The Beginning of the New Me - Part 2

After I finished the Baltimore Women's Classic 5K, it was time to face another issue. My feet. They were killing me. The second I stood on them, I felt a stabbing pain in my heels. I could barely walk. I visited a podiatrist and he said I had something called "plantar fasciitis." PubMed Health describes it as an "inflammation of the thick tissue on the bottom of the foot. This tissue is called the plantar fascia. It connects the heel bone to the toes and creates the arch of the foot." Either way...I HURT. The cause? Me trying to run. Basically, he told me in a nice way, I was too fat for my feet to be able to run. I had given myself plantar fasciitis and the only way to fix it was to stop trying to run, do certain stretches, wear only tennis shoes, and ice my heels. He left out "and lose some weight, fatty" but I knew that was part of the equation. How in the world was I suppose to lose weight if I couldn't exercise?? I HAD to lose weight. Plus I was going on a cruise in November, and I had to at least be mobile!

I tried on my own, but the scale wouldn't budge. I decided I couldn't do it on my own anymore, so I did some research on weight loss programs. I landed on Weight Watchers because they were the only ones that didn't involve buying pre-packaged food. I knew, in order for me to lose and keep the weight off, I had to do it without special foods and learn how to lose weight by being able to make my own food. I walked into Weight Watchers on August 28th, 2010, and stayed for the meeting. It was like every comedy sketch I had seen - all these people talked about was food. I wanted to laugh! But I was inspired by the people there who were openly sharing their struggles. I decided to give myself three months. I didn't even tell my parents until about the third week. For so long I had talked about losing weight, it was time for me to shut up and just do it. So I did it. Right after I got myself a final farewell Five Guys Burger and Fries for lunch. Literally. I went to Weight Watchers, signed up, and got a cheeseburger and fries for lunch. Isn't that an indication of the change that needed to be made? Sheesh!

By the time my cruise had rolled around, I had lost 15lbs in two months. I even lost 4lbs on the cruise! I was finally feeling successful. The pain in my feet was starting to lessen. And more importantly, the pain in my mind and heart from the "incident" was starting to lessen. The one thing that I've learned during my weight loss journey is it's not just about confronting a number on the scale - it's about confronting the reasons and the emotions behind why the weight was gained in the first place. The more that I addressed my weight, the more I kept reliving the "incident." The weight I carried around was a burden and a reminder of the insulation I had built to protect myself. As I shed the weight, it also meant having to shed the hurt. Part of me had become accustomed to the hurt, if that makes sense. I had lived with it so long, it had become part of me and I had to be willing to let it all go if I had truly forgiven that man. In November 2010, I ran into an acquaintance, someone I only knew by his first name. He seemed uncomfortable, but that's because he was trying to work up the nerve to share with me that I knew his brother - "the man." He didn't know the specifics of what happened, but he wanted to apologize to me on behalf of his brother for the harm he did to me. I can't imagine how difficult it was for him to talk to me about that. But I realized that I hadn't forgiven his brother like I thought I had. God gave me the opportunity to see that I still had work to do in regards to forgiveness. But I resisted the opportunity and turned back to what always comforted me in the past: food. Over the next two weeks, I ate and gained 4lbs. He had invaded my world again, and I wanted to rebuild the insulation. I was so mad at him all over again. I realized that I was scared to let go of the hurt that he had caused. If I let go of the hurt, then what did I have to hold on to? Truly, letting go of the hurt meant that God could have filled that space with something fantastic, but for some reason I kept choosing the hurt because it was familiar.

I reminded myself that all of these emotions were part of the journey, and I didn't want to blow the progress that I had made. I learned that when I was stressed I would pig out. I used food to calm me. I would also use food as a reward for when something good happened. When I celebrated completing my first 5K, I went to Five Guys. It's pretty obvious I have a thing for Five Guys, isn't it? I also used fast food as a crutch. Instead of planning food, I'd convince myself that I was too busy to make lunch so I'd have to get Burger King or Wendy's or Chick-fil-A. I noticed that failure to plan equaled failure at the scale, and disappointment with myself. There were some weeks where I stayed the same, and I was okay with that because it meant at least I was dealing with whatever issue popped up without going to food. At some point I realized that I was tired of being disappointed in myself and by myself, and it was stupid for me to continue to do things that made me hate myself. I decided to start doing less of the things that made me hate myself and more of the things that made me proud of myself. If I knew I couldn't eat out and come away feeling proud of myself, I didn't do it. If eating a second helping of something was going to cause me to feel hatred or disappointment toward myself, even if I had the Weight Watchers points for it, I didn't eat it. If watching TV instead of going for a walk made me feel disappointed in myself, I went for the walk. I didn't succeed at doing this 100% of the time, but "do less of the things that cause disappointment in myself and more of the things that make me proud of myself" was a guiding principal for me and still is today.

