Well the I decided instead to put pepper in my porridge and went down well! Pepper is a superfood too and it was onmonmon tasty. So take that salt!
This morning I was out running and during a break I got chatting to a fellow runner. The lady was just starting out and I during our conversation she told me that she's love to be slim and told me how lucky I was 'to have my body' and she hoped 'I'd never feel the torment that being fat brings'. And do you know what? I quickly changed the subject to suggesting a better route for the lady. I never told her that raw 'torment' of being bigger was me only 7 months ago. After parting ways, I was running and thought to myself "Why I'm I ashamed?" When I was a bigger person I was ashamed of my body, but why I'm I ashamed now I've lost all my weight? So I continued my run and started thinking to myself, I was embarrassed of that person I used to be. I didn't like admitting I was 179 pounds only 7 months ago. I don't like people finding old pics of me. I don't like it when pictures surfaced on Facebook, on the internet, or in my email. I don't like looking through old photo albums. I don't like talking about how much I used to eat, how lazy I was, how I drank too much fruit juice, how I ate a sweet pudding every night, how I used to sometimes shop in the plus department for clothes, how my underwear always crept up too high to you know where, how I couldn't always shop in topshop like other girls my age because some of their 16's were just too tight.
I didn't like to think back. It made me sad. I'd let it all go, and I was ashamed.
Losing this weight has given me a chance to start over. When I met new people, they didn't know the old, "fatter" (hate that word) me. They only knew the new "thin" me, the one with a small waist, the one with a somewhat semi flatish stomach, the one with lean legs, the one who looked and appeared "healthy". So why I don't I want people to know otherwise? Why don't I want them to know that not that long ago I was anything but "healthy" and anything but "fit". I was the anti-fit.
...and I was ashamed.
In a way I was still hiding behind "me." I was no longer big, but I wasn't being honest...with anyone. I wasn't even being honest with me.
Because the truth is that old person? She IS me. She will always be a part of me. She is part of what brought me to who I am today, and I wouldn't trade who I am today for anything in the world. Nothing could replace the pride and satisfaction I now feel. I am happy. I am confident. I am healthy. and I am "fit". Me.*This epiphany came to me as I was running past a fishmongers, which you know considering I've got the Dali Lama's tree to contend with, isn't all that glamourous. However, it was a very important realisation for me.
That shell my body used to wear is long gone, but the memories, experiences, and trials will forever be a part of me, and I can finally say I don't ever want to forget.
I'm finally honest. I am who I am. Take me for who I was, who I am now, and who I plan to be. It's ALL part of me. "Fat" and "fit". "Weak" and "strong". "Naive" and "trainable". This is who I am now.
When I was coming back into my house, I was stopped my my two neighbours also coming back from a jog. We've rarely see each other these past few weeks since they've been on what seems like 3 holidays and we've been on holiday- they are the cutest old little husband and wife couple. They train hard together, and they both look incredible. We compliment each other often on our physiques, our hard work, and the gains we are making.
Today, due to not seeing me in a while, they approached me somewhat in awe. They'd stumbled across my "before" pictures in an old album they found from two years ago when I popped round on Christmas day with some festive cookies I made for them. They couldn't* believe those pictures were me.
Just the same, they wanted to talk to me about my weight-loss, how it started, what motivated me, and how it stuck.
Apparently the husband was bigger too, way before I was born. He was 19 stone at 5'7. I didn't dare ask him what he is now, but I will tell you that he* is extremely "cut" and looks every bit the part of a seasoned athletic (albeit, he is in his 70's but he's the best looking 70-something I know). He quietly told me the condensed story of his weight-loss, but he quickly admitted he's not quite where I am yet. He's still shy about his weight-loss. He doesn't want people to see his old pictures. They are old reminders of a person he never wants to be again.
It wasn't until I had this realisation that was true to the memories of that old person and openly acknowledged them that I really felt free. I have nothing to hide. I wear my heart on my sleeve; why shouldn't I wear my memories and my transformation on my sleeve as well.
My hope is we can all gain strength through each others successes. And if you've recently undergone your own transformation, I hope you too will embrace it. Cherish it. Share it. Show it.
My advice? Try not to be ashamed.
I'm going to work on not being ashamed. It's not my current reality. The person sitting here right now? This is my current reality.
Every bite and lack of exercise that made me "fat" in the first place also in a way contributed to the stronger more motivated person I am now. Why should I be ashamed of that?
