I really got into the idea. I decided to count calories, record calories burned. I learned that burning 3500 calories was the equivalent to burning one pound. I made it a goal to loose 2 pounds a week. I did three-day diets. I worked out at the gym for an hour to 2 hours a day. Every single day. I was committed. I stopped eating out regularly. I stopped eating junk food. I stopped drinking soda. I invested in new workout clothes when my old ones started falling apart.
And I did get results. I was actually surprised at how the numbers on the scale came down. In 4 months I'd lost 45 pounds. My family, coworkers, and other people around me noticed. They would make comments about me being skinny, being on a diet, and generally draw attention to my body.
And I should have been very proud of myself. But the attention and comments, even when they were meant as compliments made me very uncomfortable. In some ways I did feel a little different. My clothes were too big. I noticed I could sit with my legs crossed without feeling uncomfortable. I noticed that I seemed to sleep a little more deeply.
But I don't feel like I've changed physically- muscles, ability, speed. I still can't run very long, my endurance is awful. I can't lift more weight, my arm strength is a joke. And it's very possible that I didn't realize how over-weight I was, but I don't feel any different. Strangers don't seem to respond to me any differently. When my clothes became too big, it was more of an annoyance and frustration that a triumph.
I used to not think about my body. I used to be content with my appearance. And after all of this I feel more insecure and more depressed than ever about my body. According to the national stats, I am currently classified as obese for my height. The focus and attention on my body has made me more aware of it's many flaws, from my stomach to my thighs, to my arms and my chin. Losing weight has made me more unhappy about my body than I'd even been.
I have discovered that I do like pushing my body, sweating, letting my mind melt away as I focus on pedaling harder, elipticaling faster, pushing my heart rate up. I like the feeling of working hard. But if I was doing this just to look better, I feel like this would have been a failure. Granted, I don't look at myself all the time, so others around me probably notice those physical changes more than I do. But I have not recognized any of the supposed benefits in appearance that are supposed to accompany weight loss.
My long rambling is hard to follow, but my point is this- We American woman are taught that weight loss is the answer to all of our problems. We will be more healthy, we will look better, our clothes will fit better, more men will want to date us, people like skinnier people, etc. And of course there are situations where weight loss is an important part of response to a medical issue. But it is not the simple solution to all of life's problems. And when we reduce the process of weight loss to a pill or a surgery or a weight loss shake and expect our entire lives to change, as if we are experiencing a movie montage, we will be disappointed. Life is more complicated and focusing on appearance will not change the many other problems and issues in life.
The reality for me is that I am closer to "normal" than I've been since high school. And I certainly plan on continuing to workout consistently, and trying new forms of working out from boxing to cross-fit. But I've had to dramatically reshape my expectations and goals associated with working out. I'm not going to focus on a dress size, I'm going to train for a triathlon. I'm going to measure my heart rate, not my waist.
I'm not going to expect that looking a certain way will change the way that people treat me. I want my body to be a tool, the paintbrush, not the painting. And I believe that this focus will ultimately enable me to be successful and even, someday, happy.