During the winter months I joined a gym to keep myself active. I also had set a goal to be able to drastically improve my time at the the 2011 Baltimore Women's Classic 5K. I practiced running for 30 seconds every two minutes or so and would gradually build up my time. The important thing with exercise, for me, was to just do something. When I first started exercising at the beginning of the prior year, I could barely do 10 minutes at 2.0 on the treadmill. My brain, lungs, and legs screamed at me to stop. But I did it. The next day, I did it again. And I did it again after that. I told myself each time that I would look back on this day and remember where I started. I remember going for a walk in my neighborhood and being able to only "run" for 10 seconds. It felt like torture. But I told myself that I was laying the groundwork for Future Erin to live out her dreams. I needed to suck it up and do it for her. And I reminded myself that, a year prior, running for 10 seconds wasn't even an option. Each time I got out there, I could do a little more. My goal was to be able to feel successful at the 2011 Baltimore Women's Classic and do my best race.

By the time the 2011 Baltimore Women's Classic 5K rolled around I had lost 30lbs with the guidance of Weight Watchers (45lbs total) and a lot of hard work. This time I did the BWC with some wonderful women that I met through Weight Watchers. It was amazing seeing each of these ladies succeed at completing their race. I ran/walked my best race, and I was so excited to cross the finish line. I secretly hoped to be finished the 3.1 miles in 40 minutes, and I finished in 38:24 with a 12:22 pace. I shaved 10:52 off my time from last year!! I can't tell you how exhilarating it was to cross the finish line and know that I had given it my best.

Over the next two months, I continued to be diligent about my walking/running and did the River Valley Run in August for the very first time. I had always photographed it and secretly wished that I was like the people doing the run, so I made the decision to just do it. Unfortunately that day I was feeling miserable with a head cold, but I did it anyway. That was another big change for me. Before I would have backed out, but this time, I did it. I didn't worry about beating my time from the BWC, I just enjoyed the scenery and was thankful that I could complete the race - and I did it in 40:30. Not bad for being sick and not really trying!

By the time the fall came around, I found myself losing steam. I knew that come winter I would lose motivation and not want to work it. It's my pattern. So I decided that I needed to change that pattern. Also, I had hit a plateau and I couldn't seem to bust past a certain number on the scale. I had felt good that I had lost all the weight that I had gained from "the incident," but I was stuck at the weight I was when it all started. Mentally, I felt like if I could separate myself from that number than it would give me a clean break from what happened and I could put it behind me. I didn't realize the work God was going to do in me about that number over the winter months.

Read Part 1 of the story here.
Read Part 3 of the story here. 

The Beginning of the New Me - Part 1

2010 was the year I decided I was done.

I was tired of being who I was.

I've always battled with my weight. Between the ages of 15 and 16, I lost 70lbs so that I could be skinny in my graduation picture and on graduation day. I still remember getting on the scale on my graduation day and feeling like it didn't matter what happened that day because the number on the scale was the lowest number I had ever seen. I maintained the number for a couple of years, but then things went downhill. I started gaining weight for no reason. It didn't matter how little I ate, the number on the scale climbed. I panicked. I became depressed. And then the depression got dark. I was tired all the time - REALLY tired - and I could barely stay awake. I was freezing all the time. I'd sit outside on a warm, sunny day curled up in a blanket. I felt like I had a black cloud hanging over my head all the time, and I would randomly start crying. Literally, at the dinner table, enjoying conversation, and then I'd burst into tears. I had panic attacks. I was scared to go anywhere because I wasn't sure if I'd freak out or start randomly crying. I was convinced that I was crazy. I visited a doctor who said there was nothing wrong with me. I visited another doctor who said the same thing. They sent me to a psychiatrist who told me I was suffering a bad break up from a secret boyfriend that I was lying to my mother about. That went over well with us. My depression continued to worsen, and I was at a place where I was scared that I couldn't control it any longer. I wanted to kill myself. My doctor put me on an anti-depressant, which helped. But it didn't explain WHAT was going on. My doctor did one more blood test and the results came back that I had sub-clinical hypothyroidism. I had my answer. Within three weeks of being on Synthroid, I felt amazing. No more depression, no more crazy crying, no more freezing to death. I knew what was wrong with me. I hadn't felt so free in so long. I had started to put the pieces of me back together. I had weathered the storm and made it out alive.

