still struggle if I should eat wheat bread versus whole grain bread. I mean, should I even eat bread?  I have a sweet tooth and what baby wants baby gets so I basically sneak a piece of chocolate somewhere in my diet every other day...okay, maybe every day. 
I know the basic rule of thumb with calories in vs. calories burned but there are days where I play ignorant with math and I eat my daily caloric intake in 1 meal. I workout everyday and I push myself so I think a cheat meal is well deserved in moderation. 
This past weekend I went to Pittsburgh to visit my sister and my nephew. It’s been a few months since I saw them so my focus was enjoying the weekend! On Saturday, we had tickets to see the musical, Dirty Dancing. In true sister’s catch up form, we did margaritas and Mexican food before the show. We ordered chips and salsa, frozen margaritas and then I ordered a burrito WITH sour cream. I’m talking full fat sour cream on top of my white (not wheat!) tortilla wrap. I got to catch up with my sister and the calories I consumed were worth every minute of the conversation. I may have consumed 1200 calories but I laughed some of that off as well!
I spent the night and on Sunday my dad wanted to go to Olive Garden after church for a family dinner. Not one second did I worry about ordering healthy. It’s a family dinner and I don’t see them often. I ordered spaghetti and meatballs and yes, keep that cheese wheel turning because I might never say, “when.” Also, I had 3 bread sticks and to boot, I did not need a doggie bag this trip!
I’m not sure what the caloric count of the weekend was and I can guarantee I did not do enough walking or laughing to burn off half those meals. I do know, I got to hear my nephew giggle and laugh trying noodles for the first time. I got to see my dad so happy to have both his daughters home at the same time and I got to sit with my sister and laugh about stories, memories and pictures.
It was such a nice weekend and I would not let myself feel guilty for splurging and treating myself. I would not listen to the negative thoughts in my head telling me I should have ate a grilled chicken dinner. I let myself have that weekend!
On Monday, I woke up, put my sneakers on and I worked out without shame and without regret. I am human and I will make bad choices sometimes but as long as I make more good than bad, I think I’m doing something right. So often, we think we have to live a life of salads and apples just to lose weight! That’s insanity and will only lead you to fail. Moderation is key and when you don’t eat something you like everyday, it makes it that much more rewarding when you do treat yourself.
On Tuesday, I went shopping and tried on a pair of pants and learned I could (finally) fit into a size 12! That size 12 was a product of smart choices and a stomach full of delicious pasta! I didn't instantly gain back all 58 pounds I worked so hard to lose. I didn't instantly go back to a size 20 because of 1 weekend.
So be kind to yourself. If you want an extra scoop of ice cream one night after a rough day at work, eat it. Food is made to be enjoyed, not a regret. There will always be a new day and a fresh start to get back on track. 
if you have an unhealthy relationship with food and find yourself counting every calorie, I’m here to tell you, to be the proof that you can have a cheat day and still be beautiful, healthy and satisfied.  Make peace with yourself and trust your decisions. They may not always be perfect, but how boring would life be if they were? 
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notjustafatgirl-blog ¡ 9 years
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I’m Starting with the (Wo)man in the Mirror
First, let me start off by apologizing. I know it’s been a minute since my last post but as an aspiring singer/songwriter, model, reality superstar and Taylor Swift’s best friend, life just got in the way for a few weeks.
Even though I've been quiet, I assure you my dedication to my new life style has not. In fact, I took another step to my “old” but new me transformation. 
I have worn glasses my entire life. Not even trendy glasses and I have pictures of me in Harry Potter-esqu round glasses to prove it. (All while wearing a French beret.) In 5th grade I got a confidence boost when I was finally allowed to get contacts. No more foggy glasses after gym class, no more dried rain drops on lenses and no more sliding down my nose when I read!
I had a pretty high prescription so one thing years of glasses taught me were that wire frames never work unless I want to look like I have coke bottles taped to my face. I was condemned to a life of thick frames with an even thicker lens. I became reliant on my contacts and wore them all the time. It was rare I let someone actually see me in my glasses.
Fast forward to college and longer nights of studying, partying and late night sorority events, my contacts got tired along with me. I just got used to never knowing the time in the morning. I just got used to blurry shadows and I got used to the occasional contact being stuck to the wall above the waste basket.
Eye doctors, glasses, contacts and solution really add up every year but it was just something I had to pay for if I wanted to see the world. It was my reality.
