Note: Please read all the way to the end of the post. There has been a comment left that totally has mistaken what I was trying to convey. Hopefully once you reach the end my heart and motives will be evident to all. This was in no way meant to be a fat hating/fat bashing post...but inspirational and motivational in every way. Stating that if I have been on the end of needing to lose as much as 60 lbs and not even able to run a full 2 minutes upon beginning my journey that it is not insurmountable and impossible for anyone feeling overwhelmed by weight. I think I am still in awe over the fact that this body that has been so severely overweight in the past can transition and transform into a body that has born 8 amazing children to us but is also capable of running 2 miles....so very drastically far from where I started this journey. I will address it publicly as I have time to think through it. It is not my heart to be a stumbling block to anyone. I just sought to encourage. If you start this post please finish to the very end and know there was no condemnation in my heart in any way for any of you. I chose not to delete the comment or the post for those of you that have already seen it and perhaps had the same feelings as the commenter.
After posting all I have about running, workouts and my accomplishments in that realm of life I felt it only necessary to give some history as to my past life and the weight struggle that has always existed. My point...if I can do this, anyone can. I am so entirely NOT one of those people in life that has always been naturally skinny and athletic and just maintained throughout life....nor am I one of those people that has just always been easily within their weight range. I suppose that reason right there is what has motivated me to be as dedicated to this as I am and also birthed in me the desire to overcome and gain control of my body, of my weight, of all of life. My goal is to oneday write out my entire childhood and all the days in between young life and where blogging picks up. I do indeed have a life story to tell....but then don't we all??? But, in a nutshell, my teenage years were plagued with weight issues. Pretty large ones, actually. Life did not start out this way for me. Much like Evye and Aubrey, my sister and I were worlds apart in body types. She was the naturally thin, skinny, every man's dream person while growing up. Evye has the long, thin girly "feminine" body that America so easily portrays as what is acceptable and, in fact, the norm....the body every man desires. Aubrey is just like me, stout, solid and nothing but a solid wad of massive muscle mass. There is indeed not one ounce of extra unneeded fat on her body but, actually, an intricate maze of fat burning, powerful muscle mass. She can outrun, outlift and overpower everybody but Grayson in our group of children and all of her peers. But so different are Evye and Aubrey's body types that despite the fact they are both in size 10's they cannot share the same jeans due to waist and thigh size differences. I see in her every part of me when I was little. And she is not fat. My sister was the model quality girl of youth...and did, in fact, do some small scale modeling jobs. Every man and their dog proposed to her and there were just some cruel mean times that I survived throughout the years we grew up together. Men can just be mean and cruel...and when your ego is at stake one tends to side with the ego inducing part of life rather than the hurting heart closer to oneself. So, as I was continually shunned by these men over and again as they used me to go after her, got what they wanted and then treated me like crap I began to see myself as not just ugly but butt ugly, overweight and unacceptable and undesirable. Because of how quiet and shy I naturally was and the rejection and hurt buried so deeply within I began to retreat to my room and just read and eat. A way to escape the pain and live in an unreal, fantasy world. My dad took notice and as he saw the weight slowly creeping on became concerned and put me on my 1st, dr prescribed, all liquid diet at the age of 11....my older sister now 16 and coming into the glory days of her "man days". On my 4 wk all liquid diet I did lose weight but just managed to put it all back on...and then some. You know....the whole typical weight loss story of pretty much anyone and everyone. He went on to put me on more and more diets and by the end of it all I think I had been prescribed at least 10 different weight loss "cures" in about a 3 year time span. I was put on everything from numerous all liquid diets to pills to machines that did the weight loss workout for me to pretty much everything. The sad part.....I was not that overweight when it all began. But because of all of these interventions, the growing rejection suffered by both men and my ego starved sister and the havoc wreaked on my system by such extreme dieting I did gain....and gain I did. Men were a cruel, mean part of life. Never was I ever given a second glance. Even some used my neediness and attention starved heart to gain my affection only to get close to the family to go after my sister. This was in the worst of my parents' marriage and it all began to