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Note from 10/21/2013:  I had posted this blog for a few hours the day that I wrote it.  I wanted to vent.  I then changed it to private.  Now that my marriage has ended and I just don’t give a shit, I’m setting it to public.  I think it’s important for other women (or men, I suppose) who might be feeling the same thing to have some reassurance that they aren’t alone.  You can change your situation.  Don’t make excuses for why it’s okay to be treated in a way you don’t want to be treated.  YOU DESERVE HAPPINESS.

January 29, 2013

I’m pissed.  I’m lacking in eloquence right now to describe it any other way.  I’m pissed pissed PISSED PISSED!  You can tell I mean it because I’m up after 11pm when I’m suppose to get up at 4am for the gym.  And fuck, am I going to bust my ass after all of the chocolate I just consumed.  Like 500 calories worth of chocolate and a banana because I’m pissed.  If I could go to the gym, I would, which would be far better than drowning my anger in food like my former fat self.

I shouldn’t have to be this angry.  I’ve worked very hard on myself to not be so angry when my expectations aren’t met.  This is part of how I got so fat in the first place.

Let’s back up because I feel like writing.  I need to vent.

I’ve never been thin.  I was always a big, tall girl.  I played sports, but wasn’t an athlete.  I didn’t work out, but I had books and yarn… what else do you need?

I had a high school sweetheart who was my best friend.  I left college to come home to him.  Yes, I was that girl.  I left what I had worked so hard in high school to achieve for a boy.  The one I was going to be with forever.  We moved into a rental house which soon after went up for sale and I pushed him to buy it.  We weren’t financially stable, I worked at Dairy Queen, we barely had credit.  Enter shady mortgage broker.

We got the loan, signed on the house and broke up less than a month later.  We had been together 5 years, I was 19 and hit a breaking point.  I was suffocating.  I felt like I was his only person.  I couldn’t handle the pressure of being everything to him.

Then came my future husband.  He was the exact opposite of my ex.  I try not to dwell on what we were to each other because I took it for granted and ruined everything.  Financially, things took a shit.  I lost my fiancée best friend in one fleeting decision.  It happened and I can’t fix it, no matter the guilt that ate eats at me.

My husband has a million friends and family members he would drop anything in a blink of an eye to help.  A trait I once found endearing, but that’s for later.

We were crazy for each other back then, all the time.  We got into explosive fights sometimes.  Two of my high school friends moved in to help me with the outrageous mortgage.  We alienated them.  I was an idiot.  I didn’t see what was happening.  Then we decided to start trying for a baby.  WHY?!  I have no idea. It seemed like the thing to do in Hicktown, USA.  Before we found out I was pregnant, we set a date for our wedding.  On Mother’s Day, I was officially pregnant.  By our wedding day two months later, I didn’t want to get married anymore.  Had I not been pregnant, I wouldn’t have.

Lots of things happened after.  He had many jobs, longest one a year, most a few months.  We lived with my mom while I was pregnant and for a while after the birth.  I was miserable there.  I was depressed after the baby.  After he turned a year old, I wanted a divorce.  I bought a book on DIY divorces and started filling out the papers.  I was done.  I was tired of being neglected.

Then… I was pregnant again   I didn’t want to do it alone.  I didn’t want to be another single mother with two kids and divorced.  There are so many, I just didn’t want that to be me too.  It felt like failure.   This is what I chose, now I had to deal.

After a second child, I was extremely depressed.  I got fatter in addition to not losing any baby weight.  My husband would go off to the bar or a friend’s and be gone for hours.  Once, he never came home at all until morning and didn’t seem to understand why that was a problem.

I would just stay at home and cry and take care of babies.  I would get so angry, upset, hysterical.  I’d call my mom randomly to come over.  She’s come relieve me and I’d lie in my room and do nothing or cry some more.  She encouraged me to tell a doctor, but that felt like more defeat to me and I didn’t want medication.  I wanted a solution instead.

Things got better for a while.  Then my husband was drunk and punched a guy at my high school reunion.  I was embarrassed, mortified.  We paid for a lawyer and went to court, he went to jail, we still pay restitution.  I stuck by him.

And he cheated on me.  I don’t know to what extent.  I know he kissed one skank.  I have never so much as flirted with another man.  I still feel betrayed.  I still don’t trust.  It’s still on my mind with every text or phone call.  Every time he comes home late from work.  I hate it.  I can’t imagine the trust ever being completely repaired.  Can you have a relationship that lasts against those odds?

I lost interest in sex probably after my second child.  I only ever do it to keep my husband “happy,” but that obviously wasn’t working for me.  I don’t feel loved (unless he wants something), I don’t feel appreciated (unless he wants something), I don’t feel respected (unless he wants something).  In the beginning, he acted so in love with me that I thought I would NEVER have to worry about cheating.