Lasik was the new upcoming miracle surgery where they could “fix” your eye shape so you never have to wear glasses and contacts again. Sold! Risk of blindness and death? Let’s do it!
I went for a consultation and was denied. I was told my left eye (RIP Lisa Lefteye Lopez) was too weak that if I lost my right eye, I could not physically rely on my left eye alone. I mean, at this point in life, I was pretty lazy so as long as I didn't take a broken potato chip to the eye, I thought my chances were okay. They disagreed and even though I promised to sign in blood, they didn't let me pursue the surgery. I was broken-hearted but if begging and blood oaths didn't work, then I had nothing else and I gave up.
Years passed and I gave up on it all together and accepted life would be glasses and contacts. With Charlie and a co-worker referring me to a place in Ohio, I tried again. This time I went to Clear Choice and the place was amazing but I already went in with a negative attitude.  I explained what happened before and the doctor said, “What are we even doing if we can’t help your left eye as well?” He gave me the okay, and I told him I loved him. I had 3 appointments before the actual surgery and every single one, I was nervous this would be the point in the procedure they backed out and realize I was not a good candidate after all. Not only did I have the surgery, but my right eye is 20/20 and my left eye, wait for it, is 20/25 to 20/30. While I don’t know exactly know what those numbers mean, I do know the first doctor I went to, was not knowledgeable. If everything happens for a reason, then I’m glad I didn't go to some cheap branch with a doctor who wasn't even confident in his own procedure and skill. (Sill bitter? Kind of) 
I had to wear my glasses for 14 days before I could have the surgery. 14 days?! My confidence shook a bit because that was a big step to wear them every single day. I haven’t worn my glasses that long since I was a child!  My favorite part of my face are my eyes and I felt the glasses made me look tired and hid my best feature. I’m not silly though and I knew the end result would be worth it. I mustered up my courage and every morning I wore my glasses. I complained and whined a lot for the first week but then something happened. I would look in the mirror and liked how I looked in my glasses. I still had my best features starting back at me, I still looked smart, I still smiled the same and I just looked...pretty. The next week, there were no complaints, but compliments. I would actually get told how nice I looked in my glasses.  On the day of my surgery I was a little sad that I would never need my glasses again. It was bitter sweet because in only 2 weeks, I learned to love the part of me I tried to keep hidden. I’m already shopping for a fake pair for those “feeling intellectual” days. 
The surgery went well and it was so quick. It was about 5 minutes each eye and I could immediately see! The doctor insisted we take my first glasses/contacts free picture together. Even now, a week later, I think I should be taking my contacts out. For the first time, I woke up, and knew exactly what time it was! I took a shower and knew when I reached for the shampoo that it was in fact, shampoo! I can’t wait for my first trip when I don’t have to bring glasses, contacts, case, solution and extra contacts just in case I lose or rip one!   
So round two of me being vain... after the surgery, you can’t wear makeup for a whole week. Anyone who knows me, knows I love my makeup. I love spending time on my eyes and I am addicted to black eye liner. My first day back at work, I was so nervous and honestly, I felt so self conscious. I had a hard time making eye contact and just felt so exposed. Most people asked me about my surgery, but no one asked me about my makeup. They asked me how my recovery was, but no one asked me where my eye liner was. Everyone joked about me being able to see them flip me off but no one said I looked any different.  Monday was rough because I could tell the difference. I looked in the mirror and I saw dull eyes and uneven skin tone. On Wednesday, I was looking in the mirror and again, I started to enjoy the perfect flaws. I finally could see what I look like without makeup, I could appreciate the natural beauty in my face that again, I tried to hide. I was more concerned with what everyone else would think and they are the ones who didn't even notice. 
Last night, there was a big work event to celebrate a birthday party. I was not “cleared” to wear makeup yet so I fluffed up my hair, put on some glam lipstick and went out, makeup free and I had the best time! 
If you think you look fat, tired, ugly, hideous etc, you eventually train your brain to believe it. After years of looking in the mirror and telling myself this, I didn't know I had any other option but to be those negative qualities. When I looked in that same mirror and told myself my glasses are adorable and laugh about looking like a librarian, I learned to see the beauty. When I looked in the mirror and saw my clean face, I could see the true color of my eyes, the story behind the scar of a whim decision to get a nose ring and the sun damage from crazy days at the beach with friends. I was so self centered about looks, I just assumed everyone else would notice immediately too. I apologize now for not giving those people enough credit in the first place!
