SeeingRred
The Unburdening
I had not seen her since June 2013, just prior to my youngest son being born. Soon after the birth, M. had assumed drop-off duty for our two older kids’ karate classes, so that I could spend some quality time with our new baby :). Now, February 2014, back into routines, I walked into the dojo and had to do a double take. Except for the platinum blonde hair, now grown out from a sharp military crew cut to a shoulder length bob, and the fact that she was behind the counter wearing her customary gi, she was unrecognizable. She looked sooo different. She was super skinny, her face sculpted, her arms toned. She was tall to begin with, but with her weight loss she was an amazon woman, towering over us all! She looked incredible! And, it took everything in me not to stare. The whole time I sat in awe. How was this possible? It had been only a short time and yet, in front of me stood a woman physically transformed. I went home that day and she was all I could think about.
She had made a lasting impression. I remember telling my family and friends about her, anyone I sat down with for a more-than-a-minute-exchange. Each week, I desperately wanted to ask her what she had done, but could not bring myself to do it. We had never had a real conversation outside of a casual, friendly hello/talk about the weather – This, in itself, was unnerving and too much for me, let alone breaking the ice with such a personal topic. Besides, I rationalized, maybe her extreme weight loss was the result of illness! No, I definitely could not ask!
Months passed. During that time, I observed her and marked the changes. I noticed that she held her head higher with her back a little straighter, was more liberal with her smiles, and walked with a happy bounce in her step. Now a source of intrigue, I admired her and envied her, this woman who held the secret that I so coveted. I saw her every week and each time I played out in my head the different ways I could possibly start the conversation. I tried, in fact, a number of times, in hope that magically the few words of engagement would spark a conversation and I would muster up my nerve.
On April 22, 2014, one day before my birthday, I got a surprise. It was from her. In response to all the inquiries she had received about her weight loss (None from me… I had chickened out!), she had sent out an email to all Milton Academy of Martial Arts (AMA-Milton) members and their parents. It was an announcement that she had teamed up with her own personal fitness instructor/club owner and, together, they were running a 12-Week Program. It would incorporate Health & Nutrition sessions, Weekly Weigh-ins, as well as Fitness and Karate classes to assist individuals in achieving their personal Weight Loss/Fitness/Wellness goals. I literally jumped for joy! I sat on my bed after, head leaned back in disbelief, eyes wide open, and let out a long tremoring sigh… “Thank yooooou.”
The thirty days leading up to the first session of the 12-Week Program were excruciating. My mind bounced from happiness/hope/elation to fear/doubt/despair. The idea of transformation and change was definitely intoxicating, but to try meant there was a chance I would fail. I was terrified. I understood too well what kind of damage failing this would do to me. I told myself I was okay with it. I had to be. After so many years of trying to keep strong and hopeful, with each failed attempt resulting in even more weight gain, only one comforting thought prevailed …. Perhaps after trying this one last time and failing, I finally could be free…. Free from all the guilt, self-ridicule, worthlessness, unrealistic aspirations, pressure. By giving it my all, one last attempt, I knew I could then be kind, offer myself a well-deserved pardon and relinquish this life-long battle. I would breathe easy finally, humbly accept defeat, embrace the overweight/unhealthy body I was in, and then allow myself to live in peace. No longer an adversary, I would stick out my hand in friendship to food. I would eat and eat and eat happily and freely, and resign to die a slow, untroubled death.
“One year, I told myself. “That’s it. One year, and one final chance to get my act together, to face all my fears, to do everything humanly possible, to prove to myself, once and for all, that I have what it takes (to at least try)…. And, if I don’t succeed, which most likely I will not, I don’t have to worry about this EVER again!” 😊 😊 😊
The Soul-Searching
Even after confirmation that I would attend the information session, right up to stepping through the doors, I fought every impulse to bail. The one thought that propelled me forward through the dojo door was that she was, not some foreign person I had heard about or my weekly fix on The Biggest Loser, but a real person, someone I actually knew, who had lost 50 pounds in one year! In fact, as much as I appreciated her business savvy, her expertise in karate, and her words of encouragement at each Saturday weigh-in, there was only one thing that mattered to me at the time. She had done the impossible. And, her success ignited my hope. For this, I will be eternally grateful to Julie Creighton, a lead-by example-role-model and my senpai.
I remember clearly that fateful night prior to starting the program, looking into the mirror (a rare occurrence), examining my lonely, pitiful face through the marring tread marks of tears. I spoke out loud in desperation, praying to a god whose existence eluded me and whose interest in me at the very least was doubtful. I crept into the bed my mother once slept, knowing that she was the one person who would have listened and try to understand. Emotions overcame me. I wailed out of fear, for the strength I knew would be required, for the freedoms that I would have to give up, for the chocolate I could never eat. I cried myself to sleep, feeling every ounce of my weight on my shoulders, because I knew it was all up to me, and I was on my own.
The Denouement
Before I could make any kind of commitment, I needed to know that my suffering would end. This is why I gave myself a year. The emotional and mental torment that I had struggled with for most of my life, was more agonizing than the idea of physical body pains, a heart attack, or even the breakdown of my body. These things I felt I could deal with. It turned out that the notion of “giving myself a year,” of setting a finite amount of time, in of itself was liberating. It allowed me to compartmentalize my life and, after inevitable failure, proceed weightlessly to my predestined path. I would live a long enough life for my children (I truly believed that I would be granted this, because Life seemed to get sick pleasure from ugly ironies), and continue to be a selfless mom, devoting my entire existence to them.
But, along the way, something unexpected happened. I was rewarded. With each and every karate class, plank/pushup, or morning walk, the inches came off. I began to see that there was a person underneath all those fatty layers, one who was independent of her many roles and responsibilities, capable, and worthy of a life of her own. Constantly learning and experimenting, my mindset started to change and I began to live … on my own terms. I believed finally that I could take charge of every aspect of my life. I started to know (and even like) myself, harnessed my strength and got a hint of my true power. I still don’t know who it was that was listening — God, the Universe or just me? But, somehow, that year flew by, and at 7 months I had lost a miraculous 45 lbs! I was amazed and truly proud of myself. I surpassed my wildest dreams, by setting and achieving one manageable goal after another.
I don’t claim to be anyone special. I am just a regular person who took a (long overdue) risk, made a commitment, and gave it her all. And, I got the results I desired. Unfortunately, after two years of joy and selfness, Life wrenched me back, savaged by unfinished business. I lost my footing, topping the scale at 187 lbs. But, I cannot regret. The sweetness of success lingers lovingly. Its captivating tendrils, vivid and real. It remembers me and I have hope.
On February 4, 2018, I will continue on my journey. I am not fearful, for I am armed with truth and experience, trust and compassion…. and reflection to support. This last and final round awaits. I am poised and ready.
Are you with me?
**Note: “The Unburdening” section was taken from a journal written August 6, 2015.
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Lucy
I’m going to your YouTube channel now https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC0Qh71ErsTUxXwg4h4jH–w
SeeingRred
Whilst drinking a glass of H20, I presume? 🙂 🙂