I am fat. I have been most of my life. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t look morbidly obese and I could run a mile if I had to (although I’m not sure why anyone would want to MAKE me), but the bottom line is I have always been a chunky little monkey.
Notice I don’t use the term “struggle” or “battle” when I talk about my relationship with the scale. To say that I struggle with weight loss would imply that I put up somewhat of a fight. I don’t. I drink, I splurge on nice steak dinners, and I pass on workouts if I’m not in the mood. When the loose pants become not so loose, I panic, race to Trader Joe’s, and collect the biggest reusable bag of produce I can carry. Two weeks later, my fridge is abundant with moldy soggy vegetables that were supposed to be the stars of my makeover show. Those poor little Asparagus spears, they didn’t stand a chance. I would hardly call this “managing” my weight. I get on the myfitnesspal bandwagon and it tells me that in order to lose weight I need to consume 1200 calories per day. That doesn’t count when I am at a ball game, right? Try and live healthy while attending three hours of hot dogs and pretzels and nachos, oh my. A heavily processed, carb loaded bazaar disguised as a family friendly outing. My ass! Well, my ass enjoys the Cholula Kahluah Nachos, but I digress, let’s get back to the point. I am fat and need to be not so fat. Enter Stage Right: Crossfit!
In 2009, I was introduced to Crossfit (and a super hot, friendly trainer). We’ll call him Gabe. Well, because that’s his name and he deserves all the credit in the world for changing my life and being super hot. As a chubby lil bunny who mascotted and tap danced her way through life (hence the scary man calves), I NEVER in elevendy billion years thought that I, Karen the Thick, would be capable of ANY of the workouts that are commonly found being tackled in a Crossfit Box. After three months, I was working out six days a week, jumping up onto tractor tires, perfecting my burpees, and not shaving ANY time off my runs (we can’t win ‘em all). I was amazed that after a few months I could hang with the big girls. Not only was I now ABLE master things I thought I could never do, I was mastering things that I never thought I would WANT to do. Fat Girls don’t run twelve miles in the mud with obstacles. Fat Girls root for their fit friends running twelve miles in the mud. For the first time in my life, I didn’t feel like a fatty, I felt like a fitty. I knew there was no turning back, the feeling of accomplishment after each WOD was indescribable.
This is the part of the story where you would think that I go on to tell you that I shed 30 pounds, competed in the Crossfit Games, became certified, opened my own Box and became an inspiration to short Chubbies all over the world. Sucker, you lose. I moved to a new town, started a new job that was incredibly time consuming, began to devote the majority of my time to my ailing dog (pour some out for the HD) and basically quit Crossfitting. In the back of my mind I was mad at myself for not making it a priority, but the Pulled Pork-Eating Devil on my right shoulder told me it wasn’t my fault, and that I would get back into the swing of things eventually. I’m not sure where the Angel was, perhaps at Taco Tuesday or Whiskey Wednesday. I should have a talk with her…..
I think I have finally had enough. I lost some lb’s for Spring Training, thought I was back on track, then Wedding Season smacked me in the face with Hydrangea and Stephanotis. I’m back up to my Mayday weight and I find myself once again wondering, “How the heck did I get here?” Instead of blaming Age and Metabolism, I have decided to do something about it. Earlier in 2012 I had a friend that was exhausting me with his woes. It was a great lesson for me and my motto for 2012 became “Don’t bitch about stuff if you aren’t going to do anything about it!” Don’t act like a victim and cry about your problems, be proactive and fix them.
I wiped out my cupboards yesterday. I spent $100 at Trader Joes’ this morning on grass fed beef, vegetables, nuts and fruits. Crossfit preaches Paleo, and it’s a no brainer. Eat clean and get results. To plagiarize from my new favorite website, www.nerdfitness.com, we were once hunter gatherers and life was good.
“The average Homo Sapien back then: tall, muscular, agile, athletic, and incredibly versatile.
The average Homo Sapien now: overweight, out of shape, stressed out, unhappy, sleep deprived and dying from a myriad of preventable diseases.
So what the hell happened? Agriculture! A few thousand years ago humans discovered farming, the agricultural revolution took off, and we advanced from hunter-gatherers to farmers. We settled down, formed societies, and the human race progressed to what we are today.”
Thanks Steve Kamb, eloquently said. It may sound extreme, but it also seems so simple. Here it is, I’m officially saying it, “K-Ron is going Paleo!” I am now dairy and gluten free! I will keep you updated on my progress. I think it’s important to make public some of our weaknesses. It holds one accountable. Now that you all know that I weigh a whopping 163 pounds, I will be forced to take my desire seriously. I will have friends rooting for me or reminding me of what’s important to me. I want to be able to push a golf cart when I’m Eighty. I believe everyone has a breaking point with their vices or displeasures, and I am happy to have found mine. Wish me luck friends, the nacho monster doesn’t stand a chance!