So I ask you to pick one thing you view as a  flaw and look in the mirror and every morning find a reason to love it. Find a reason to laugh about it and I promise you, you will learn to love it! Every part of you deserves to be loved! From the mole to the rolls and every scar in between. You’re still the same person with the same heart no matter how the outside looks. Believe it! Just look at celebrities who not only embraced their unique quality but also famous for it. Cindy Crawford and her mole. Madonna and the gap between her teeth and of course Julia Robert’s wide smile. 
So, here are two pictures that I would let me haunt me. The first one is of me in my glasses and the second is me sans any makeup. Don’t mind the NBA sweatband! I had to wear it after surgery when I worked out as to not get sweat in my eye!” Oh, and the first picture is at my grandma’s house. Trust me, I don’t own that many spoons and pots, especially not on a wall!   Love yourself first and everyone else will follow! 
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notjustafatgirl-blog ¡ 10 years
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2*4*6*8! Put More Food on my Plate!!
Like, this post, is like, totally going to be like about Cheerleading! 
From kindergarten on, my parents sent me to a small private Catholic school. With it being such a small school, you didn't get too much of the student hierarchy/stereotypes that I would assume comes with bigger schools. You were pretty much either "in" or you were "out." Luckily, I had close friends and we often called ourselves, (Way before Katy Perry, mind you!) the "California Girls." At this point in our adolescent lives, none of us had stepped foot in California or even close to it. We would hang out at recess and take pictures of ourselves and we just thought we were unstoppable. Also, looking back, we looked nothing like the Hollywood glam I know about now. I don't think Angelina Jolie ever wore stirrup pants. Ever.
 Our school had a basketball team, but no cheerleaders. Maybe the short skirts scared the nuns, maybe there wasn't enough interest, either way, I had to be a cheerleader! Finally, in my 3rd grade, my wish came true. They opened up spots for cheerleading. There were no try-outs, simply a smile, good job, you're in type of thing. Our outfits, if you want to call them that, were a royal blue shirt and the old basketball shorts the guys wore. It was the most fun I had and while I knew my shorts fit a bit tighter than the other girls, I didn't care! We were terrible cheerleaders and I say that with pride. We were young, full off immature laughs and a ignorant knowledge of basketball. 
From 3rd-5th grade, I continued cheerleading. We grew into strong young women who finally were allowed to wear a cheerleading skirt. Then in 5th grade, I started to get discouraged by the beliefs of a Catholic school. While I respect any religion and beliefs, the Catholic one, was just not for me. I decided to leave school and go to a public school.  It was the middle of the school year, but I didn't mind and looking forward to it.
At Quaker Valley, it was another smaller school for the most part. My dad was the Police Chief of the local town, so most people knew my last name. It wasn't too painfully  difficult to find friends and find a really great group to get me through the, "new girl" stage. I don't remember actually getting made fun of a lot because of my weight, but like I said in a previous blog, it mostly came out during fights or guys trying to be the funny man and make his buddies laugh. I was still unsure about myself, hidden insecurities and shyness.
Once I finally hit Jr. High, I found my spot within the school. I was much happier and always hanging out with best friends. The laughs and fun times often made me forget I was the biggest, probably in my entire grade. During Jr High, cheerleading tryouts opened and this time, I actually had to try out. It wasn't as simple or as equal. We went to practice all week then had to try out in front of the coach and a few other older girls.
It was painful and nerve-wracking. We all wanted it and I believe there were only 12 spots. There was nervous laughter and tears of girls who, "were terrible in try-outs." At that age, this was the biggest deal of our lives! This was our time to be someone! I, as naive as it sounds, put popularity and cheerleading in the same bowl! The coach came out and called numbers. You could hear the held breaths of everyone just letting out in relief. A few of my friend's number were called, I was happy for them...until my number was never called. I didn't make it. I was so devastated, so let down. Immediately, I hated myself, I hated my weight and I hated my friends. I wanted to be happy for them, but I was so sad and jealous. I think I said an empty congratulations and walked away. I'm sure I was an asshole for a day or two but we made up and eventually, I accepted it. I was too fat to be a cheerleader.
Tryouts came around again. Even if you made it before, it didn't mean you got picked again. I tried to forget the embarrassment of not making it before and give it my all, but it nagged that I will never be as good as these girls. My confidence had been shaken the previous year. 