The breaking point for my weight was after my mom’s wedding in May of 2011.  I saw a horrible picture of myself at 240 pounds.  I couldn’t believe it was me.  I remember getting dressed that day and being uncomfortably in my body and all the clothes I tried.  I looked grotesque.  I hated myself.  I wasn’t going to wait anymore for happiness to find me and I didn’t want to wallow in my despair.  I decided I couldn’t be at home waiting around anymore.

I started slowing doing active things like Zumba, the gym sometimes and at home some p90x and Insanity.  Finally, I started running and eventually wound up at a wellness center where I swim, bike and run.  I do yoga classes and spinning… I’m taking swim lessons.

I ENJOY what I’m doing for me now.

And now I get attitude about it.

I do want to say, my husband is not a horrible man.  He is generally a good man to his friends and family and his kids.  I feel that I never come first.  If a buddy calls him and needs help, he runs right out to do it.

The problem is that I NEED someone willing to put me first.  I’m not selfish enough to think that it’s necessary all the time.

But when I ask for the light switch in the bedroom to be fixed, I expect it to be done in less than a month.  Isn’t that reasonable?  Instead, I get attitude like, “you didn’t remind me.”  All of the blame is always pushed onto me.  He can’t accept responsibility for anything.

“If you didn’t freak out about my driving, then I wouldn’t drive as bad.”

FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU.  GAAAAAAH!  This type of thing over and over.  I can’t handle it, I’m about to explode.

Yes, it’s my decision to workout, but I also do it early in the morning so it won’t interrupt dinner time.  I need to be home in the evening to cook and take care of the kids.  So my day generally goes, wake up between 4-5, get to the gym.  Showered and out of the gym by 7:30.  Work from 8-5.  Then home to kids screaming they are hungry the minute I walk in the door.  Cook dinner, something that hopefully everyone will eat since I’m eating paleo and my youngest is dairy-free and my husband isn’t open to trying anything new.  Then dishes, laundry, baths, bedtime and finally a little time to sit and knit or read or do nothing.

Last night, I’m doing dishes before bed and instead of offering to help so I can go to bed too, he puts away dinner and starts asking me where specific dishes are while I’m trying to wash things.  I get annoyed because he doesn’t offer to help me and he storms off to bed leaving half the food in the pan.

This is just an example of many many things that drive me batty.  Lie on the couch, all night and do nothing, don’t ever offer to help me with anything, I ask for help which is replied with procrastination and then anger because I didn’t “remind” him.


Oh and now I get attitude because I “spend half the day at the gym” which I don’t.  I go in the mornings on the weekend and maybe stop at the store to pick up something and I’m home by noon.  In the meantime, he’d normally be doing nothing but lying around in pajamas.  Now I want to spend all day at the gym, because I don’t want to be home anymore.

When I get upset with my situation, I think of how much worse it could be and that I should appreciate that I at least have this much.  But that makes it feel more maddening because all I want is to be respected and appreciated.  Is that really too much?

I’m not going to proofread this because I don’t want to read it over and get more angry.  I wanted to get it out, so there you go.  Spewed everywhere.  If you make it through this whole mess of a post, let me know.  You deserve a reward.

P.S.  I would like to add, he is sometimes supportive.  He was really proud of me for doing the Muck Ruck.  I’m just getting whip lash from the indecisiveness.  I know he didn’t ask for me to change.  I’m different than I was.  I just don’t know how to deal.


February 5k

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Saturday was my 5k for the month of February.  If you didn’t already know, I’m doing one community 5k a month for all of 2013 in addition to my obstacle courses and triathlons.

In January, my friend from high school and soccer teammate, Crystal, asked when my next race was, thinking I would say sometime in the spring.  When I said it was in January, she was like, okay, I’m in!  After that race, she said she wanted to join me for the next, so now, I think it might be our thing. 🙂

My husband had the day off so he came with us, camera in tow.

Crystal and I… I am a giant. 🙂

We were nervous about having to run on slush or packed snow.  Road conditions varied a lot on our drive to the run, so we didn’t know what to except.  Luckily, the course was completely clear and salted.  Much appreciated by myself, as I have a huge fear of slipping and falling on my face on ice.

I start near the center of the pack and stayed behind Crystal as I know she’s faster.
I was admiring my bum in this photo last night. Oh yes.
And a second later…

There was a gentle snow fall the whole race, which was very pretty.  We lucked out and it wasn’t windy.  The occasional breeze blew snow from the trees and houses, but it was a pleasant, flat course and fairly nice day despite being about 20°.  Crystal and I both felt like our lungs were icing over.

