Show and Tell Monday - Return of the Gym Goddess

Today I am showing and telling a little bit about me. I have somehow allowed myself to get lost, and the girl that I used to be is begging to come back out again. It's not so much about getting older as it is about me letting myself go. Look, I am a certified personal trainer. I haven't trained anyone in two years, but still. I know better, I know how I've gotten here, and I know how to get out.


Here's me, just a few years ago...

My hair was a little flat, but the thing that's most striking
about this photo is that I remember feeling fat and I wasn't. 

Now, there just aren't excuses for what happened, yet I feel the need to defend my position. During this time, I worked out about an hour a day, and didn't do any cardio. (Cardio made me hungry, made me eat more, and didn't do much for my appearances, and while it is great for the heart and lungs, it wasn't on my agenda.) It was all lifting heavy and eating light. Clean, not much fat, even less bread. Somehow, I managed to drink all the beers in the world, but then again, I was dancing four nights a week.


In the past two years, some physical issues that later amounted to nothing, set me off course. I started getting sloppy with my eating, sloppier still with my workouts. Growing out of my size 4 pants was a small shot to the ego, but when the size 6 jeans started getting tight, I knew I was in trouble.  It doesn't sound like a big deal, a tight size 6, but it looks like a big deal. At 5' 4", the added pounds are noticeable and uncomfortable. I hate getting dressed in the morning and feel icky. I am thankful for my health, and all that I have, but I still want to improve on my body's structure.


I've gotten lost in a bigger waistline, and I don't like it. I am only 'showing and telling' because I've finally committed to change, and have proven (to myself) that I am taking this seriously. For the past two weeks, I've committed to hour long workouts five days per week. And while I am not eating as clean as I should be eating, I am heading in that direction. My boyfriend W has been so supportive (and he tells me that he thinks I'm beautiful just the way that I am) and has been working out with me, which makes it so much nicer. It's always more enjoyable working out with someone you are incredibly attracted to; it's sexy.


Once I've gotten my gym routine down to a science, which I am thinking will be after the school's winter break, I am going to add yoga back into the mix. Yoga has helped me to focus inward, to breathe, and greatly improved my total body image. 


So here are two more photos to inspire me, because I still need the reminder that I used to look pretty tight, and can do it again... (the before photos)

We be former gym rats. Pat drinks a beer, and Jabbar gives me a squeeze. Circa 2005

and then, in Rhode Island, I took a typical (then myspace) photo of myself in the bathroom. I cropped out my then 5 year old, who was peeing on the potty.

I loved that outfit. I've hung onto the jeans,
and I'm hoping to rock them this summer.

W sent me an old video of myself, something funny, me casually bellydancing at a (country) club but dressed in Christmas party attire. The video was just silly, but I looked and saw sculpted legs, and a small waistline. I had it! I can have it again!


Now, here's me, a bit more Rubenesque, if you will. I searched high and low for the best of the worst photos. I was unable to find a full body shot, most probably because I don't let people take full body shots anymore. This was Labor Day weekend, after a day of boating. Big change.

Older, wiser, and 15 lbs. heavier.
Not a proud moment.

Giving up on vanity has allowed me to spiral to a place where all of my clothes are tight. Both frugality and a giant ego will not allow me to buy bigger jeans (okay, maybe I bought a pair or two, but I refuse to wear them). 

I avow to continue my new programs, with both exercise and food in check, and will plow on until I get back (or at least close) to where I was before. To Louis CK, who says you won't look better at 48 than you did at 40, I say, "Watch me."