crumble. Divorce was imminent, sister was arrogantly dangling men from every finger she had, gleefully tossing around proposals and the men groveling at her feet, "one upping" me in every aspect of life. So I stuck with my younger brother and developed the sweet friendship that still exists even to this day....a bond that surpasses what most siblings will ever know. A true friend. And I had a best friend that I could go to for anything, a friend that also happened to be a "man hater" in life so we got along well and became inseparable. Oddly enough, we did nothing but read Christian romance novels dreaming of the day our prince charmings would come sweep us off of our feet, onto horseback and we would ride away into the sunset. In my dreams I was the beautiful waif of a girl, femininely built and every man's desire. Beautiful long hair trailing behind in the wind, perfect creamy complexion and as skinny and desirable as my sister. As I dreamed....I ate. Ironic and so entirely contradictory. At one point my dad returned home from work one evening and, standing at the top of our staircase, I overheard him ask if I had put on yet more weight. It devastated me and I went into seclusion, refusing to come out of my room for days. In an effort to makeup for the damage done the family created an "I Love Nikki Night" in which they took me to the most expensive restaurant in Dallas and gave me gifts in which to try and make up for the damage inflicted. It didn't work and I just grew angrier at all of life. I blamed God for making me fat, I hated my sister, I hated her obsession with men, I hated her self righteous ways, I hated my dad that only saw beauty in my sister, I hated men. I hated myself. I hated every man that looked past me in a vehicle to look at her. At one point a truck full of guys were so google-eyed they looked around me to stare her down. So mad at life was I that I stuck my face right in between them and obscured their view, opening my mouth wide and showing off the chewed up donut that occupied it. It's an infamous story within our family that lives on to this day. But the mouthfull shot served its purpose and got them to quit looking. My own mother was skinny and beautiful also. Men continually stared both mother and sister down....drooling as they went. At one point, the 3 of us went for some Mary Kay or Avon makeover crap and both mother and sister were asked on the spot to be models for the catalog. Makeover woman then casually and quite bluntly stated to the 3 of us that I was too heavy for modeling and my pores were too big...that my looks were not "catalog quality". My disdain for my own self was immeasurable. My disdain for life was great....and I was just getting fatter. I eventually topped out at almost 200 lbs at the age of 18 and held there for many years...until I had my first baby. Oddly enough, I only gained 15 lbs during my 1st pregnancy and was thinner than I had ever been in life after his birth and for the next 6 years. It wasn't until after I had twins that I again struggled with weight loss....but not ever did I reach 200 lbs again. In my disdain for all of life the 1st man that ever showed me any attention...a convict no less....were the arms in which I went running into. Finally....a man who saw something in me. Because of my absolute neediness and attention starved heart I ended up living with him despite my strict, homeschool upbringing and father mandated "no dating but only courtship" way of life. In living with him for the year and a half or so that I did I had tried pretty much every drug out there and overdosed on heroine to the point of near death. He and his friend were freely giving it out. Friend had no knowledge of the fact I was ignorant and completely new to this side of life. They sucked it up...way too much for my ignorant self....and gave the injection....and that amount almost took me to my grave. Heart rate fell off and went to some horrifically low number of beats per minute and I fell unconscious. Being on parole and violating it all they feared calling for help so as panic overtook the room the debate was on as to what exactly to do with me. I fell into a blissfully dark, quiet peaceful place in life where nothing in the world mattered anymore and everything just went away. Medic husband marvels over the fact that I did not die that night. I woke up alone some time later fully clothed in a horifically cold shower, water running over me. Since calling 911 would inevitably land the whole lot of them back in prison this was there feeble attempt at "reviving" me. They had fled after depositing me under the cold water in the event that I didn't make it. They didn't want to be held responsible for my "murder". Soooo...that was my experience with the one and only man that ever took an interest in me before adoring, totally consumed with love for me, hero husband came. Convict man did eventually end up back in prison. We ended up on the run, cops looking for him, a lost person's report out on me, living in different hotels every night. We maxed out my one credit card, wrote some 10,000.00 in hot checks from the one and only account I had ever had. As he went back to prison I was left with 19 warrants, an overnight stay in jail