The same process, the same held breath and butterflies in the stomach. The door opened, the coach called off numbers. All 12 girls made it again, plus a few extras. Then I heard it, my number! They called my number!! WHAT?! There was a ton of shrieking and a ton of hugging! I looked at the other girls crying, so sad, and I felt horrible because I was there! I knew how awful it felt!  When we came back in the gym, they gave us a run down of information and a bunch of congratulations. However, there was an alternate cheerleader this year who would take over if a cheerleader was injured or quit. I was the alternate. Again, I was so close, yet still, not quite there. I was a mix of upset and still so happy I am at least (kind of) on the squad. I finally got to be with my friends and I finally got my foot in the door, although I wanted everything through the door! I swore to myself I would be the best alternate cheerleader there was! 
During the year, one of the cheerleaders ended up quitting, so I took her spot and her uniform, which was about 3 sizes too small. The underarm holes dug into the fat under my arm. Every time I moved my arm, my stomach would almost show. The skirt was so tight, I could barely breath. I don't even know how it managed to zip up! I pretty much looked like a overstuffed sausage casing. We had to wear our uniforms every Friday for game day, and I wore it with honor and pride. After the games and our Eat N Park aftergame milkshake and fries, I would come home, need my mom to help take off the uniform, and look at all the red marks on my skin where the uniform cut into.
I have really muscular calves and compared to everyone else, they were tree trunks! I wore black pants every time I had to wear my uniform. Even in the warm weather, I had black windbreakers on. I hardly wore skirts and got to the point, where I was so embarrassed to take them off before games. Of course it wasn't enough to make me quit cheerleading, just enough to creep in and give me that extra insecurity on game days. 
I remained a cheerleader for the rest of Jr High and well into high school. My body got use to the red marks and the cut off air supply. The uniforms never fit me. I always had the biggest size which was always too small. I was a 14 living in a size 10.
Finally Sophomore year, we had the expense allowance to get new uniforms. My mom had a meeting with the coach and asked her that I be allowed to get a "special" size. It took a lot of back and forth and an agreement that we would buy the uniform and donate it back when I graduated.
I got measured and was looking forward to the new fitting uniform and the comfort of it. I, of course, would still wear black plants, but my body wouldn't be sore, I wouldn't be uncomfortable. The anticipation was killing us and finally they came in! We opened ours and I wanted to cry. My skirt was the only one that had an elastic band! At 15, it was the most embarrassing moment of my entire life. My shell was a bit different too! Because of the large size, the spacing was a bit off between the letters. I don't remember the reaction of the other girls and in my mind, they were so engrossed in their own new uniforms, they didn't notice the stubborn tears I tried to hold back.
We took my skirt and had it tailored so I didn't have to have the elastic band which helped. Unfortunately, there was no saving the shell. I had to accept it and hoped it wasn't as obvious as I felt it looked. I know it sounds silly, "Ashley, it's just a skirt," but to me, it meant so much more! As a chubby girl, it's not always common to be a cheerleader! 
Cheerleading, the friends I made, and the Friday night games are some of the best memories I have of high school. They are a bit muddied up because of the hidden struggles I put myself through just to be on the squad, but at least I never gave up! I was one proud fat cheerleader!  
Later, about a year after high school was over and cheerleading was a memory, I met a guy friend who knew one of my old squad members. He said he asked her about me and she said, "Yeah, I know her. She had to get a special size uniform because none of them would fit her because she's fat!" I don't know what this particular girl is doing with her life now, but her words use to haunt me for a few years after. Is this how I was remembered as a cheerleader, a friend? Then, I remembered all her flaws, the ones I could have called out. I wasn't going to let her beat me down. I wasn't going to let one girl from high school tarnish me and my memories.  While she took the time to remember that one particular story about me, I don't remember anything about her.
What I do remember, right now as I write this, is yes, I had to have a bigger uniform and yes, I was the biggest girl on the squad BUT I was good enough to be on the squad! I tried out, same as every other girl, and I made it fair and square. The mean girl and I were equal, maybe not in weight, but as a team, we were on the same side. She was skinnier than me, but no better! I didn't give up after the first obstacle nor did I give up after the second and third. I worked through the negative because as silly as it sounds now, I wanted more than anything, to be a cheerleader and I was.  No one should ever feel like they aren't good enough. Don't let anyone dictate your goals! Be you, and be proud because it's enough! It always will be! 
