Note 6 ☕️
6.
Self-fulfilling prophecy?
Don’t put me on a sports team.
I’ve never been a great athlete or even a good one. I’m great at creative pursuits. I have decent hand-eye coordination. While I’m very competitive with myself, I’m not sporty. I’m more of a blend of Posh Spice, from the widely popular Spice Girls and any diva. Getting sweaty and winded on a team isn’t my idea of fun. I’ve always enjoyed working out alone with a carefully curated playlist saved on my 80GB black iPod.
My playlist starts slowly with the “Eye of the Tiger”, and as my heart rate increases, my song tempo increases. “I Would Die for U” by Prince, for example, is near the peak of the playlist as is “Holding Out for a Hero” from the old-school Footloose soundtrack. Lots of electronic music. Dubstep. Prodigy. JLo “Waiting for Tonight Hex Hector mix. My playlists were intentional and eclectic. Like riding a rollercoaster. Slow going up. Lightning fast going down. Music saved many a workout in 2013-15.
In 2014, I participated in Weight Watchers, and I was losing weight steadily. Dropping between 3-5 lbs a week at weigh-in. After decent success without working out, I hit a wall. Around 150 lbs. My weight plateaued. The scale would not budge for about 6 weeks. After much frustration, I visited my local gym, the Renaissance Fitness Center, and purchased a membership. Frankly, the thought of working out with other people around me was uncomfy. I was far removed from dance class with ballet, tap and jazz, where I excelled as a young girl.
In the winter of 2015, my gym publicized a new program called “The Biggest Loser.” I didn’t watch the television show often, but I knew the premise. I enrolled out of the desire to beat my current weight plateau and broaden exercise and eating knowledge. Perhaps I’d discover something new.
As you might imagine, I was the picture of health at that time. If I didn’t share my lupus life, no one would know. The toxic boyfriend, systemic lupus erythematosus, faded into the background. Thoughts of healing and remission lay ahead. All was quiet and calm. No random pop ups. No worries. No drama.
Fridays and Saturdays were devoted to Weight Watchers in the morning. Sundays after church were dedicated to the Biggest Loser challenge. The coaches for the challenge required us to participate in most of the events to qualify. On the first day of the Biggest Loser, a Sunday afternoon, a small crowd of around 50 people plus the staff and trainers gathered in one of the workout rooms at the gym.
As usual I sat alone listening intently to conversations in the room. Participants chatted about programs they completed, diets they wanted to try, and personal experiences. I, in my early thirties, did not have stories about children, husbands, day care, or mommy flab. I stayed quiet, silently collecting experiences to add to my mental Rolodex.
The excited staff members explained the journey. I don’t recall how many weeks the program would be, but I recall a myriad of activities and weigh-ins planned for the group.
The staff divided the larger group into small 5-member groups. Begrudgingly I thought, “looks like I’m gonna have to be social.” Not a fan of small talk. I enjoy deep, lifegiving conversations.
My personal trainer, Jolene, was the leader of my group. Good! Jolene was a familiar face who trained me at the gym. She also taught Pilates. She was long and lean, direct and honest. Jolene seemed to be the type of person every “nice girl” needed as part of her friend circle. I’ll never forget the moment she gave me advice that continues to stick with me.
The gym was busy and Jolene elected to train me outside on the large sidewalk in front of the gym. People were leaving and coming. They wanted to walk on the sidewalk. When a person walked by us, I moved out of the way, repeatedly. After moving out of the way several times, Jolene said, “don’t move out of the way.” Taken aback, I thought to myself “well should I just stand here and possibly bump into someone?” Jolene said, “they can walk around.” True.
Passers saw my trainer and I working out, but still wanted to “get by” instead of politely walking around us. Her words were imprinted in my mind. From that day forward, I decreased my need to make others comfortable by moving out of the way. Suddenly making myself small and “good girl” likable didn’t appeal as much. Inner growth took place.
Over the weeks to follow, I focused on the lean life. I cut back on delicious treats I indulged on the WW points system. In love with McDonalds ice cream cones, I ate several a week soon after weigh-ins. I gave up the ice cream cones, diet sodas, and dairy. Happily participating in a 40-day fast, I eliminated more and more from my diet. I walked more and watched my salt intake. I stayed away from heavy weights, opting instead for lighter weights with more reps.
For some weeks, my small group would participate in challenges such as indoor rock-climbing, relays, workout stations. I dreaded all that activity, but found some joy in indoor rock climbing daring myself to go higher, without a harness. What a time of adventure.
At the final weigh-in for the Biggest Loser at my gym, I was leaner than ever before. This was personal. I wanted to reach 132 so that I could be a lifetime member of Weight Watchers. At 5’2 and a size 6/8, I was tiny. Gone were the large clothes from Lane Bryant. Gone were the size 16/18 dresses. I shopped at the Loft quite frequently, running up my credit card bill. However, my mentality did not shift toward my new weight, as I was unable to appreciate my new size. More on that later.
After the final weigh-in, it was time to announce the winners of the Biggest Loser. At that point, my attention zoned out. I wasn’t in the running for winner or runner up. I made it through the challenge, and now I was ready to move on to lifetime membership at Weight Watchers. When I heard my name as the winner of the Biggest Loser, I was startled and flabbergasted!
Maybe they had the wrong person? Maybe I misheard? No.
I won the gym challenge. I was the gym Biggest Loser.
The room bursted into applause. Apparently participants and coaches watched me through the process and seemed genuinely excited that I won. Even now, years later, I am still shocked that I won. I joined the challenge for myself, not to win the whole challenge.
This win took place half a year before my hair fell out never to return due to a lupus flare later on in the year. This win happened, but I never quite made it to lifetime membership at Weight Watchers. I could not sustain the weight loss, especially when I began dating again. I started psyching myself out and spending less time in the gym.
Within the next few years, I regained all the weight. I never fully saw myself as successful with workout and weight loss. I did not give myself enough credit. My mind and body never aligned with the work I did. Therefore I reverted to how I saw myself. My body followed my mindset.
Lesson learned: Work as diligently on mindset and mental health as you work on weight loss and body changes.
Thanks for reading.