Well, my friends. Tomorrow is my birthday. And I turn 33. #YayYikes
I don’t mind birthdays. And I don’t think there is really anything extra significant about turning 33.
Except this year, God has been on the move. A lot.
Actually, He has been at work hardcore for the last 11 years. Actually, most of my life.
But I digress.
This year was a year of freedom. Of breakthrough. And so I want to share my story and celebrate it. (This is probably going to be a long-ish post. So get comfortable). #YouveBeenWarned
I do not write this post as “WOW, look at me! I’ve arrived!” Because I haven’t. Not hardly. I absolutely celebrate the victories large and small that I have conquered through the years, but even more so, I rejoice that God was behind every mile ran, every pound/inch lost, every reset moment, every positive food choice.
I also do not compose this blog as a weight-loss how to. This is about my spiritual journey more than anything. Yes, I know (in my head) that God loves me no matter my pant size or that pesky number on my scale. (He loves you too, BTW). I know (in my head) that I am fearfully and wonderfully made, I am beautiful, etc. This is my journey of getting my heart to really believe those truths and LIVE them out. To live as a Jesus girl capable of victory in this area of my life. To be able to go to the doctor’s office and not be completely terrified of what the scale is going to say. To turn to God instead of the fridge when things in life get stressful.
I’m still learning more and more about WHO I am and WHOSE I am. I have Jesus-gut feeling that this will probably be a lifetime process.
And so, here’s my fitness story and how God has transformed me from feeling defeated and discouraged to hopeful and healthy.
I’ve been working on my physical health for over 11 years now. Long story still long, I grew up really overweight and used food as an emotional out and a crutch. It’s been a long, hard battle, and it still is. Everyday. I have a sneaky feeling that for me, this was the “thorn” Paul was talking about.
Regarding my physical health and weight, I lived most of my young life with a suspicion that things weren’t ok (especially when it became extremely difficult to find clothes that would fit me and clothes shopping almost always ended in tears). But stayed firmly in the mindset of “I will deal with it later.” I wanted to go with what felt good in the moment.
And isn’t that how so many of us fall into a perpetual cycle of sin!
I didn’t want to work out because it seemed so incredibly overwhelming. In college, I would go to the gym and go so hard with no real knowledge of what I was doing that I would practically break myself. Obviously, I didn’t see changes in one trip to the gym (or was so intimidated by all the already-fit people there) that the effort never lasted long.
But God knew how to get my attention. He understood my motivation: Academics. I was a junior in college, unfit, and still living in denial (and fear) of my fitness (or lack thereof) issues. One day, I was sitting in my Animal Science and Industry class, Anatomy & Physiology. Great class, but super tough. The prof was awesome, but he was serious about teaching things and making it stick. (Can you say oral final examination with a group? YIKES).
Dr. Rozell said something about “extra credit.” My overachieving ears perked right up. I wanted all the help I could get to pull an A in the class. Doc said that we would get extra credit if we went to the KSU Rec Complex and had a (free) nutrition/personal training consultation then wrote a paper about it.
That was the motivation I needed. I went. And that short consultation with personal trainer Erin gave me a spark of hope. Maybe, just maybe, I could change.
And thus started my journey. There were ups and downs (literally) and the fitness pendulum swung from being crazy-pants obsessed and going with all I had or just sliding back into “Maybe I will deal with this later.”
Alpha of Clovia’s formal, Crystal Ball, in 2007 right before I started my fitness journey. (Pictured with good friend Billy Brown)
January 2007 (I think) about 9 months before starting my journey. I spent New Years with a friend in New Jersey/Delaware and was at my all-time (non-preggo) heaviest.
Early summer, 2010 after marrying my Beloved Brandon… I was about 30 ish pounds lighter than my starting weight.
I saw *some* success with the various diets and workouts, but still hadn’t gotten to the root of the issue.
Fast forward to 2013-2014. In 2012, I had a miscarriage, then got pregnant and had our daughter Charis. Although I was in ok-ish shape before getting pregnant with Charis, I still felt kind of defeated. I didn’t FEEL healthy. It was still a constant source of stress.
When I was pregnant, I gained 60 pounds. (And no, I wasn’t eating Doritos and chocolate cake everyday). I’m sure a lot of my weight gain was from seeking comfort from food (again/still) because of anxiety and stress of pregnancy. Plus, my genetics aren’t exactly on my side (I’ve had my metabolism checked, and it is on the lower end of low… and obesity runs in the family, on both sides. PLUS my body has forever been like “STORE FAT. MAKE BABIES.”)
Maybe some of you identify with that…
Four months after having Charis… Reaching all time-highs of stress and anxiety (Apparently parenting is hard or something). Pictured with college bestie Emily as we PCS’d from Fort Benning, GA to Fort Lewis, WA.
Home riding “Booker” our horse. It was SO hard for me to get on him by myself– it was a lot of weight to hoist up there on my own!
Anywho, after my daughter was born, I went after it. Again. Harder than ever.
And I almost took it too far.
I lost a lot of weight, but I. Was. MISERABLE.