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I am NOT a Number on a Scale
One thing I am learning through this journey is my body and mind are not connected. I'm not saying losing weight is easy, because it's not! However, losing the weight is the easy part compared to our Jedi mind tricks.
When losing weight, there is a laid out plan of how to get healthy. The "simple" plan is eat clean, workout, wash and repeat. Before I started working out, my life revolved around food. I wondered what my next meal would be, sometimes even while I was still eating!
I barely had time to enjoy my breakfast because I was already drooling thinking about the Chinese food I was going to have for lunch. I barely made lunchtime, then thinking about BBQ ribs, I barely made dinner time. I ate like the spaghetti, chicken, cupcakes and steak were the last food I would ever have. There were never ever leftovers which meant a fresh start for the same unhealthy circle the next day.
For the first couple months as I started working out, I felt like there was this void missing where the food should have been. Nights were the worst because that's where I would snack and watch a movie. My cravings were rough and I allowed myself a little treat here and there to help, but it rarely did.
Now, 9 months later, my mind has accepted the missing food. I somehow managed to replace the need for food with a need to workout. Although, I feel like I just traded one obsession for the next.
With my workout program, we are suppose to weigh ourselves once a week on "STATurday." It started out simple and I looked forward to my weigh-in's to see all my progress and proof the hard work was worth it.
After my weight was under 200 pounds it was like this fitness monster unleashed in my mind. I feel like I have to weigh myself everyday. I wake up, weigh myself then get ready and go to work. As soon as I get home, I weigh myself again. If I didn't work, sometimes I would weigh myself in the afternoon as well. If the number was 2 pounds higher than what it was at 7A, I get frustrated and yell at myself to, "do better!" 
There's no road map or best laid plan for this obsession. Before I even get on the scale, I know I shouldn't step on it. I physically think to myself, "Don't do this, wait till Saturday." It's like I replaced the lack of willpower for food and traded it in for the scale.
The scale cannot define me and I am letting it be the compass of this journey.
I know I am doing everything right, eating healthy and working out, I'm doing what "they" told me to do yet I am still struggling with my mind. This is the part that no one prepared me for. This was the hard part because while I can physically change my body, the mind is not as simple.
Last night, I laid in bed so mad at myself because I ate a handful of M&M's and got on the scale. I was 3.2 pounds heavier than I was that morning and it was so frustrating. I couldn't sleep and my mind was racing with disappointment. I was mad at myself for my lack of willpower despite the fact that I worked out twice that day.
I just couldn't keep doing this to myself. My body, for the first time, may be healthy but my mind is still stuck in the same frame it was 9 months ago. I got out of bed and grabbed the scale. I just held it. Just like an ex-boyfriend, that's all wrong for me but still so hard to let go. I walked out in the living room and handed Charlie the scale. I made him promise to hide the scale until next Saturday, I won't even allow myself to do the normal Saturday tomorrow because it's just too soon and the circle would start all over. I made him promise no matter how many times I ask for the scale, do not give it to me until the 28th.
This morning was the first morning I didn't weigh myself. I am really struggling not knowing where I stand for the day but at the same time, I already feel less pressure on myself. I'm a little nicer to my body tonight because I don't have anything to compare and harbor on.
I can't base these last few months on a number on a scale. It's measured in the way my clothes fit and for once, not having to wear plus size. It's the girl in the pictures whose face looks slimmer. It's flexing in the mirror and seeing the definition of a muscle. it is being off pills for the first time in years. It's a sweaty shirt because I just worked out. What it's not: is 3 pounds heavier, it is not a handful of M&M's and it is not the negative thoughts that I allow myself to have. 
Here is my STATurday picture without a scale! I don't need the scale. The proof is in the picture and in my health. It is not a number, it's a proud smile.
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Pop Quiz, Hot Shot! (That's from the movie Speed)
I know in my last blog I mentioned that I had to find the balance between mind, body and soul.
Just like anybody, I have those great days where I can see how far I've come. Then there are days where I let those little insecurities creep in and kind of stir things up. They just come uninvited to my feel good party, drink all my beer, then throw up on my happy thoughts.  Those little buzz kill bitches.
