The Beginning of the New Me - Part 3

I felt the best I had felt - mentally and physically - in a really long time. But I recognized those great feelings were making me complacent. And, while I was feeling healthy, I was still overweight. For my overall health, I still needed to lose some more pounds and inches. For my mental health, I desperately wanted to see the scale go down - more so I could put the incident behind me. I was stuck at the weight I was when the incident began. So I did something drastic. I hired a personal trainer and from November 2011 to mid-January, I met with him twice a week. I used to watch the Biggest Loser and think, "My gosh, would you stop CRYING? Just do the exercise Bob wants you to do! Why do you have to cry? Stop being a weenie and JUST DO IT!" Now, I totally get it. After many of the sessions, I'd get in my car and cry. Working with the trainer made me see how weak I was, how ineffectively I had been using my body, and how much of this journey was about how I let my emotions, feelings, and fear control my response to everything. Personal training, although uncomfortable at times, was one of the best things I've done for myself. My trainer saw potential in me that I've never seen in myself, and he showed me how to do more than I ever thought I could do. He taught me how to say "I can" instead of "I can't."

Even though I was meeting with the trainer twice a week, the scale never budged. I did, however, lose inches and my clothes started fitting even better, but the scale never moved. Even with the success of losing inches, I just felt stuck. And then something started not feeling right. One night, I decided to proceed with my personal training appointment even though my body felt inflamed and I was feeling pain. I've given up so many times before at the slightest ache or pain, so I wanted to push through the pain. But as the session wore on, the pain increased to the point where I was literally doubled over, so my trainer wisely made the call to cut the session short. This pain was different, so I set up an appointment with my doctor right away. He confirmed that something was up, and sent me to get some tests. And then a few days before a test, my back went out. I was in so much pain. Long story short (and detailed here and here), I needed to have surgery.

From the end of January to the surgery in May, I was severely limited in my mobility due to the pain in my back. There were times when I was so frustrated with God. I was trying to change my life. I was trying to get myself back on track so that I could be a more effective person for Him and for others. I was trying to get rid of these things that were holding me back. He knew that I needed to get past this number on the scale. He KNEW it. And He let me become immobile and experience awful, physical pain. I just didn't get it. Not at all. Why do all this work if this is what I get? Why bother working harder? I had been down this road before, so many times before, and I was tired. I just wanted to catch a break. I just wanted to get away from that number on the scale, away from "him," away from those feelings. And God was withholding from me what I wanted!

But during this time, I kept seeing God around every corner. I didn't want to see Him because He wasn't answering me in the way that I wanted. But He was there and making sure I knew He was there. The big way He kept popping up was in the songs I play every day.

"You must think I'm strong to give me what I'm going through. Well, forgive me, forgive me if I'm wrong, but this looks like more than I can do on my own. I know I'm not strong enough to be everything that I'm supposed to be. I give up. I'm not stong enough. Hands of mercy won't you cover me? Lord right now I'm asking you to be strong enough for the both of us." - Matthew West, Strong Enough

"And you're asking why is it always raining on you, when all you want is just a little good news. God's right there, even if it's hard to see Him. I promise you that He still cares. 'Cause if He started this work in your life, He will be faithful to complete it. If only you believe it. He knows how much it hurts." - Mandisa, Stronger

"I’ve got to say this has taken me by surprise. But nothing surprises You. Before a heartache can ever touch my life it has to go through Your hands. And even though I, I keep asking why... No matter what, I’m gonna love You. No matter what, I’m gonna need You. I know that You can find a way to keep me from the pain, but if not, I’ll trust You no matter what." - Kerrie Roberts, No Matter What

"We pray for healing, for prosperity. We pray for Your mighty hand to ease our suffering. All the while, You hear each spoken need, yet love us way too much to give us lesser things. 'Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops? What if Your healing comes through tears? What if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know You're near? What if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise?" - Laura Story, Blessings

The message I kept getting from Him was, "You need to trust Me on this. I'm going to make something beautiful from all of this. This is the uncomfortable stage, but you're going to be a better person - a better person than even you're imagining for yourself. But will you trust me with this?" BIG question. Did I trust God with my weight? Did I trust God to move the number on the scale? Did I trust God to redeem the touches that were stolen from me? Did I trust God to give me the desires of my heart? Did I trust God?

