I’ve been on my fitness journey for the better part of 8 years. That;s almost a decade of fad diets, scheduled supplements, meticulously planned meals containing perfectly calculated portions of carbs and proteins – all of which I swore by until I fell off the wagon. Some falls were harder than others. My gym attendance would go from almost every day for hours on end, to once a week barely getting through 45 minutes.
Regardless of the situation at the time, the reason I kept falling off my routine and losing focus was because my motivation was misguided and my inspiration was coming from somewhere other than myself. Thats right – you have to be your own inspiration. You have to want and need it for your self. That will be your greatest motivator – not some fitness pro who’s parading around on stage with a spray tan. I mean, yeah it would be great to look like that but everyone is different and when you are motivated to achieve a look you weren’t genetically predispositioned for it’s like setting your self up for failure. This is what caused me to fail because I was so focused on someone else’s results instead of focusing on the process and inner strength.
For me, it is so important to understand and appreciate what your body is going through. When you start to gain pride and confidence in your self is when you find the best motivation you could ever hope for. I’ve had more than my share in the health crisis department, a slew of unhealthy relationships and body image / depression like you read about. After my hysterectomy and an epically shitty year I finally had enough.
I’m now finally addressing my depression and making it my personal mission to make myself mentally and physically strong. My weight has always fluctuated with the majority of it settling on the bottom . Where this was previously something I would be self conscious about I am now treating it an an asset. My thicker legs and bubble butt fits nicely into weight lifting. High impact cardio aggravates my asthma . As an EMT I had always been told that you lift with your legs, so having thicker legs meant being a stronger chick in a male dominated field.
I find that we are our own worst critics, hyper focusing on things others probably wouldn’t notice. When you obsess over the details you miss the big picture. I’ve got a collection of wide red hypertrophic scars that require injections during flare ups and silver stretch marks on my thighs, hips and butt. Those are my battle scars and I wouldn’t have it any other way .
I’m working out to be strong, confident and more importantly – happy. I don’t care about numbers or calories , to me they are distractions – back ground noise. Although I’ve been a gym go-er for almost a decade I feel like I’m starting over . I feel like I’m finally getting my mind right and the results are just a bonus. Sure I’ve got a few future endeavors in mind, but for now I’m good with being happy and to me that’s a great place to start.