I can stand on a scale and see the numbers (slowly) lower. I can feel my jeans become looser and my sweaters a little baggier but when I look in the mirror, I don't feel like I look any different then I did on Day 1.  I know it's not true but we are own worst critics.  There are enough daily factors that try to sabotage our hard work, why should our own mind be one of them?!
Instead of writing some long blog about how I ate chocolate on Valentine's Day (oh Devil!) I am reaching out to all those who read my blog and all this week, (7 Days.. Like from the movie The Ring- I will come out of the mirror if you don't do it.)  Wait, where was I? I was freaking myself out because we have well water and I was thinking of some ghost girl climbing out of it...
Every day this week, I want you to spare me 2 minutes, a commercial break, and I want you to look in the mirror and name 3 things you love about yourself, your body and your mind.  It can't be something materialistic like a new pair of boots or new jeans. It has to come from within and be 100% sincere.
It's time to start loving ourselves! So applaud and love your finest qualities, embrace your quirks, and be fearless.
Here are my 3 things today:
1. I love my big brown eyes!
2. I love my sense of humor.
3. I love that I am emotional and cry in every movie, TV show, commercial, and song.
Your turn! I would love to hear your first 3, but if you prefer to keep it personal, I completely understand!
So get out there and keep that bus above 50 mph, get the bomb off the bus and let's love ourselves a little more. Keanu Reeves thinks we're awesome and what he says, goes!
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The Madien Voyage
So here it is, my maiden voyage, my very first official blog. I feel like I should have a bottle of champagne to toast while I write. However, this is a blog about my fitness journey and champagne is high in sugar and low in smart choices… Fuck it… Cheers!
I could start my story of how I was always big, even as a child, but the cold hard truth was, I was skinny once and that was the day I was born.  I come from a very close family and get togethers always consisted of going out to grandma’s for family dinners.  Eating was a fun social gathering where we could all let loose, laugh and ruin some white shirts with spaghetti sauce stains! I don’t remember at what point in my life when food became a closer relationship then my family. If there was one meatball left, I wanted it. If there was one piece of bread left, it was mine with extra butter and if we were splitting food, I wanted the bigger half.  Looking back, being young and wanting to eat, I didn’t know any better. I didn’t know a 9 year old shouldn’t be begging for a Hungry Man fried chicken TV dinner nor did I know that when my dad took us to Giant Eagle and the deli lady had a hoagie waiting for me that it wasn’t cute when they giggled and handed  it into my chubby reaching arms.
Thus began my love affair of food. I remember on Easter we would get a basket of goodies, chocolates, jelly beans and marshmallow peeps. My mouth drooled and I don’t think my basket even lasted a week. My sister on the other hand, she would eat a small piece then put the rest in the freezer. Where the fuck was that self control on me?! One night, I wanted chocolate and remembered there was a big bunny with two big chocolate ears that need bit off just sitting cold in the freezer! One bite, no one will notice.  I pretty much gnawed on the back parts and underneath, thinking I was some selfish chocolate ninja. The time came where my sister found it and cried. My mom accused me but of course, “It wasn’t me!”  I remember always opening the fridge after dinner or lunch and taking a little bite each time thinking I was being so secretive. No one could tell a scoop of mashed potatoes was missing, nor 5 pieces of cheese were suddenly gone. I was in utter ignorant bliss thinking I fooled the system. I just found comfort in food, a friend that was always there for me.
I was always the biggest of my friends but we seemed to laugh through the difference in size.  Growing up as a plus size girl, there weren’t the kind of stores there are now. Lane Bryant had frumpy old lady clothes. There was no Torrid, nor did Forever 21 or Deb have a plus size line at this time. I had to buy the biggest size possible in the department store and sometimes, even that didn’t fit. I was 12. Those times were hurt and I hated clothes shopping. I was the only girl in my class who had to wear a girdle to school dance! I bet my skinny friends never heard, “Black is slimming!”
I never was made fun of a lot, but when there were fights with friends, it seemed to be the easiest “go-to” insult. Like, “You like the boy I like, you jerk!” which would always be answered with, “Well, you’re fat.” I wish I had the confidence I do now because I would look that girl square in the face and really let her have it, “Well you are skinny, have no boobs and your mom is a whore!”  When we were in groups and there were boys around, they would tease me to be cool. I just was the target, I was the easiest to knock down so they could build themselves up. One excruciating time in elementary school I was sitting at our fold up Ling tables with attached seats. I remember one of my girlfriends pointing under the table to another girl. I heard her say, "her butt takes up two seats." It was humiliating and true but it hurt that friends had to be the ones to point it out. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, it was enough to cry me to sleep and wish I was skinny. Then I would wake up in the morning and have 3 bowls of Coco Pebbles.