and tons and tons of checks to pay off to the District Attorney's office. I had outstanding checks in 3 different counties and warrants out in 2 of those. I set the record for the largest number of warrants held by anyone in the HEB area. Indeed, a record I had always dreamed of setting, for sure. During time spent with convict man there were awful horrid things done to me and I was violated in ways that my ignorant, innocent, sheltered, homeschooled family never saw coming. Another reason I firmly believe in educating your homeschooled children about life. You are to be in the world but not of it....not live in a bubble with your eyes closed pretending that it'll all go away if you don't see it or acknowledge it. Violation of body, mind and spirit was unimaginable. So, my weight???? It's all connected. Thousands of threads weaving together to somehow create squares of my quilted life that God is piecing together into an artfully constructed masterpiece of His. So it is that I grew up with massive weight issues and years of destruction due to the havoc wreaked by it, damage done and rejection suffered. But one of the most rewarding things that came from my many young years of struggling was the determination to break through. And the realization that it takes commitment to attain the goal....any goal. I have fought valiantly to get to a healthy weight and maintain. And if I let it go and don't fight for it I blimp back up. After years of Weight Watchers and changing my overall eating habits I know what it is to be able to stay comfortably within the range I should be. It has become increasingly harder after each baby to lose the weight but I fight for it. I refuse to be a mom of many that uses children as an excuse to hang onto my weight, whether it be 300 lbs.....or 250.....or even 200....or even 180. I have a conviction and I have a goal....as hard as it is to get back to it after each baby. I don't want my husband to have to come to accept obesity, or even any overweight status, as the new norm. I personally do not think it's fair to him. He didn't marry a fat pig so why would I let myself go after I'm in the "safe zone" and know he's committed? Why would I not love him enough to keep myself up and pleasing in his eyes? I want to be the woman that he is proud to introduce as his wife. I think there is some idea of what people assume his wife will look like when they hear he has 8 children. They assume frumpy, fat, prairie dressed and homely...or jeans that go up to my bulging, lumpy waist and a stained dirty tent for a shirt. So when he introduces me to colleagues and fellow firemen I want to be the source of pride in his life. I want to bring him honor and respect in every way. By actions, by words, by my intense love and adoration for him, and even with my body...what I give to him in every area of life. I want him to be admired by others for what God has given him in his wife, his children, his career and the work God is doing in his life in every area. Looks and appearances are certainly not everything in life but it speaks volumes when one cares enough to keep themselves up, keep their home in order and the children are presentable...not dirty, little barefoot, out of control orphans all in need of haircuts...and not a fat, frumpy, homely, bra strap showing, homeschooling mom toting them all around. I do care. I think I care as much as I do because I have a past like I do. I know what it is to feel fat and be largely overweight. I know the rejection intimately. I know how the world views it....whether it is right or wrong is not the issue. It just is. It's a fact. I certainly think one can have conviction about modesty and dress without looking like the typical homeschooling image procured in most minds....what the Duggar's used to be and, to some small extent, still are. So when I say I run...it's not because I have always run. The first time I ever got out and ran anything was during bootcamp days 3 months after Aubrey's birth. Then I never ran another step until 3 wks after Ivye's birth...some 5 children later....at the ripe old age of 34. Life happened, we lost baby Gideon, hemorrhaging involved, severe anemia and running was brought to yet another halt. But once again I run. I run because I do love it. But I love it because not only is it freedom and power but it is also an intense love for myself, my body and my husband....and even my children. Just as I do not want to be a frumpily dressed, overweight wife I refuse to be a mother like that for my children as well. Because I already know what it is to be on that side of it. And it doesn't feel good. When one doesn't feel good about oneself it's hard to take care of every other part of life. It wears on the soul when I continually dislike myself....and extends into the lives of my husband and my children. And I know so very well that when one area is not cared for it affects all areas of my life. I care what adoring husband sees at the end of the day. In some aspects, years of rejection and being overweight made it easier for me to manage weight because I have had to fight for it..every last ounce of it. And I find it interesting that most of those that were naturally skinny in youth have now blimped up and