Then a situation happened that profoundly changed me. A man that I knew began putting his hands on me. I did absolutely nothing to encourage it. He'd walk up behind me and massage my neck and shoulders. He'd rub my arms, try to hold my hands, try to kiss my hand. No matter how many times I told him to stop touching me, he didn't get the message. Thankfully, he was removed from my life by men who cared about me. But the damage was done. I felt like he had stolen intimate touches from me. Touches that I had been saving to give to my future husband. I had never been on a date, never held hands with a guy, and this guy blew in to my world and took from me things I was saving. I was so angry that I didn't have the choice to give them to someone I loved because he robbed them from me. I felt such incredible anger at him and especially at God for allowing it to happen. I know now that God used me to be part of this man's downfall so he could hit rock bottom and change his life. I'm genuinely happy for this guy that his life is back on track.

I allowed anger and hurt to rule me for a long time. Subconsciously, I think I decided that if I felt ugly about myself then no man would do that to me again. And the best way for me to feel ugly was to be fat. I also needed a reason why God hadn't given me the one thing I had wanted most: marriage and a family. If I was fat and ugly, then at least I had a reason. Who's attracted to a fat, ugly person? I was in a vicious cycle of food, anger, unforgiveness, and incredible hurt.

By 2010, I realized the damage I was doing to myself. I was about to turn 29, and I just didn't want to live that way anymore. I was tired of drinking the poison of anger, shame, and unforgiveness. I was only hurting myself. I started by forgiving this guy and by asking God for His forgiveness. I know that He doesn't want to hurt me. No where in the Bible does He do anything to intentionally or maliciously harm those who love Him. He wasn't about to start with me. He promises to be with us in the fire, and I blamed Him for something that wasn't His fault. Once I finally came to peace with this, I could move on.

The damage was done. I had gained a significant amount of weight, and I had to face the fact that the number on the scale was not lying. This weight was not who I was. I felt hidden under layers of fat and powerless to change, but I knew that I needed to change, and I had to find a way. I also knew that I had done it before and I could do it again. I decided to do something that scared me: commit to doing a 5K and lay out the cash to prove that I was serious about it. I signed up for the Baltimore Women's Classic 5K, and my goal was to make it across the finish line without passing out and needing them to send a medic to get me halfway through. I joined a training team (hosted by Charm City Run) for beginner/intermediate walkers and had the most fun I'd had in a long time.





This was me on June 27, 2010. I'm smiling, genuinely smiling. And I'm happy, even though I'm hot as blazes and the 101 degree heat was starting to get to me. I'm praying that I can do this. I'm wondering if I will make it. I tried to look cute and athletic, but I wore the wrong pair of shorts - a pair I'd never worn before -  and my thighs rubbed together horribly. This is one time when one shouldn't abide by "fashion over function." I endured 3.1 miles of my thighs rubbing together. Chafed thighs are not one of my most favorite memories. If you decide to do a 5K for the first time, test your shorts out first.

But you know what?

I had to slow my roll, but I finished. Me, who doesn't enjoy sweating, was off the couch and walking 3.1 miles in 101 degree heat.

I crossed the finish line, and the feeling of finishing what I had started was one of the best things I had ever felt. I completed my first 5K in 49:16 (15:52 pace). I wasn't thrilled with my time, but I told myself it was a starting point.

I was proud of me for finishing, and I hadn't been proud of myself in a long time.

Read Part 2 of the story here.

That Girl

I've always dreamed of being That Girl. She's the one I would pass in my car as I was driving into work. It didn't matter the weather, That Girl was outside running. I admired her focus, determination, and dedication. I'd drive by her, wishing that I could be dedicated enough, fit enough... I wanted to be like That Girl.

This morning I stepped into my running shoes, strapped on my Garmin Forerunner, and hit the pavement to train for the 5K I'm doing on February 5th. Did I mention it was 32 degrees and WINDY this morning?

So cold.

So windy.

My nose was dripping like a faucet.

But I did it.

And I actually ran more than I walked.

Then it occurred to me: I was That Girl this morning. I was the girl I dreamed of being. I was out in the freezing cold, running as much as my lungs and legs would let me. And it felt awesome.

I'm so glad the old me started pursuing her dream of being That Girl. I'm glad she didn't give up when she could barely do 10 minutes at 3.0 on the treadmill. I'm glad Old Me believed in something that seemed impossible. I know she would be proud that her hard work and determination not to give up in those early days would yield a sweet reward. There are still more rewards to come, but it does feel good to savor moments like this.

And now... That Girl needs a shower. Dedication has a smelly price.