I tried to live a normal life and hide the fat behind the sarcasm and humor. I learned early and I learned quick that if you make fun of yourself before anyone else did, it doesn’t sting quite as bad. In junior high and high school, I wanted a boyfriend. I thought that if I could find someone to love me, then I would learn to love myself. Of course now, I know it doesn’t work that way and no guy would ever be able to love me since I didn’t love myself. I remember having a crush on a boy and he said he would date me but we couldn’t tell anyone. I instantly agreed, it was better than nothing, right? He liked me but was ashamed of me. I didn’t know how hurtful and demeaning that was until I met a nice guy who didn’t care about body image or dating the “fat girl.” My mom thought I was a bit more promiscuous then I actually was. Even if I was easy, I was still fat and boys didn’t want that, no matter how low hanging the fruit was. I just wanted someone,  I wanted what my friends had. I wanted first dates, first loves and first kisses. I met my first boyfriend who didn’t seem to mind, but in the end, both our young insecurities broke us up.  His friends all had skinny, beautiful gold medal girlfriends. He had the bronze medal.
Before this gets too long and boring.. Let’s jump ahead to where I’m even going with this almost sadder than Beth dying on the Walking Dead story.
In my late 20’s, through making amazing friends in college, finishing my degree, traveling the globe and smiling more, I learned to be okay with myself. I wouldn’t say love, I wouldn’t even say like. It was more, “Eh, babe, this is as good as it gets, live with it.” So I did.  
I spent turning 30 in Paris with one of my good friends. I embraced life as an adult and will accept whatever life had to offer me! I didn’t realize life can sometimes be an asshole!
I met Charlie who I instantly knew was different. Our late night talks, our dates, were just too easy. Had I finally found someone who loved me, all of me, all the rolls and dimples? Insecurities played a huge part early on in our relationship and if he wasn’t such a patient man, I probably would have sabotaged us before it even blossomed into something. I doubted who would want to be with someone like ME? Like this?!  Yet, the longer we dated, the more at ease I got and eventually, once again, I was okay. (Okay is a horrible word, probably worse than the word Fuck)
Getting to the point now of the blog.. God, are you even still reading this?!
So here it was, happy in a relationship, a great job that let me travel, living on my own and just enjoying things. Charlie was having a back surgery and I wanted to be there to support him and care for him. I had a cold so I went to a Med Express to get some quick pills so I could kick the cold faster. I didn’t want him to get sick and not have the surgery. I went on my lunch break which should have been plenty of time. The nurse came in, took my blood pressure, smiled and walked out. I sat there for another 5 minutes, waiting, wondering what the heck was going on. Talk about horrible service! Another woman came in, grabbed the monitor and immediately took my blood pressure again. She looked at me and I quote, “Good God girl, how are you not having a stroke right now?!” Now, I have a journalism degree, so BP stats are lost on me but even I knew, looking at the number is was high. My blood pressure was 201/116 or something ridiculous like that! The doctor said she would absolutely not help me and I needed to go the Emergency Room right then and there. I was beginning to think this lady got her degree at Walmart or Online because I felt fine, have felt fine and will continue to feel fine. I told her thanks but I needed to get back to work. She threatened me and said that if I don’t willingly go to the ER, she would have to call an ambulance. Well played, well played!
I went to the hospital (willingly!) where they were just as bad and had me sit there for over an hour, in a gown. Like you’re just checking my BP, why do I have to wear a paper doll dress? They gave me a low dose pill and followed up with my doctor. I had an appointment within 2 days.
It has been 4 years since I went to a doctor. I know it was 4 years because the doctor yelled at me and kept saying, “4 years?! 4 years?!” Like at least it wasn’t 5 years, dude!  At the doctors, my BP was still high and it scared me because I saw the concern and fear in my doctors eye. We also checked my insulin and A1C levels, all came back high. Not only did I have high blood pressure, I was also now, a diabetic. I was only 30, those are “old” people concerns, right?! From that point on, I was on 6 different medications. I laughed because my grandma and I were taking the same pills, but I had several more on her.  I understand now why high blood pressure is a silent killer.  I might not have known about it until it was too late. I never went to the doctors (obviously) and only went to Med Express when I had to, which took a lot!
