I’ve heard before that because I’m a plus size fashion blogger that I’m supporting an unhealthy lifestyle. That I give women an excuse to not take care of themselves. I love being the first in line to respond by telling those people that hey, actually, I work out every day, and I’m gonna start blogging about that, too.
As some of you may have read or seen on YouTube, I have been doing Jillian Michaels’ 30-Day Shred for about 30 Days now. I’ve, admittedly, taken approximately 3 days off, total, over the course of the 30 days. I’ve been sick with a summer cold / maybe some kind of allergies / but really maybe because I went too hard at BlogHer and was around a lot of cigarette smoke at a rooftop party. Anyway, even though I’ve been sick, and I did miss 2 days of Level 3 … it doesn’t seem to matter. I am still pretty sore today.
The soreness ended long about Level 2, but Level 3 is not messing around. At all.
I think it’s the move with the weights and the kicking, and the move where you alternate pushing up and then back down on one arm. Killing me.
I went through my *entire* closet this weekend (okay, I didn’t get to the shoes yet), and I tried everything on. I haven’t been able to wear a lot of my clothes recently. I was starting to discover that my blazers weren’t fitting at the beginning of the year. And then pants stopped fitting. And dresses I’d just bought a few months ago weren’t closing, and I was panicking.
I’ve always been health-conscious, I’ve always been a walking encyclopedia of healthy eating and workout knowledge. My dad took me to my first Weight Watchers meeting at the age of 5. Seriously. He was trying to talk me into a gastric bypass by 16, while simultaneously putting me into the Rice Diet Program at Duke. Yeah. The one where Big Pun died that summer. That’s another blog post.
Girl. That’s a lot of clothes.
Clearly, I have a LOT of clothes. And I haven’t been out shopping in awhile because since my agency and I parted ways a few months ago, I don’t have the money to spend, I don’t have a reason to buy new clothes because I don’t have a fancy office to wear them to, and I was having trouble justifying buying things that seemed to suddenly not fit a month later.
Clearly, I have some baggage when it comes to food, weight, and talking about weight loss. Because I’ve had knee injuries, foot injuries, and emotional and mental injuries over the years, I seem to have just stopped working out and gotten into a groove of eating in front of the television. And I’ve gotten comfortable. Oh man have I gotten comfortable. I have this incredible relationship with this man who loves me. Man does he love me. And we have gotten comfortable together.
Where are you stowing all that baggage woman?
I mean, I still occasionally meandered to the gym over the last couple of years. I still went to dance class when I could muster the mental fortitude. I still ate salad every day. I still juiced at home, tried juice cleanses, and tried to count calories diligently. I was still gaining weight and losing muscle mass that I worked HARD to achieve in my early 20′s and quickly destroyed with an eating disorder, physical isolation, and some relatively unhealthy and sometimes abusive relationships.
I realized that Brooklyn and I … we’ve not been totally good for each other physically.
I have always been big, plus size, an inbetweenie, worn double digit pants. My entire life. For as long as I can remember. And I’m not trying to fool anyone into thinking that I’m going to be any smaller than double digit pants.
But what about the FASHION Netta? Are you going to make us feel bad for not working out?
And I don’t want anyone to start hyperventilating. Not that I think anyone is actually out there READING my blog posts, but I will most likely continue talking about plus size fashion because I love clothes and can’t seem to stop talking about them, and I will continue to talk about body positivity, loving yourself at the size that you are, and taking care of yourself at every turn. Because as I’ve gotten older, looked at the massive amounts of money I’ve put into clothing and looking good, I realized that I’ve got to take care of myself at this turn. I need to put money and energy into the other half of feeling good. And I’m going to start doing a lot more talking about taking care of yourself (and taking care of myself).
No one else is going to up and fix this hot mess that I’ve created. It’s not going to fix my knees or my foot. It’s not going to fix not wanting to face the truth about how much of a difference working out makes in my life. I’m still 230+ lbs, and I am still struggling with the desire to work out. But I am in control of it, and I’m going to make it happen.
When do you feel good again?
I feel good when I get dressed up in fancy clothes or come up with a new look. I feel good when I feel pretty. I do not feel good when it is hard to vacuum. I do not feel good when my knees ache or my feet hurt from having stood up for a few hours. I do not feel good when it becomes painfully clear that I still cannot wear high heels. I do not feel good when I’ve spent massive amounts of money on clothing I can’t wear anymore.
And dammit, I am going to feel good physically again. I am going to ride my bike with less knee pain. I am going to kick this foot pain somehow. If it’s the last thing I do. I am going to dance again without crippling pain the next day. Some day – I WILL WEAR HEELS AGAIN.
So now what.
I’m starting a new series on my YouTube channel called Fat Chick Workout. It’s gonna be me … fat chick Netta … working out. I’m going to try workouts, and then I’m going to tell you what they’re like doing as a fat chick. I’m not going to promise that I’m not going to shrink as a result of these workouts. But I will promise that I’m not going to turn into someone who’s going to tell you that your entire life’s purpose needs to be focused on losing weight. Because any time that losing weight has been the focus in my life, the situation has ended negatively. The focus must be to be healthy.
And to have a sense of humor about trying to do kettlebell swings with bad knees and feet. Because sometimes when working out, if you don’t laugh, or grunt, or holler out, you will cry. (God that sounded painfully close to a metaphor for life. Watch out … self-help guru book deal in 3 … 2 … 1!)
So, I hope you’ll join me. Or at least watch me sweat and pity me.