I became obsessed with counting calories. I was obsessed with burning as many cals as I could when working out. I was hungry ALL. THE. TIME. All I thought about was food and working out.
And oh, Jesus in heaven– was I ever mean! I am ashamed for how I treated my husband and my daughter in that season. It sucked.
But I couldn’t see it at the time.
After about a year of striving and stressing, I hit my lowest weight ever, but still wasn’t “happy.” I was fitting into single-digit jeans, which had never happened before. Still no joy. I still felt so defeated. People commented that I lost weight, but now, looking back, I realize didn’t even LOOK healthy. My face had that sunken, sickly look. Not good, I know. (Check out the next couple of pics and tell me if you don’t agree…)
Around Labor Day in 2014, after running a half marathon (what?!?) earlier that year, I still felt so discouraged (hello, Jerkface Satan!) I was so consumed with food (or lack of food and rest in my life) that God finally broke through. I had made the scale my idol. My day was made (or destroyed) by those stupid numbers. I sometimes weighted myself multiple times per day.
Yes, my waist might be small… But my heart (and stomach) were both empty. I had a craving for something much bigger than this steak (see also: Jesus).
I often worked out so hard (and at so little) that functioning the rest of the day was almost impossible. I was nearly worthless because I had no energy.
It had gotten so bad that I didn’t want to “eat” a cough drop because it had calories. I personally believe I was on the precipice of having a full-blowing eating disorder (anorexia nervosa). But that Labor Day weekend as I sat on my “Thinking Log” down by American Lake, God got ahold of me and (gently) told me to KNOCK. IT. OFF.
So I did.
And, unsurprisingly, a good chunk of the weight came back on, because I had been starving myself for months.
Fast forward (again). The next year, I ran a full marathon, which, for this formerly morbidly obese asthmatic, was a victory itself. (And exciting!) I was now working out for God, not just for me. I was letting Him begin to guide my journey.
The next spring, I got pregnant with our son.
And gained 60 pounds again. (Once again, this did not include massive amounts of cake or things that were fried, smothered and covered, although not for lack of desire).
Right before my son was born, I was at my heaviest weight ever in my life (yes, I know I was preggo, so there’s grace there). But still, I was stressed about it. I knew there wasn’t a whole lot I could do about it till baby was born and I had been cleared for exercise.
In spring 2017, I was able to start working out again. I was still majorly struggling with anxiety and finally realized I needed help. (Read the whole story about asking for help with my anxiety here).
And friends, wouldn’t you know it… Once I allowed the Lord to take care of my mental health, the physical health soon followed.
Don’t get me wrong. The last 19 months have not been easy. Not by a long shot. But I’ve felt and experienced His victory more now than ever before.
This whole fitness/physical health thing is super complex, at least for me. It’s not just losing weight, doing push-ups or running miles. It’s so much more than calories. It’s a healing journey. It truly is a new lifestyle, especially mentally. It’s figuring out what works for my (very stubborn!) body. I’ve done Paleo, Whole30, counted calories (we saw how THAT turned out), and most recently, Ideal Protein and Keto (I saw great emotional successful with W30, and legit physical success with IP and Keto).
Now, I am in a very new season. One of maintenance. I’m re-learning (again) how to eat to live, not live to eat. I could probably write a book about all of the spiritual thoughts, revelations and breakthroughs I have had in the last few months (and continue to have). And maybe someday, I will write that book.
So friends, this is where the Lord has brought me. This is how He he continues to draw me deeper, redefining how I view myself. How I feel about myself. How I rejoice in His creation, His masterpiece that is my body. (Yes, I said it– my body is a MASTERPIECE. And so is yours!)
In my before and after picture, you likely notice the change in pant size. Sure, we can see the difference that about 80 pounds (and 60 ish inches!) can make. I notice that I now have biceps and a collarbone! (Ok, I know I had those before but I never really saw them. Flexing is super fun now. I understand why my husband can’t walk by a mirror without showing of his guns).
But even more than that… Please, please, notice my expression. I always wondered why people in “before” pictures on fitness/weight loss ads were never smiling. I thought it was some sort of advertising ploy. Now I know. They likely didn’t feel very good. They were like me: Stressed, anxious and freaking exhausted. (I did have many moments of joy in my weight journey, and I had seasons of happiness before my new level of health. But the stress and concern and weariness just made it a lot harder to access. It’s like it was all jumbled up in the chaos that was my tired, sluggish mind and body).
My expression in this photo is a reflection of my heart. My pant size might be smaller, but the joy and peace abiding in my life continue to grow. For where the pounds have fallen off, abundant grace flows to fill those places. He has lovingly, patiently and continually takes me from the old place of defeat and discouragement into a new normal of hope and health.
Yes, my clothes are a few sizes smaller now. But I tell you what, friends– My God is bigger than he’s ever been.
So all I can say is thank you, thank you Lord… And happy birthday to me! Here’s to many more years of being spiritually and physically fit, seeking Him, growing, (hopefully) encouraging others, setting an example for my dear children, honoring my husband and my God by making a (non-obsessive) effort to take care of this temple that is my body.
Now… Where’s the birthday cake?
“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!” ~2 Corinthians 5:17