have no stamina or drive to control or maintain a respectable weight. Because they have never had to fight for it like the struggling ones have. Apathy overtakes most of the ones that were naturally thin in their younger years and there is a massive lack of motivation evident. I can say now at this point in life, after all of those years of being strapped in with my highly desired sister, that I am now much more in shape than she is....because she has never in her life learned how to fight for it....never developed the determination and drive to get there cause she just always kind of already had it. After years and years of being on the crapped out end of the deal the tides turned due to fighting so hard for it for so many years and I am now thinner and more in shape than she probably ever will be. Though I weigh in at 163, to be exact, right now with a height of 5'7 I have never in my life been more fit and healthier than I am right now even at 6 wks pregnant, other than the 6 months after Aubrey's birth that I took part in the hard and heavy bootcamp routine. Though I could stand to lose another 15 or so lbs at the current moment I am entirely content with where I am. Because of learning to fight for it and stick with it I am certain that I can run through this pregnancy and stay as fit as I am right now and only come out better on the other end of it. So when I say I run it is not because I always have and have always possessed a "runner's body"...whatever that is. When pictures reveal someone decently within their weight range it is not because I have always naturally been there. This is something I have worked hard for in life. Something that has not come naturally....and, in fact, came from the opposite end of the scale originating from the severely overweight side of life. The rejected side of life. The side of life where I was considered dispensable to men....not even worth taking note of. How cruel men can be to the girls that do not live up to the American "standard". How awful American society is on young girls...and even women. I won't ever be that skinny, straight up and down, waif of a girl. I'll always have intensely curvy hips and what husband describes as an "amazing Colombian booty" that is far from perfectly rounded or far from non existent. I definitely have a butt but I know what it is to help it out now and make the absolute most of it. My stomach may never be as flat as a washboard.....maybe because I have had 8 children or maybe just because I'm not the skinny one in life. But I have learned what it is to fight for a stomach that is enticing to my husband and is worthy of my own acceptance. It is not dimpled with fat cells nor does it lump up or fall over the waist band of jeans. But I have to fight for it. In love husband says he would love me no matter what and I know more than anything in life he speaks in total sincerity and truth born out of adoring love for absolutely everything about me....but why ask that of him? Why blimp up and and ask him to accept the new fat globuled, lump-a-dump woman in his bed? I want to respect him enough to keep myself up. And more importantly, I want to respect myself enough so that I never end back up where I have come from. I know what it is to feel like an insurmountable mountain stands looming. I know what it is to have to lose 40, 50 and 60 lbs. But because of it I have learned to accept myself and my body....appreciate the determination that was born due to struggles.....the drive, the strength to break through to the other side and stay there. So when I run.....I run. Not because I always have and not because it just comes naturally. Not because I am feathery light and can just take off infinitely. I am, in fact, a very sturdily built individual that has learned what it is to get in shape and hopefully stay there. And, for the record, it does feel really good to finally be at peace with myself, to accept what I see in the mirror because I know I have tried. It feels good to think that even after having birthed 8 children the body can recover to a state that is actually better than before it began. I may never be the American dream, the cover of any magazine or any man's fantasy but I have the love, respect and total admiration of my husband that loves everything about me...from my heart and everything I am within, to the determined fiery individual that propels through life at breakneck speeds, to the body he can come home to. I finally have arms that can do 154 pushups. I have legs that show that I can run 3 miles. And I have a butt that shows I have the ability to do 50 jump squats. Still so strange to me and so very far from where I began my weight journey in life. If I can do it...anyone can. So I run, I stay in shape and I keep myself up because I actually am beginning to like myself and it feels good to finally be at that place in life. I've never known before what it is to like my own body. And I run because I am desperately in love with my husband and want him to greatly desire returning home to me...to be the only woman that ever occupies his mind, to be the one that consumes his thoughts, and to be the person he is totally in love with in every way...in every aspect.....spirit, mind, body, soul.