I tried to lose weight but I got cocky because the pills were keeping me healthy. They kept my BP low, they kept my sugar in line.. so, I  was okay, right? Then, I went in for a follow up and the doctor laid it on hard. If I continued to eat without exercise, and not work towards a lower BP or sugar level, I would die in my 50’s!
The scare tactic worked and I chose life. At first, I didn’t set a weight loss goal. I just wanted off the medication, all medication and whatever weight that had to be, so be it!
I lost a few pounds but it was so hard. I was so mad that I had to give up the foods I loved. I wanted cake, I wanted ice cream and I wanted pasta! I went to Weight Watchers and loved it when I lost but hated their silent judgment when I gained. I hated them for making me step on a scale, I hated them for making me eat their stupid oatmeal instead of Lucky Charms and I was just angry. I know I was angry at myself, but lashing out at everyone trying to help.
Eventually, I moved to Ohio with Charlie and found a new doctor who specializes in diabetes. We talked and I told him my goals and of course he supported me but I don’t think he realized how dedicated I instantly became when I moved.
I started using Beach Body which is home DVD’s but so much more. I found a coach who just happened to be my sorority sister. She wasn’t going to let me down and I would be so embarrassed if I let her down. So, I went out and bought all these cute workout clothes and don’t think vanity is not a motivator! I started with T25 with the trainer Shaun T. It was 25 minutes a day but it was hard! I could barely make it through a workout with almost throwing up. I followed the modifier but even that got me. I didn’t give up and followed the schedule. Eventually, my clothes started fitting better and I found a lot of the cravings for sweets lessening.  I didn’t want to almost kill myself working out only to die in the kitchen.
I lost about 15 pounds, then 15 turned into 25. I went to my 3 month appointment with my doctor and my BP and sugar levels were down. He cut my pill dosage in half! So close, I couldn’t give up now! So, I started another workout video and worked out 25 minutes in the morning and 30 in the evening.
Now, 3 years after this painful journey, I am 100% medication free! I am no longer a diabetic and have never felt better in my life. I accepted the bad feeling as normal because it’s all I knew.
I started at 248 pounds and a size 20!  I couldn’t believe I even got that bad. How I even got that big! Now, 9 months later, after I started Beach Body, I am at 193 and a loose size 14! (Come on 12’s, fit you bitches!)
I am closer to my goal weight then I was 9 months ago, and I have bad days but I still workout and I still carry on. If I get frustrated, I try to remember how I felt in the moment being off the medication!
So, this blog is my story, my journey. I’m a normal girl who just wants to live and be healthy and eventually wear leggings! If I can help one person by this blog then it was worth it. I have bad days where I cheat more than I should, but I jump back on and try not to be too hard on myself.
There were times where I cried because I was so sore, I was miserable and I just spent $250 on fresh fruits, veggies and seafood. I wouldn’t change it, any of it! I need the bad to appreciate the good! I need the okay to be awesome!
I workout every day except on Sundays because those are my rest days but I also listen to my body. If I have to miss a workout or I am sore, then that’s okay too! I keep myself motivated because I always have a goal. Instead of one big picture that seems so hard to reach, I give myself small goals. This way, when I hit it, I always have something else to strive for!
I even ran/walk my first 5K and have done 3 since! I may not be the fastest and I may not be able to run the entire 3 miles, but you know what, I finished and I didn’t finish last! My big goal is to do the Disney Princess Half Marathon in Feb 2016. I am going to train and try the best I can to be prepared. If 3 years ago someone asked me to run a 5K, I would have thrown my bag of chips at them!
I still have quite a bit to go and this journey really doesn’t have an ending. Once I lose the weight, I still have to maintain it. I still have to get better at eating and my relationship with food. The other day, I worked out then ate a sleeve of girl scout cookies. It’s those binges that I still find myself doing once in awhile. So, I am still struggling to find the balance between mind, soul and body.
This is my blog, as open and truthful as I can be. There are going to be good times, motivational quotes or pictures, there will be funny “fat girl” problems I encounter, and you bet there will be days where I feel like giving up, where the guilt/frustration is tearing me apart but embarrassing and personal as it may be, I want to share it. I want it right in the hearts and faces of all my readers! I’m not sugar coating (Yum!) anything!
Thanks for reading.. Dear God, did you really just finish?!
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