Once I finally got to the place where I completely surrendered this process to God instead of pushing against Him, I felt peace. And not only did I feel peace, I could start to see the bigger picture. The back pain wasn't without purpose - it was there to keep me from further injuring myself. If I had kept at the level of exercise I was doing, I would have caused serious harm to myself. My back pain disappeared immediately after the surgery. The weight that I gained during those few months and consequently the number that the scale showed told me that I hadn't forgiven "that man" as much as I thought I had. There can't be partial forgiveness. It has to be complete. God didn't partially forgive me of my sins. He forgave me from ALL of my sins. It was complete. Not only did He forgive me of all of them, He promised that they are gone from His memory and never to be brought up again. If I bring them up, it's my own issue, but He promises that they are erased from His memory (Psalm 103:12). Because He did this and can continue to do it, why shouldn't He require the same of me? Why can't I offer complete forgiveness to this man?

My pastor did a sermon on forgiveness in May. He said the way to truly know that you've forgiven an offender after saying that they are forgiven is to acknowledge that, "I won't ever bring it up again to the offender, anybody else, or to myself, and I won't rehearse the hurt in my mind." Those words were the key to unlocking the merry-go-round I was riding. I've been guilty of every item on that list, especially rehearsing the hurt in my mind. And it makes sense not to do that because I'm only hurting myself and putting myself back into the cycle of hurt. The only way to bust out and leave it behind is not to do it anymore so the hurt can be left behind. In order to have room for the good stuff on the computer of my mind, I have to drag those corrupt files to the recycle bin, right click on "permanently delete items in recycle bin," and then confirm that, yes, I want to permanently delete them.

It's amazing the freedom that comes from complete forgiveness - whether it's yourself or someone else. It opens up so many more opportunities to invest in others because the focus is no longer self directed. And so I challenge you... who do you need to forgive? You may feel they aren't deserving of forgiveness for what they did to you. I certainly felt that way. But I'd challenge you with this: why are YOU deserving of forgiveness? What makes what you've done any better or worse? You may not have done anything as "big" as someone else, but you've still done things that have caused harm to others. We don't have to do physical harm to someone - the words we speak can cause deep, deep wounds. How can what someone else did to you make them less deserving of forgiveness compared to what you did to someone else? That's the lesson God's been driving home to me. Yes, "that man" hurt me tremendously. But at the end of the day, I've said and done things that have hurt others, including myself. I can't expect forgiveness if I'm unwilling to forgive. And the feeling of freedom and peace that comes through forgiveness is worth the journey.

And so that's where I am. I'm leaving the hurt behind. I was hesitant to even share this part of my story with you because - in the true act of forgiveness -  I didn't want to bring it up, but it's impossible to share the journey God's had me on without sharing that portion. It's is the largest reason for my change. I still struggle with not rehearsing the hurt in my mind. I openly admit that. But being aware of the harmful effect it has on me emotionally, spiritually, and physically has certainly helped to lessen the amount of times it happens. I want to live in freedom, complete freedom, because it feels amazing.

-- Erin

Missed the beginning of the story?

Read Part 1 here.
Read Part 2 here.

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.

Giving Myself Some Beastly Points {Achieving Goals}

So there was this guy running barefoot at the truck. Yeah...barefoot! That was a first for me. He kind of ran on his tippy toes like a 4 year old running through a sprinkler. It took everything within me not to pass him and holler, "Keep going Twinkle Toes!" It was weird, but kind of daring and slightly beastly. It takes a beastly person to run on the Catonsville track and not worry about running over a piece of glass. I admired his lack of fear.

Then there was the tatted dude who was running around the track, sans shirt, so we all could see the time he's spent doing P90X AND his apparent tolerance of the tattoo needle. He looked beastly. But Mr. Beastly Tatted Dude lost beastly points when he stopped to puke.

I was trying really hard not to sympathy puke.

You know what I mean...someone pukes and you feel like you need to puke too.

Anyway, when he hopped back on the track to run another 1/4 mile, he totally regained the beastly points he lost and gained a few extra. Mr. Beastly Tatted Dude was beastly in a mind over matter kind of way because he kept going. I admired his determination.

And then I saw a woman that I know. Compared to the other woman running at the track, she wasn't the fastest and she didn't look as good as the other woman one lane over. But I had to give it to her: she jogged/walked two miles around the track and then ran up and down the full length of the bleachers three times over. I congratulated her on a job well done, but she didn't want to hear it.