Her Twitter handle is @MostBoringGirl, but she is anything but.
She is wry, incredibly intelligent, doesn't take B.S., and she has this gorgeous face with enviable cheekbones that make her a dead ringer for Meryl Streep's daughter.
She also, like so many of us, has struggled with weight issues like health-induced weight gain and the general metabolism slow-down that comes after age 30. Now, as one of my hardest-working personal training clients, she is on a mission to overcome.
No matter how hard I push her, she keeps at it. She is a Badass, through and through.
She is on, as she calls it, her "Road back to Retrofabulous." Today, she shares with amazing honesty her recently crafted mission statement. I told her to stick it on her fridge, keep it in her purse, whatever it takes to stay focused.
So read on, and know that whatever your fitness struggles, you are never the only one who wants to throw that scale out the window or curse yourself for falling to your knees for those last five pushups. The Badass Journey is not easy. So we take it together, right here. If you have a mission statement you want to share, please do! ([email protected]) Now read on...
Retrofabulous Mission Statement
Not so long ago in a galaxy not too terribly far away, I never had to worry about my weight. Ever. At 5’7” and 120 lbs, I flew by the seat of my size 8 Abercrombie bootleg pants. I lived on regular coke, pizza, pasta, chocolate, and Starbucks. I didn’t work out at all because there was no need. I had all the energy in the world and a million things to do. I had places to go and people to see. Why bother with the gym? I’d been the exact same size and shape since the 10th grade.
Then I turned 22. Suddenly, calories had consequences.
I put on 20 lbs in my first two years of law school. When I discovered how easy it was to order diet pills on the Internet, I promptly disposed of my excess baggage. When these purchases became illegal, I was relieved to be thin. I swore I’d never let myself get that way again. And I didn’t, for a couple of years. Yoga, pilates, Diet Coke and cardio were all I needed.
It all went out the window when I took a job as a fundraiser on a statewide political campaign. I was traveling all over FL with crazy hours and horrible food and didn’t think a thing of it until the day when my jeans didn’t fit anymore. My time was not my own, so I put off taking care of myself until after Election Day. My candidate won, I moved to Tallahassee, I joined a gym, and those 20lbs were gone before I knew it.
Then I got sick. I had a sinus infection that would not quit for months. I went on steroids. There was a risk of weight gain, they said, but that it would “melt off” soon afterward. I was constantly ravenous and exhausted. When I got on the scale 21 days later, I’d gained 21 lbs. Those pounds were so comfortable where they were, they decided to stay. I had sinus surgery a few months later, but still wasn’t feeling better. I’d get diet pills every time I had a bridesmaid dress to wear or some event where I needed to look good, but it got to the point where I was fluctuating by 20 lbs every few months.
It was a vicious cycle.
I got desperate. I despised the way I looked. I went on the most insane diet of my lifetime- the HCG diet. I ate 500 calories of protein and injected myself with a pregnancy hormone every day. I lost 9 pounds the first week. I was thrilled.
I went on a blind date that changed my life. As my new relationship developed, I knew I couldn’t maintain the HCG diet. I was afraid he’d break up with me if he knew what I was doing, so I stopped dieting. I went on dates. I drank the wine. I ate the dessert. I loved every minute of it.
I gained back the weight. Again.
I had a second round of sinus surgery and a bunch of new meds. I had a nasty allergic reaction to a heartburn drug. Then there were more steroids, which brought on even more weight gain. The scale informed me that I had gained 40 lbs. I couldn’t believe how fat I was. I wanted to throw up and die. And then throw up some more.
My boyfriend, a physician, was a total champ. He said he loved me regardless of my weight and that he would do whatever it took to help me reach my goals. The condition: no diet pills, no HCG, and absolutely no HGH. He gave me a copy of “Protein Power” and we started riding bikes together. I got a personal trainer, who has truly been a blessing, even with my orthopedic injuries in one arm.
I stopped looking at depressing photos of myself. I changed my Facebook and Twitter profile photos to a cartoon portrait. I’m not changing them until I look good again.
I started getting up early and going to the gym. I found a dance studio with Zumba and pilates classes right after work. I am fighting, pound by pound.
The goal is to reclaim my lost looks by March 17, 2012. I’ll celebrate my maternal bloodline and my personal achievement. It’ll be Retrofabulous. So will I.
Coming tomorrow: The Full Tabata (as opposed to the Full Monty)...