Crystal coming in for the finish. (I don’t know if she wanted to be on my blog, but that’s the danger of doing an activity with me and allowing photographs.)
After the last turn…
… and an indoor finish.
Doing my final sprint. My general racing strategy is to end up next to people about my speed for most of the race and then sprint ahead of them at the very end. I do this EVERY race. Makes me feel fast, for a second at least.
2 seconds from the finish line.

I ended with my personal best time of 33:35.  I’m really happy with that given that it was the coldest temperature in which I’ve ever ran.  This was my 7th 5k since August.  My slowest time was 37:00.  I’m just going to keep setting small goals.  Next month, I’d like to be under 33 minutes.  I would like to be solidly under 30 minutes by the end of 2013.  That would be amazing.

After the run, I posted this picture on my Facebook.

Go to my Facebook link and share the love!

This is the most comfortable and at ease I have ever felt in my own body.  I love it.  I felt that I needed to share that revelation.  I still have a lot of work to do, but I’m not focusing on how much I weigh anymore.  The number doesn’t matter.  I’m gaining muscle, shedding inches, dropping pant sizes… I thought that I had to get to a certain number before I finally felt happy with myself.  Once I got there, I figured I would stop caring as long as I was getting fit and staying healthy.

I may still weigh 195, instead of 165, but I’m happy (and it’s WAY better than 240).  I know that it is attainable now and I’ll get there.  Slow and steady.

Dirty Dozen & Drugs

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The day after the Alumni Soccer Game, I ran in my third and final mud run of the year.

Scott decided he wanted to do this one too.  He told his friend, AJ, and he thought it sounded cool, so he ran it as well.  His girlfriend, Kheri, came along and we all had a great time together.  In fact, they had such a good time, they decided to run and camp with us at the Xtreme Muck Ruck!  That will be another story though.

The week leading up to the race, we had 70 degree weather… on race day, we topped out at probably 45?   Maybe less.  And luckily enough, the first obstacle was a slide into a water hole.  The water was in the 30s!  So flippin’ cold.

This would have been lovely… not in October.

I only have a few pictures of me during the race, but I also found some pictures of the different obstacles from the Barry County United Way Facebook  Page.

I’m near the middle of the picture with the pink gloves. Scott and AJ are to the left.
I should have leaned back more. In the heat of the moment, I forgot and had to do a little scooting near the bottom.
And from here on out, I was numb.  Last picture of me during the race.
Small obstacle, jumping boxes and hay bales.
Great mud hole.
They called this a rooftop.
Good one of Scott dodging the zombies. We had caution strips tied to us. Unfortunately, I lost mine. Should have plowed the little bugger who was pushing me off course.
Over a mud pit.
Crawling under tires and running through them.
Through some “tunnels.”
Over a dirt pile, over a gate and not pictured was crawling under more orange fencing then over another gate.
Last obstacle, very mucky mud pit and ropes to pull out of it.

After hitting the water, I was so numb, I could barely run/move.  My only complaint was that it was far too cold for that kind of water obstacle in the beginning of the race at the end of October.  Otherwise, we had all had a blast.

After the race, they provided some lunch for free:  hot dogs, chips, coffee, hot chocolate, pop.

Here we are before and after the race.

After the race, I was talking to Kheri about why I like to race.  I don’t run races to win.  I don’t think I will ever be the fastest or best athlete.  That is completely okay with me.  I sign up for races to keep me active, pushing toward my goals and because of the “high” I get afterward.

When I finish a mud run or a race, I feel like I’m on this awesome high the rest of the day.  Now, I have never tried drugs, so I really can’t compare, but I think the high I get from racing is better than any drug could ever be.  I have a small obsession with watching Intervention and I always feel so sad for how pathetic these people act while on drugs and how much they hurt their families and friends in the process.

Why do drugs when you can race?  I feel invincible.

Bullies & Bliss

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Note:  The following is a post from my old blog that I thought pertinent to share.  I’ll post why following the old post.

Post published 7/5/11 on my old blog:

I really want to share some information, but first I have a story as to why I am sharing it.

Many may know, I have set certain goals for weight loss and to run a half marathon in September [note from 10/3/12: I missed that goal, not perfect!].  I’ve been feeling really good about my body image lately.  Am I satisfied?  NO.  Do I feel much better about myself?  YES.  My clothes are looser, I have seen the pounds come off and the inches, and just getting out and being more active is great for my self-esteem.  I feel like, I don’t look like I want to, but screw you if you think I don’t look good, because I know that I’m working on it and getting closer every day to where I want to be, so I FEEL like a million freaking bucks.

On Sunday, I let someone take that feeling away from me.

We were having kind of an impromptu 4th of July/housewarming celebration.  I cooked Saturday and got up early to work out Sunday, came home and cooked some more.  Later during dinner, the shorts I was wearing were falling down because I’ve slimmed down a bit and people noticed they were baggier so I felt really good.

After dinner and a lot of people left, we were hanging around until it was time for fireworks.  I decided to try on a pair of jeans I’ve been saving from high school that are one size smaller than I currently wear.  They were a little snug, but I felt like after wearing them for a few minutes and sitting down, they loosened up a tad and I was more comfortable.  I was so excited!

We went to the fireworks and while waiting a bunch of us were sitting in the back of a friend’s truck.  I’m acquainted with him through Scott and we have talked and joked before.  I don’t know if he was trying to be mean or not, he’s a little younger than I and may having been showboating for the teenage girls hanging around, but he said a couple of comments about my size.

The one I distinctly remember was, “I think we may be exceeding the weight limit for my truck… maybe if Addie wasn’t in it!” 

Now, I have always been a bigger girl.  I will NEVER be a size 2.  I’m cool with that.  I literally don’t think my bone structure would even allow for me to be that small.  I remember comments like this from high school, middle school, elementary school.  Basically, I felt all of that flooding back to me.  I just walked away and went to sit by Scott.  He knew something was wrong, but that’s a separate story.  I didn’t want to make a big deal of it.

I was so close to curling up in a ball and crying.  I felt awful and in that moment, I didn’t want to be there anymore.  Whether it was meant to hurt me or not, when you are literally the heaviest person and someone targets you, it doesn’t feel funny.  If you say it to the twiggy little girl who weighs 100 pounds soaking wet, then it might be funny, because obviously she isn’t weighing it down?  Get my point?

Anyway, this is why I am going to reveal my weight, my measurements and my pant size.  I don’t want to be held back by these stupid numbers anymore.  I wanted to wait until the end to reveal everything, so that people wouldn’t know these numbers while I was still living them.  I wanted to be small and say, “See where I came from!”  I don’t care anymore!  I will not let these numbers or anyone hold me back.

I will not allow anyone to make me feel awful about myself again.

So here are the numbers…

Note: 10/4/12

Recently in the news, a reporter replied to an e-mail sent to her by someone she’s never met who called her an unfit role model due to her obesity.

Personally, I enjoyed her reply and kudos to her TV station for allowing her to use airtime to make her retort.  You can see the video below if you haven’t seen it on national news.

This reporter’s experience brought up my memories from last summer.  How weak I felt, letting someone take away my power.  Afterward, I refused to let anyone have that kind of control over me and I have held to that promise since that day.

It’s funny how that moment really defined a lot of my weight-loss journey for months, but looking back, I couldn’t even remember exactly what was said.

Let a bully motivate you, but don’t let it control who you are.  I am comfortable in my body now, even though I’m still not where I want to ultimately be.  I’ve worked hard to get this far.  I can be proud because no one handed this to me.

It’s been a month since I measured and I now weigh 205, but here is how I’ve changed since the summer of 2011.

Comfortable bliss.

Funk & Fitocracy

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The last week has been tough for me.  I’m really lacking in energy and motivation.  How do I battle this?

I have a few things that work for me.

  • Workout Buddy:  A very dear friend who lives just down the street is my running partner.  We text each other every night and decide on what time to run in the morning.  Occasionally, we run in the evening when morning doesn’t work.  Knowing that I have to meet her gives me the push to get out of bed at 4am.

I ask myself… Did you enjoy looking and feeling that way?  Do you look good naked?  Well, put the damn shoes on and get out the door then!

  • Fitocracy:  This is my new motivator.  It’s a site that allows you to track your workouts and earn points (for what, I don’t really know, bragging rights?  I don’t care I just want more!).  There are support groups for specific things like Couch-to-5K (c25K), weight lifting, cycling, swimming.  You can give people props for their accomplishments.  It’s very user friendly and fun to use.

If you are interested in joining, it’s free (there is an upgrade available, but I haven’t looked into it much) and currently has an iPhone app.  They recently announced they are working on an Android app, so I’m anxiously awaiting that release.

Click to Join Fitocracy.

Another blogger that I thoroughly enjoy is lauraMUSTloseweight.

Could I please look like that someday!  She’s single and younger than me, so honestly I think it’s a little easier for her to do what she does. Not that she doesn’t KILL it when she works out, but as a mother of two young boys and wife to basically a man who should be considered a teenager, it’s really really tough sometimes to please everyone and myself.  I follow her website, Facebook, Instagram and Youtube.  Basically, I think she rocks.

And I’ll leave you with this, because I love this episode of “How I Met Your Mother”…